Rodney Nelson - 2 Stories
Aerohead
I came from the plains I come from and entered Montana at night turning
south at Wibaux and had I kept on in that direction would have reached
Ekalaka where I knew a girl who not expecting me would have welcomed
me with open limbs, not that Ekalaka had been my objective, no it would
have been a stop en route to California and an editing job that the
university press had hinted I could have back though I had been gone
working and trying to work in my misery homeland, a vet of San Francisco
hippiedom I had moved into editing done ten years at the university
ten on the plains and now with all I owned aboard was driving toward
a vagary but when I hit an intersection north of town I stopped, knew
I would not be seeing her and Ekalaka and turned west in which direction
I felt good to be heading then, at Billings however I met cold rain
and wanting to avoid more of it on an early-autumn mountain traverse
went south leaving Montana in the dark for Cheyenne Denver Albuquerque,
a desert route would get me around the wet chill and on to the beaches
the redwoods of California I had been daydreaming of though having
given and gotten no promises anent work I was not in a hurry and might
have been traveling to or from Buenos Aires London Rabat Chicago where
as in California and at home nothing of literary interest was happening,
I am not a writer but enjoy the written word and have a knack for languages,
daydream too of being in on a renaissance at some land's end, with
nothing happening anywhere I did not have to rush and had the money
for a month of beer gas et cetera if I camped in the sedan not rented
rooms, I had been through a good drought summer at home, the region
of chronic drought I was coming into seemed right, high burnt-chestnut
terrain, captioning it on an Arizona billboard the faded message petrified
wood moccasin clocks, big treed mountain at the city where wanting
a shower and rest I checked into a motel and sang in Spanish in la
ducha and going to eat realized Flagstaff had altitude and the beauty
of impinging wilderness, not its own beauty, it was another Gallup New Mexico which I had seen that day, a charra strip, no the beauty of the wooded mountains it in turn impinged on and that meant something, that I would read the news over my Navajo taco, spot the want ad and hang on not live in Flagstaff, I do not live I stay at or visit, in the Chinese Navajo cafe I did not know the mountains meant I might even get out of nonliving, proofreader, the university in town, half time at low pay, the job for me it seemed and in cool dry thin air that carried the scents of smoke and pine I went the next morning to rent a room in a dingier motel longterm and a pee-oh box and to the university to ink in a form and leave it with a note saying I did not yet have a number, would call in one week at the end of which a honey-coated voice told me I would have to take an editing test, editing or proofreading I said, oh a little of each the woman thought but did not sound confident, I took and aced the thing, anon got interviewed in the dim cloistral office of yew publications and I had the job, American universities are musea and I have tried to avoid them, the press I had worked at had next to nothing to do with the school, here I was right in the academic subculture, my window overlooking graveyard lawns, American institutions academic medical and what not come from or through the early ar-cee church, microcosms of the order of gawd every one acting that way not knowing enough to admit to it hence the twaddling of mission the awe of authority and the self-effacement and other bureaucratic habitudes, I have tried to avoid them, here the director who asked me what is it that you do had gone to ar-cee school and so had her honey-coated assistant and the chief editman neither of whom seemed to fathom my job, claiming unbelief none had lost reverence the aura of which I could not avoid, in California and at home I had done scholarly and literary editing, here I red-marked business cards and invitations and memoranda and concert programs and lunch menus and catalogues and traffic tickets when I was not on the mag and news articles with which the trouble would start, I rented an even cheaper dingier room not in a motel and began hiking, every weekend going to Mount Elden or Dry Lake Hills or the San Francisco Peaks on a mission of my own to take in beauty, I knew how to walk, hiking is walking, got used to the altitude and would be on the move all day sweating up inclines to gawk at the huge flat wooded and unwooded surround needing this not to think of work, sun and autumn never quit, I met a tall redhead, a jenny Mormon she told me laughing, who took me to a coffeehouse to hear Tibetan chant and one nice dark man gave an introductory talk on tantrism, pain and desire are tense and mahamudra yoga teaches relaxation effortlessness keep relaxed free of clinging the way to liberation to innate Buddha, next the droning and I ran a hand up her leg and that tense night we screwed with effort, so it would be, at work the assistant came to me neat as a nun and honied, forestry doesn't want to have a hyphen in forest land management I think they have a point she said, I explained that dictionaries did not list forestland which meant it was an open compound and had to have a hyphen when used to modify so I had inserted one in editing the School of Forestry article, it's a tradition with them we should cooperate as much as, she eyed me a postcatholic warning and left, in my kidhood an aunt had cautioned me not to trust anyone with eyes too close together, well this woman had to be cyclopean, in the country of the one-eyed you're in trouble I thought, I walked and drove in Flagstaff during the workweek to take in not beauty the socalled human reality I could not have avoided anyway, off the strip the town had many rough-rock-sided buildings and quaint worn charm, a rampant exurbia though, everyone having left the ruins of Richmond Toledo et cetera to make another new start or last stand in Arizona country not knowing pretending not to know that a democracy built on the greed creed and nothing else would turn out pollution mayhem anomie every time, how long would this pathetic idiot evasion work, how long would I be editing written language that had gone the way of civilization, a profesora objected to my sticking commas in multidigit figures she had used, in Holland they get spaces never a comma she added, I told her that in the yew-ess we went by the Chicago manual and she could read what it had to say, she did and seemed