i said goodbye to her and cried. The tears felt like stones and rocks, like iron chains unforgiving and bitter hanging around my neck. i couldn’t leave her even if i wanted to but I walked away. Never looked back. Never spoke about it again. Never saw her except when i got drunk. Thinking about her made me sick. In a dream i saw her crossing a street in San Francisco walking into the wind. The fog was thick. The wind tossed her hair in different directions like a field of wheat. The slender fingers of her hands gripped life in a suitcase. She got on a bus. i ran to catch it. She looked up and saw me standing next to the liquor store. She opened her mouth to speak. She pushed the door of the bus to open it. It slammed in her face and closed. The bus disappeared around the corner. i stood there in the fog.
she hates shadows and fog, hates being alone listening to voices. hates everything and believes nothing. hates growing up. hates it when nobody talks to her. hates thinking she’s ugly. hates the dry heaves making her blind. hates rich thick almost black ultra dark deep purple blood. hates slamming it. she hates missing. she hates expensive habits. hates that it cost her everything and everyone she loved. she hates using. hates losing. she hates flirting. she hates kissing. hates being naked. hates her sexy tan. hates the smell of flesh. hates perfume. hates her arms covered with long sleeve shirts. hates walking around not knowing if jazz was sick or if he was just refusing to hate himself. hates average people. hates ordinary sacrifices. hates crawling in disgrace. hates the collection plate. hates attending an ordinary church. she hates the bible. hates him, too. hated it that she lived with one abuser after another. hates her brother for dying. hates ultra rosé. she hates rock for being an idiot. hates being concerned about anything! hates it that having all the money still wasn’t enough. she hates thinking she could get away with cheating. hates drug deals that go bad. hated practical jokes. hated the magicians who thought they had the answers. she hated zenn and the magic circle. hated other females and all men. hated spiders under her bed. hated answering every question with yin and yang. she hated children who let snakes eat them. she hated the virtual kundalini. hated innocent lives cut short. hated poisonous venom. hated funerals. she hated weddings. hated having no one to talk to. hated having nothing to do. she hated it that no one listened when she talked. she hated adagio for building an ark of ideas. hated him for killing the garden. hated him for destroying his mind. hated him for not being able to laugh: alcoholics are angry sad people who get drunk more often than other people. they laugh like drummers who have no groove. we make connections with other human beings who are the most powerful force of all. methedrine was hidden in a condom. the police can arrest us if they want. what do we care? adagio composed an eclectic performance of silence and it exploded inside the ark and blew a hole in our soul. dance condemns everything we couldn’t get out of eden. it was dead anyway frozen by words on paper. belief defended the barking dog the way of the dog went barking to a baritone sax. but the tao was how things would go when we first realized we were gods.
