Where was it that I read
someone was driving, then took a hard turn, that their friend fell out of the
car, ran, and got back in? To say that this happened to Flannery O’Connor is
ridiculous, but it might be true.
After I cut someone off
at the airport--a minor foolishness that reminded me of my unquantifiable
selfishness--I dreamt that I was being sued and pursued for arrest by someone
in Alabama, a state where I do not believe I have ever been. I woke up twice
and returned to the dream each time.
I had also just read the
late poet C. D. Wrights book, One Big Self, a response to her visit to
Louisiana prisons. Aside from an illuminating critique of incarceration in America, It featured the amazing line, “There is no point and we will
not shrink from it,” which works for everything.
When I use the bathroom
at night, or let’s just say when I used it last night, awakening from a dream
in which I was being pursued for a crime I did not commit in order to atone for
the bounty of petty and stupid things I have done, the light bulbs were
extraterrestrially bright, heavenly bright. I cannot emotionally handle walking
from a dream into a bright bathroom without swerving into a very, very
religious mood. I need my Snoopy nightlight in there. That I have not seen this nightlight in 18 years makes no difference.
I am almost convinced
that 500 or more useful words can be put to exploring a Joey Ramone quote. In a CD booklet the tallest Ramone is recording as having said that he could listen to Johnny's guitar and hear instruments like
organ and piano that weren't really there. That occurrence may be called an overtone,
or it might just be a nameless phenomenon unique to the ears of those who
trade heavily in powerchord and leather.
I aspire to the
confluence of God and Nightmares and singers from Queens. But my program is to
simplify, and I still haven’t done this.
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