content but next morning the cyclops was in my door, Ann Hamm thought you were too rigid even arrogant we're a service organization have to develop flexibility, I thought I had seen primitive at home, primitive views of editing and of the word, this was eolithic, you are right if you think so if you have a pee-aitch-dee, I would have to dumb down or quit and not yet ready with Flagstaff I went on trying to stay what once had been the written language getting to know the region too, hiked and camped through it, during the lukewarm winter I snowshoed in mountain parks or drove to the Navajo res and to the Hopi which were cold not wet and I wanted to tune into Hopi and Navajo adding noneuropean word music to the repertoire and would have done so had spring not diverted me, I continued seeing the redhead who shared a problem with the res but would not for all my urging accept a tube of lube, the heritage of Deseret lived on in this jenny, Tibetan teaching would not sink in, I had a hurt cock and the trails invited me to other spring action that also dulled the thought of work and I became gonzo, an aerohead doing twenty miles of mountain in one day a mode of nature worship I had not known, Flagstaff allowed it, I was not ready to quit which meant dumbing down on the job and I did have chances, in April the one-eyed woman summoned me to meet in the director's office, we have to discuss editing she said, editing or proofreading, oh we ah, the director reminded me of an elf in the pen illustrations to Grimm, I could even see the hatch lines on her acromegalic nose, and all she did at work was meditate to recorded music, attend meetings when she had to and write a monthly memo that had to do with yew publications of which she knew nothing, her man-wary elf nod meant I should sit and listen, we've had a call the department of nursing they are angry you edited the program brochure marked an en dash in times of day in between I mean where they had a hyphen I didn't know what I talked to my assistant but we can't have this you know the customer's always right, elf nodded now to cyclops who said I think we should let it go no big deal does the en really matter I was taught hyphen but important thing service to client, director had had no training or experience in publishing and cyclops and editman were academic journalists who had not heard of the en dash feared the semicolon had been in shul since age five and would I say the en dash not the hyphen was used with inclusive times and dates, no I would give a dumb non sequitur, fine but am I editing or am I proofreading, elf had to nod again to cyclops, why don't you write us a memo tell us what it is you think you do she said, she and I even the director knew I was copyediting for them at a proofreader's wage, edit is to work on style grammar and what not and proofread to check the typeset, I edit, a trained secretary can do the visual job of proofreading, and they were inventing magnifying the complaints of the yew burocracia to stymie my own not that I had voiced any, no I had put them a question and now could dilate on it in a nonrude memo avoiding trouble and I would, that weekend I hit the trails with wrath and must have done thirty each of the days in June heat trekking overland not taking in much but dulling the thought of work, went to see the redhead and when time came I squeezed lube onto my cock hoping she would not notice, she did during and said all right then I don't have it all, I had wounded her and got sent home she adding you don't talk to me or understand, true but had she not had that ligation I would have worn something lubed and the matter would not have arisen, I enjoyed the woman though, was ready to pay in an effort at talk understanding and dry sex, so it would be, mountains required no such effort and the yew only the memo I wrote and handed in drawing a nonresponse I thought had to do with the onset of paperwork in autumn, some academic who had been wasting government money interviewing Mayans had published a book and done an unsigned review and sent it in to the yew news rag the which I copyedited, quoted himself, Mateo was happy to share the rincón with an extranjero, macaronic would not do in suppository prose, I could not touch a quotation but into the text of the review Doctor Rau had worked the word ladino which had many meanings and not defined it, I understood but what of others and we were at an institution of learning so I called him, it's a mestizo I don't have to do that he screamed, I said it's also a Judeo-Spaniard and a cowboy term, Doctor Rau hung up on me and I inserted the definition and stayed on not lived in Flagstaff through a second October, again the bright blue weather kept me to trail and invagination to redhead though I hurt, told the press in California what I was doing and where and that I had no notion to leave, when the mellilfluent cyclops bade me into her office I did not expect the written warning I got, Doctor Rau Doctor Hamm all the staff named in memo have spoken to us of arrogant nitpicking behavior you know Rau a regents' prof we cannot have our image in jeopardy that of the mountain campus should you not our directives according to university we may terminate, she said and I read but knowing a state workman had certain rights I demanded to see what she no doubt had written following my arrogant nitpicking behaviors, oh they all talked to, you are not telling the truth or they're not wouldn't you have written me up grave charges you try to terminate I'll insist on a hearing, cyclops would report to elf now and I to beauty not treating it as such when I took on the mountains that weekend, I had a gonzo aerohead time and saw too little did enough yet could not rid my memory of one honied phrase the mountain campus, so the yew had nicknamed itself, to the burocracia mountain and campus were one and in serving its microcosm of the order of gawd it would not even think of not equating big mountain little minds, a lie was neutral, another honey-coated bead in the bead game, those in authority in the microcosm were agents of heaven so a threat to them was an attack on the order and had to be fought with lies pro re nata, my hotshot editing threatened the cyclops and any malice and mendacity she directed at me were gawd's own, the elf would come to believe the lying as the liar had had to and I knew no matter what I did I would get terminated excommunicated at the end of the period their memo of warning allowed, I sat on a rock summit and tried to breathe the mountain campus away, montanus, campus, the yew could not function without the lies that Latin did not permit, American English was going down academia haling it I worked at the yew, I stayed on through fall pending my fall, watched the city don colored light to mark gawd's birth as many who having left the ruins of Detroit Milwaukee et cetera to winter in the Arizona desert came now to Flagstaff seeking exmas, they could cut a tree roll in the snow then drive back to warmth, many who did not return to the Midwest in April owned homes in this high forest land to which they retreated when Phoenix got too hot or winter nostalgia whelmed them, escape from escape, midvacation vacationing, how long would this civilization continue, the Hopi gave it till anno two thousand eleven the end of a world and I hoped of exurbia and academia, the redhead for whom the end had not begun dragged me to festivities in a gentile church, among the caroling mouths were some from the university, even the schoolers need this I thought and ran out gagging, they needed this idiot joy, the redhead who did not run along with me must have too and my time with that woman was over, I would put all tension and attention on the young secretary at work, she seemed to want me or my job, I did not know which, at the primitive yew editing was clerical so she would have been in line and maybe wanted to have oh-jay-tee ere I got axed, I did know she had a mouth to daydream of and where our training would begin not that I had won an ally, one morning she handed me a memo with the sub rosa comment I found this in the printer don't tell, the printer was shared, memo found in printer meant memo someone had written printed and
forgotten or chosen not to send or intended someone else to come upon
which meant memo would get out as rumor the very life of the yew and
no one have to take responsibility, director to assistant director
your memo in re unprofessional conduct certain staff I am total accord
have had many complaints arrogant nitpicking contentiousness proofreader
the anger real and widespread inhibit provision of service I have consulted
administration recommending tight reign all staff in particular certain
or worst-case with effect thank you, the secretary whom I in turn thanked
said she's a dork and I explained that the director was only reacting
to my unprofessional or unnunlike nature which threatened the yew's
professional or nunlike mode of conduct, there's nothing to what she
wrote I haven't heard one real complaint, not important I said winking
but sick of irony I would not go into this with the secretary or anyone
again, I asked a few in the burocracia who had seen my editing and
liked it to do letters of commendation and these I turned in to the
cyclops, winter-jaunted in warm Oak Creek Canyon and Verde Valley,
drove back to lukewarmth in the evening, for how long I thought, I
had committed a mortal sin and soon would have to know the wages of
it but at work no one mentioned complaints, no memos of wrath were
sent or found and I wondered had they given up and could I then give
up the dream of beach and redwood, I was set to track more in Arizona,
get in its low country, all of the beyonds, to continue in what the
yew viewed as a woman's job so that I could, no I would not live here,
I do not live, I would hang on till the next dream or vagary hit, in
March they summoned me at last and seemed too too calm, had they been
meditating on a mandala of the microcosm to Tibetan chant, the cyclops'
tone was diluted honey now, direction of our mission changing with
institutional needs have to inform you proofreading position eliminated
one-month notice you should to department of personnel job data they
can, the elf said do you have a response, naw, I signed their memo
and knew I would not be taking communion anymore, on a spring day following
the end of that one month I went to Schultz Creek to do the trail running
beside and in it to Schultz Pass a way to the high mountain, not too
much meltwater met me, the earth showed a hint of new green and with
the new sun on my neck I wanted to move, had no more job to dull the
thought of but moved even quicker thinking only of work now, I had
not expected a museum of learning to have or make room for a hotshot
copy editor, I knew it had had to reject me still I hated the yew and
would have enjoyed bombing it into the next world, it not I had chosen
the rejection time which meant I was out of job and income when I had
planned to stay in northern Arizona, aerohead rhythm taking over I
beat and sloshed on, jam a red pen in the eye of the cyclops bugger
the elf, the thought of it fueled my ascent, had I not been in motion
I would have gagged, reaching the pass at blue noon I could not shake
the rhythm and had to march around Schultz Tank slowing each lap until
I did, the mountain hung white to the north but I was nuking the yew
the molehill campus then I heard a voice, what if nothing were wrong
and you could relax, seemed to be my own voice with a marked Tibetan
twang, what if nothing were wrong and you could relax which implied
that I was not relaxed one could not relax when something was wrong
and something in fact was yet I had health and some money and mind
had lost a few jobs and rotten teeth in my day and knew that loss of
the bad was never wrong so nothing was and I too had been making a
mountain of a molehill and could relax in Buenos Aires London Rabat
Chicago Flagstaff and hang on here even live
Lysis in Light
You had returned to do literary farmwork as you put it, I had intended
to write in and of North Dakota edit publish there all which I did,
regional, yes and it meant going back to the rootends of history family
and nature, north European in northern America, I was bent to make
art of that giving scant thought to nation or world, a mission, right,
did you, words got written printed were read I edited magazines went
into literary journalism I translated German Danonorwegian unknown
matter weighed in on issues abandoned poetry, you quit writing, just
poetry the other went on though I tired of being a writer I had not
done this, you mean, the public role of writer book signing the hick
talk-show interviews all to carry out a mission, you were engagé,
one onetime trial I liked to think only in North Dakota but I was taking
more part in world and nation than I knew tuned in to whiskey football
militant neochristendom, you, I drank I watched tee-vee, were becoming
an average, an ordinary citizen down to redneck political habitude
I hate to admit not that I served party or candidate, what were you
writing, journalism freelance I had remarried wanted to parlay it into
a living, nonliterary farmwork were you tired of literature, no but
it had run inert in me, did you get the work, too little the mission
ended on its own everyone had left, who would that, some other people
of the word returned in seventy-eight when I had they recreated North
Dakota made it large were gone by eighty-four I sat alone in native
dimwit environment, wanting a new start, why not the charm of being
an unextolled wordman is that no agent or public tells one not to hange
what not to do next one may start over, how many beginnings is one
allowed, I do not know, you had made a new start in North Dakota were
you ready to bolt that, I, everything you had put into it, ah, the
land had not changed had it the quiet havening prairie you had written
of even hymned, I had come to hate the tamed inert domestic look of
North Dakota that I too was taking on I needed reignition, which meant,
I had to have the spark of a Jeffers a Kazantzakis in my writing, but
you did not move to Crete or Big Sur, I would not have thought to follow
or emulate to live in worn-out places I wanted nonhuman nature around
me the work of Wilhelm Lehmann inspired the notion, who had dwelt on
the shore of weary old Europe, in a critic’s
retreat while I had a huge elsewhere to turn to, you were young in
northern California returned a missionary to your home state then got
quenched in the tame environment you needed a new spark, fire, and
nonhuman company you would have had more of that in Alaska why go to
Flagstaff Arizona, well I had been there nineteen sixty-eight the light had caught my mind
the way it let a two-track nutmeg road cut through the loner ponderosa
woods toward hot red draw or naked volcano, an eagle wait in the middle
of town on top of snag unthreatened, and the summer blue an afternoon
that I just had to walk, I had not stayed had made me a compact to
return the which I did in eighty-five a trip to canyon with others
that took in Flag en route and I was caught again, let’s move here I wrote young mate at home who now a nurse had heart for new beginning, we did it that late summer yet I kept ties to North Dakota one of them romantic she did not know of that stilled the marriage made me a moping autumn guest in the high rock meadow country I explored and in the house my one friend a tree on which or whom I leant to look at sky that bright green needles framed and mourn the marriage miss another woman other tree I had known up north, I had grieved in Arizona the first time too might have reckoned one had to do such to meet the price of a beauty that now as earlier invited my homage did not distract from hurt, loomed only beyond, not as earlier I gave its sun the while it wanted to light in me a unromantic passion make me Cawdor the Greek, I learned the town on foot that lay in mountain and woods had nothing to drive no need of means to get away I was already there, trekked north out of Buffalo Park my woe tree’s home along some caverned magma the unmarked route through unnamed summit tween two rocks on to nutmeg Elden road that switchbacked up to ridge toward mountain windy loft at ninety-three hundred in view the plateau’s half round, I would know in time the name of every told rise or fall on it ashen cone to yellow arroyo early knew main peak main canyon the one keeping other unseen, went down a skittery trail to eastern Flag and rode the bus to home of my woe, many day I would do that loop in sun- or snow-light I watched them build a trail on my unmarked part would walk or wait at ease in reek of tree sap wild dung head otherwhere too Mars Hill the Freidlein road, I camped alone at Dry Lake in March three landowning deer awatch on timid Dakotan who had only come to know what public property meant, I reclimbed the high one in June as I had vowed my first time up took in nutcrackers’ sound again full round of plateau the canyon a grey void its north rim dim beyond, faint Navajo Mountain that led eye out to jig on noon’s
Painted Desert
did all this reignite your writing, not yet, were you blocked, no,
cat get your pen, I managed to work at a novel I had started in North
Dakota but I was half-hearted I did not like it, the Arizona light
had not turned you into Zorba the grandee, too much weighed my mind
a silent marriage that drove me into, had you and your wife quit talking,
we had tried to talk never wanted to at the same time each driven into
an own silence that with me turned meditative, which helped, me not
the marriage I think I had put her in with the inert of North Dakota
the ended mission she was young too inexperienced did not know what
to do I cannot blame, so you meditated, I read Wilhelm Lehmann that
first winter he had written a country journal training a good eye and
mind not to mention style on nature in the protonazi era nought of
which he mentioned he knew the way what it excluded he brought me to
a calm an enlightenment, nonromantic passion, romantic nonpassion maybe,
while you walked the territory toyed with a novel manqué who
met the rent, she had a nursing job, you might have written edited
published become known in your new region even made some kind of living
or did you not want to work, oh I had had it with local celebrity I
was lying low the words of Lehmann were enough right then I did seek
unimportant work but mainly waited, for, the marriage to mend or die
my thinking on the trail to arrive at some plan, you were in mystical
retreat, wenn Skepsis und Sehnsucht sich begatten dann entsteht Mystik
to quote Nietzsche I had both the skepticism of one who had run aground
in public private and the yearning for light, another German, I am
no Germanist but I could read the literature the conservative strand
in its romantic tradition that rejected the human today for unchanging
changing nature appealed to me I had even translated him a little,
Lehmann, right I had gotten others to help, his work was conservative
in method, he kept to the German lyric of tradition I farmed the traditional
in North Dakota he pointed the way he had done at an earlier time did
now, an earlier, California I was young in love I chanced on him there
his objective Naturmagie had much to do with what I felt as much as
it would with what I thought during the regional mission with what
came to me walking in Arizona he has been a vademecum, the mission
had meant humanity while here the nonhuman caught you, I weighed the
notion of a magazine to spread word of Lehmann but shrank from acting
in public I had had it, you did not act in private either the half-hearted
writing were you blocked indeed, no out on strike, against, the personage
I had created the world in which it had been, how long did your strike
go on the dead-ending marriage, I left, you, I went back to North Dakota,
why you had just, well I rejected what the man of action had done there but the simple man
in me was lonely in the fine woods had not gotten over North Dakota
so returned unwilling to wait out the marriage in want of company a
certain woman, had to drink with a friend or two, jolly some guy in
the trade who meant to do a book of mine, all which happened on a one-month
jaunt in eighty-six, I wintered again with wife wrote an end to novel
damné moved out the next March entraining for el-ay Oregon a
wide rain swing that led to North Dakota the downtown apartment wherein
I set to rewin what I had acted to forfeit a slot in tamed environment
woman’s heart, took on an editing job portended well even thought
to draw my mate to join me whom I missed the one in North Dakota not
coming to much, flew down to Arizona midwinter reunion with light not
only her I had missed that too and on our drives around plateau I lent
an eye to the high snowy one wanting to climb it scent it had a hunch
of more to be lived if I came back let marriage that had started to
revive go on, of her inviting, but the job I had to have remained in
Fargo as did vantage-windowed apartment looking north on hospital and
train station which grey view rang of who had left, she could be one
to arrive I thought, so plane-rode home or sort of home would read
the word depression in letters try to help then I got fired without
warning had to summer in the country on dead uncle’s land the
letters becoming few my renewed hatred of North Dakota uphoven, would
she welcome me again I did not know but Arizona might, no matter what
I went in autumn eight-eight to a light that would not have one ill
or sad a woman of no shown emotion who motioned to reconciliate bought
me a desk would hike with me none too willing, talk only night-shift
mad at dawn spawling the truth, our marriage sickened to an end we
could not delay and I began to be in Arizona had dreamed not lived
in it until that spring when I met a woman I had known, the trees’sudden
flower a dandle of new prospect, got out of retreat to join the hiking
club made ready to take to the mountain in full and was that July,
I went on my own you quit the marriage, nothing to quit, and the girl in North Dakota
did you dump her, more or less, to fall in love with someone you had
known, no I almost did there was another more than one in the club
I was emergent, you seem to have gone from woman to woman to woman
yet make out you were in quest of fire a nonhuman environment what
led you that or love, I have thought of this I do not know, you, my
Old Adam had not run loose that much it might have been, an Adam truly
aging now, turned forty-eight the autumn of eighty-nine, you went on
your own were you ready to write as well, no, to work, I got a driving
job with a hemodialysis company that took me on the Navajo reservation
in predawn a thirteen-hour day three times a week and I enjoyed it
would awe at phantom huge rebirth of high one out of early mist that
grew before me when I headed into town with stoic Indian load I liked
them too reminded me of norsk Dakota folk I had a chance to look in
their homes meet hogan Indian way I do not regret the job it linched
my new time in Flagstaff, you rented an apartment no doubt, a room
with bath I did not want to cook or pother, the club you joined, yes
the hiking club I had not joined much of anything to date my first
time with them not good a hell-hot trek into cacti cat’s claw
Sycamore Canyon we all ran out of water the guide had written eight
miles it amounted to twice that but I did another they were a nice
intelligent group that shared one love of mine they knew would teach
me the rim the canyon Verde Valley take me where on the mountain I
had not seen, it helped you over the marriage, I got on my feet as
I went on my feet into a brazen eden that volleyed did not keep the
light where one might turn look up or down at a passed white ridge
and see the joying self that one had been or at the glim of a needle
rock to come that one would be I think I even met that self a time
or two, which the self you had been that you were or would be, the
new emergent self of the trail not three but the same, a child of joy
had you caught the spark, in a way I had not forethought I had come
to the light to age and here I was turning young, had you dreamed of
rejuvenation, no nor is that the word, but to turn young, I seemed
to become what I had never known get young at last, to juvenate then,
whatever it might mean, yet you brought a past into youth to a town
of median age twenty-five you meant to write again did the juvenation
work, I was not ready I had more with the club with women or alone
to do had to learn the art of being single a part of me had to die,
which, oh the North Dakota where I had known to expect to get nothing
back my marriage sullen heavy North Dakotan, and had to die that another
could juvenate, not that being young was it I only wanted out or up,
into the light, out of darken heavy into light or light a word of more
than one meaning the two words leicht und Licht not quite one in German
come almost together in verb zu lichten unlade, your thought at the
time, no I had found the leicht und schwer dichotomy in Lehmann not
been aware of it a critic lent me the afterthought, the heavy Dakota
schwer part had to die, go into eclipse, while you took wing with women
you met in the club, well I had met Cee already a tall thin riant redhead who knew a young inlaw
of mine that we were in town when she moved there and called, whom
I brought along on the first club hike the hot trek into Sycamore,
Cee and I got on well but my heart went then to Em a broody swart New
Mexicana who let me walk alone with her, with Cee the club I had jokesome
camaraderie footing the median age around my own to grin in hot sun
thin chill air of Lockett Meadow or on Abineau Canyon hard ascent to
whitened krummholz or in Garland Prairie lava dust seemed very right,
the warm yet nondomestic meet for beer at the end did too, married
unmarried came solo to hike, drink, not pair off my try to do which
with Em got rejected on almost the hurt morning I moved out my wife
not seen or heard in shut room an added pain yet end nor beginning
was new to me I knew such naked teeter time that I should learn the
art of singlehood unentwined not let me get too near to full-lipped
-titted temptacious Cee who light-headed kept it light gave nuance
to the word making man want her the more, who had a young boyfriend
of old in Maryland anyway, I held to my own with her the club on Kendrik
Peak Bill Williams Mountain the knee-ache road to Doyle Saddle where
at summer height rain blurred the light into mountain cavity, met women
throughout, Mia the warm quick therapist, perfect Meen the Bangladeshi
an architect, men as well I won their respect got thewn and trim the
other vocation on Navajo l and brought more than money enough yet when
Cee mentioned the single life what did I think of it I had to say it’s
a worm’s,
hard to credit remark I might have made at giddy Philomena Spring toward
top of the high one my eye areaching Mount Trumbull the yellow north
over canyon or lovely Meen, I had weakened no doubt yet marched on
blithe to autumn the lower acacia tanque land the club went into during
it, on West Clear Creek I darted over ridges in the behold of Cee with
whom I left the cantina that night, would she walk me home, I have
something for you Rod turned out to be a fart, I would walk her, when
I moved to leave the hugging kissing her lank legs twined me from behind
I had no urge to go would writhe in her moany clutch some two-three
times a week toward exmas, a fart her nether voice would call to me,
Cee did not laugh in the throe but kept it light until we tolled and
meant the heavy romantic word, too soon her boy of old would come on
holiday visit I heard too late to which she had agreed in our joky
prelapsarian time, would room with her a midthirties woman who intended
me now to think or do I knew not what, I had known not to get into
this, been japed, went on alone with Navajo land the club then back
to love hut let her slorp my cock all January the next month fucking
a many more times a week, we even mock-plotted marriage respecting
nor it nor each other yet were in love to her limit who broke us off
that March, the friend had announced return I would come to know, her
pretext a vow to quit sex altogether did not outweigh what I had vowed
at exmas, do it one more time I am gone, but I made no threat I wanted
to keep it light with a vengeance in the manner of hebephrenic Cee
who lived a day ago tomorrow, end it light, I said okay that I would
be in town, meant to try on camaraderie again which might have done
had I loved and hated my madwoman not so much and I felt me hiking
too bitter sick to accord the light its due, when Kay arrived another madwoman, no but young twenty-one, even so another, Kay got
there in time to take my attention away from Cee, why did you keep
at the women when you needed to write, I, more Old Adam, my impulse
went I think toward marriage I had never gotten writing done without
the help of a mate to steady my life add to the income must have believed
I had to have that, which you would not have found in Cee, or sought,
too light-headed, a madcap seductive knave would not have done, poet
had turned to strayaway with her then Kay arrived to crown your juvenation
did she, in an odd way I could not have imagined, how, we met at the
annual santa-day party of the hiking club I had an ordinary attraction
to young blonde tall thin as Cee who knew the perfect Meen they had
worked at Arcosanti together she had come to attend the yew and wanted
to talk to me on divorce in middle age an assigned interview we went
on a nonclub outing with two or three to Dry Lake that snow-free winter
period had a chance to trail-talk in the woods' grim muted beauty
she had quick intelligence I liked a nice mole on her temple, and liked
you too, in that odd way who came on like a nun to teach or learn not
threaten my singlehood her kew and ay too pointed to hint of romance
yet she wanted to be around me I thought or wanted me around, while
Cee faded, not quite I kept on terms with the redhead whom Kay had
made a friend of as well she knew how to treat women manage them, Kay,
yes they responded to her and men the same no one ever so young as
she in the room, did your onetime madcap knave still hike go drinking,
not often once boy had arrived did come to fuck me a turn or three
even then I had lost the need to have just her my attitude take or
leave, unwanting, oh Kay detected want that I waited lorn and hearty
to be told not the only one of the hiking club like that, what did
she want, to run or lead make many one follow her wise-woman bent did
not know yet what all she might have wanted nor did I it did not matter
was too much fun in hot late spring to tag along to Arcosanti free
hiking visit tour that she a quondam live-in worker had arranged no
one thought of Kay’s own want but I am retrospecting now, you
went to where she had met the Bangladeshi, we did on a forenoon that
heated down Mogollon Rim glacis through roar of light past Verde River
loudening to mediterranean garden in thorn desert that a dreamer had
made to model an arcology meant to maximize interaction accessibility
of urban environment minimize use of energy raw materials reducing
environmental pollution waste allowing interaction with natural surround
he had written named Arcosanti, did you ride with the object of your
romantic nonpassion, I only watched it had not come to that I rode
with Cee two other men, while Kay, she had three women a man in her
Toyota walked us in and no one had to pay where everyone remembered
young wise one who now led a hike to ancient rubbled petroglyph in
the sun-blighted din hot urgent wind returning us to dreamland a tour
then lunch caffé balcone whence looking out I thought I liked
rude Arcosanti romanesque in poured concrete might even want to stay
and write but Kay said no you had to serve the dream to be here unrelated
work not allowed which wafted a hint of the monocratic, you were next
to her at table, I had hiked with Cee they had caught a photo on the
written rock of us to them we were a pair, you, Kay and I were at head
of outdoor table her brother ran the caffé one guy acted in
love with her another an Arco capo had wanted to marry Kay I was told
but read no meaning to me withal I had joy in camaraderie again, what
more had Kay told, that her people had been Mennonite the olden way
migrated to Phoenix during her childhood she had come north to take
journalism I was not the only one she intimated to, but, one of the
few men I think she quickened the mind the breath took us to a reading
matinée little theatron where one poet began a chant in German
meint ihr nicht the second followed with don' t you know translation
the don’t coming on nicht a kindergarten round of lead trochaic
a hunchbacked other read some talky poem in which a friend was said
to have moved to Vermont and I whispered that a move to Vermont did
not rank as ritual act except in Manhattan, to Kay who knew what you
meant, how parochial she said she had to have known, did you overestimate
the whippet, no at evening colloquy in bigger open theatron with him
the great very man she held her own he had uttered the mantra crowding
is good and suffocation is grand she rejoined he thought it amusing
not mockery, did she mention the Plan Voisin of Le Corbusier who had
written of a tower city in nineteen twenty-one to crowd the residents
free up land, no, the garden city movement, no, the name Charles-Edouard
Jeanneret, no, did la bimba go on to compare the love of magnitude
speed in the Voisin with the complexity-miniaturization-duration imperative
that dry-land Arcosanti embodied, no, did she deride i capelloni or
the crybaby me generation in America or refer to the pedestrian as
normal organism a given in arcology design, no, tell you to skirt Arcosanti
if you wanted utopia that the project would add a frugal evident manmade
deed to evolving cosmos did she mourn her plight tween yesterday and
tomorrow where she had to receive in the future what you had said in
the now of then, I, where she could talk to you in only tomorrow with
words of the yesterday becoming round her know she might well have
died when what she had remitted got to a you who did not yet exist
so admit you were doomed to work at the future in a mind of loss, I,
quote Zappa Santana on nostalgia immortality, I do not think she had
gone into the mind of the maestro to the extent of remembering all
he had written none of them had but Meen, them, the hiking company
Meen was not along though El might have done it whom Kay had recruited,
El, bright languid woman of Cee’s
vintage taught misanthropology anthropophagy at the local den of scowlership
where Kay had had her in a class oh El would have known much more of
Zappa Santana than Kay or the padrone ever had she had seen the end
of the movement but I doubt the man whom Meen had called a passive
god had mentioned Frank or Carlos, how did she happen to say, I challenged
her to put him in a phrase it came to her immediately, when, the day
we had gone to Philomena were having a brew the Muslim tradition did
not, you have brought her up time out of lack of mind you admired the
woman, she had intellect perfect beauty a command of language, who
would have been worth your loving as mate yet you hung with a knave
a kid a fun academic would not have married any one, I did not want
true amore I meant to stay in the day ago tomorrow of Cee had not quite
done with her not all with Kay, did you think you would have tomorrow,
well I fed the old animal the poet in me that lived today
had to chance not reaching tomorrow so on the night ride home in the
back seat, thinking
of El the moment odalisque of my eye I had only met, I let the redhead
slorp away on me the men in front had to know pretended not to, whom
I imagined angelic and plucking oud in a harem she had ridden with
young admirer would turn out to be more academic than fun had come
languid into wrong world or age I would think, nor did I mind Kay’s
new role unpaid factotum buddy to El a tender of plant and dog that
I had to hang around two to watch the one in an odd way I wanted, El
no match, Cee no presence her private youth retreat to run, eye Kay
on warm White Mountains trek where she slept in tent with El who had
thought of the outing invited me would get the Hawaii notion as we
drove home over whirlwindy plateau, talk Kay into it the two of them
chattering kidlike who had been matron and protégée to
now, not much had gone on in tent I thought, mere being with Kay had
wrung the maturity out of El made her unguarded nonpossessive, if you
don’t he’ll have to throw the ticket away she said the
which I had given Cee my intended companion on jaunt to visit old friend
Hum in Kaneyohe an idea she had leapt then wavered at all torn tween
me and boy so I had written her off in a note retrieved the ticket
would have eaten the loss, it will do you good, that night we reunited
to have Chinese I knew they had talked that El had worked on Kay who
would have to overcome more doubts than anyone knew, sat grownup in
black tween juvenated El and me in motley, made no announcement none
needed, the need on me to prove in time remaining what a kindly eunuch
uncle I was so I paid a manner of court to my worried young niece took
her à deux to lunch on many a hike a malling sortie to buy luggage
a jacket she had not demanded or hinted at, who had moved into hut
over gravel yard from Cee’s would put on Berg von Webern wield
a cigar when I came, the redhead not around, in token reciprochal effort
and knowing she liked me I mentioned that we were attracted, true but
in all honesty Rod I think I need someone nearer my own age, I hid
a smile had not proposed to marry the woman even take her to Hawaii
the notion of El’s that I had warmed to did not get mad or sad
would not on a another visit at what she must have early determined
to broach, you know I’m not going to sleep with you, the announcement
Kay not I had needed, to me it had a childhood ring my Adam not daunted
knew how the said could be undone, I let her off with a verbal shrug
went on to hone my courtier role with touch hug innocent kiss of dry
white hand allowed, not that I had contriven or was in love I had been
foxed and wanted to serve unwanton dominant kid who approved the break
with Cee would turn to me to advise in her writing meet Reader Over
Your Shoulder the cheeky one good style book I knew, meant not to lean
on uncle too much in matter of money, draw own light weight, welcome
Kay wrote Hum his wife and child en route to mainland there would be
room in apartment a broad-minded North Dakotan I had known some time
who worked as pee-ay ran swam hiked had written to welcome Cee too,
I landed alone to wake in lush bird racket grey ay-em my niece woman
to come third day on Cee’s ticket I had bought late though we
would return together, Hum a night-work man I went out solo in the
dense perfumy light walked windward shore to Heeia park on the left
volcano rock to the right an active reactive sea, around all huge vegetation,
took what they called the Circle Island bus noting lax good humor within
it the face haole or native or Malay no matter the country’s
look the same even on Dole hacienda and more loose pidgin kuka kuka
the nearer to town where I marveled at make-do toggery unhurried ease
mid urban Honolulu had rice canned meat in workingman diner that Hum
had told me of to see a rainbow hung on clouded east green palisade
with sunlight anywhere, man woman two children waving nodding bland
at the traffic along my ride to Kaneyohe, in Hawaii a candidate did
not run I thought he just stood out and greeted, in Hawaii the trouble
had already happened no need to devote one’s mind to it put on
a suit, I might well find what I had not knowing wanted an other light
than rugged Crete’s or Point Lobos’ or that of my mountain
dryland one no gentler belonging to wet and that permeated vegetation
conch rock, shone from within, what I saw nodding waving at me on the
vacant wide sand but now I awaited Kay who would come all jittery to
live in strange men apartment had to forewarn the good Hum a worlding
she or anyone would like, don’t play the white slaver, then Kay
arrived much the woman in fact had on a long dress walked tall unworried
to accept the lei I had gotten did mention that family had seen her
away at airport, they wanted to say goodbye you know well Ag had met
you which helped, their sacrificial lamb I might have said, young quiet
Ag the sister had done a rim weekend and we had talked up half the
trail had shared my canteen, must have deemed me all right for Kay
to go to on altar of man lust Kaneyohe, in Hauula damp green canyon
trek we saw ate mountain apple the next day mud-slogging Kahana Valley
to end awash on beach to whiff grilled meat a monthlong campout near
at hand of native gens, no one had to live inside, Hum never shut a
window, when he worked or slept we took in Diamond Head the botanical
garden my eye on Kay who seemed intent to do all wore a camera no hint
for me that she wanted old uncle around so much or not might have meant
to show gratitude to who had said early he would not be courting another
on trip, not that she had expected even thought of it, or true gratitude
no show of which I needed thought only to serve walked one forenoon
with her to the Heeia where we spread a towel in sea light lay did
not much talk I watched her breathe who had a tanktop on no bra one
nipple half in view and I had to feather-stroke her arm white arm do
more move into it all though Kay I knew would not be easy now or anytime
but I did not think she would jerk away like a twelve year old, don’t
touch don’t let it go any further, with a child cry of real hurt
bewilderment and I withdrew had not wanted a little girl or to make
love terrification had not even plotted an entry into Hum’s other
bedroom that I had given to her unasked, rape seduction trickery did
not turn Uncle on, in a while we continued the walk with no one it
seemed too upset rebuffed to enjoy the molten Hawaiian light, I’ll
buy you lunch Kay said, that anyone owed a what to whom who knew it
did not matter, I went along and during the meal I voiced an unapologetic
mild regret had not meant to offend but that Heeia moment had jerked
an end to courtier role had made me mere patron to Kay the protégée,
an El to her child, she looked serene again would take next day to
deviling me on crowded Ala Moana beach a wraith too thrawn in swimsuit
yet flirty with Hum in bookshop too where she thumbed a gay lesbian
paper, tween us on couch that evening to watch some tee-vee docudrama
her body a spindle no more with arch naked leg on show, moppet in heat
who knew we would have to remain inactive nonreactive set me against
old friend knowing we knew to maintain her pale of virginity, Hum a
stalwart had been to the world let squirm-titter couch ploy go on to
the limit it had not been meant to exceed even reach and I stood it
well had held no claim would remain indulgent when she snipped at me
next day in rented car to meet two home clubbers had done Kauai were
flying in to take the Oahu round enplane with us then to mainland,
how can I learn to drive this thing with you talking all the time I
can’t,
got worse the hikers matron women aboard up windward coast yet did
not quench my lax good-humored repartee, had to yield to it, Kay turning
now to the tour at hand had everyone visit the Marcos transit tomb
even talked to armed attendants, we agreed on Byodo-in though a temple
at verdant fluted Koolau range which recalled early time I had spent
in meditation made me aware how low my mind had come a thought underlined
at moment Kay struck the gong too hard, my juvenate animal could night-fly
home sleep next to the wild unwanton here at least, I woke when she
cried land and pointed into the coming dawn where I saw but rud dim
light on water how could she tell, a woman knows, Kay had a way to
make one trow her very word to madden one blew a dormant matron woman
in the ear awake who would not talk to us again, had left my car at
woody mountain airport whence we drove to her hut took out the luggage
but she did not want me to carry it, you are not going to help me in
Rod, vexed white brow, afraid of too-warm parting hug with Cee at neighbor
window I thought did not think twice were there good times
you and Kay in Hawaii at all, no bad times none wholly good the morning
we went to Pearl Harbor had to wait to take
the Arizona launch so we checked out a flea market Aloha Bowl made
a detailed plan to meet at the end she wanted to walk through it alone
but I could not find her had to run good ways to dock to catch the
launch where Kay arose to join me had had not an inkling it seemed
which put the right odd crick in visit with maudlin solemn crowd to
leaky Arizona in dead water my unwanton charge admitted fault I was
not mad I did not get it, you were not getting much, I, did you talk
to Hum, no need, some poet animal you, a poet an animal do more than
fuck I wanted her knew she would not but she quickened that side of
me in another way, what were you out on strike against fucking too,
the part that had sought reignition nonromantic intensity got juvenated
with Kay a vivid entr’acte tween Cee and the full woman love
I would meet in a month, it had to have clawed at you though to have
wanted the young one so much, I was no pícaro of twenty I managed
it did annoy me not to know her fathom it all I waited to credit a
reason beyond what lay right there, or avoided seeing, Kay might have
had an unnamed lover in town I thought one evening I glimpsed her with
a man in anglo cantina, and, turned out no the one in cantina a version
of fuller woman I wanted Kay to be had tricked my own eye, you mentioned
it to her, I did not go into much was not yet ready the while we were
the doting philanthrope and arriviste I donated toward the outdoor
birthday gala she wanted to throw herself I even made up with Cee so
that everyone could attend, whose idea, mine, how did it go, well enough
we talked made out on a mat of pine needles Cee maintaining she loved
me that we had both done ill which I found hard to concede what had
I done but quit a mess I had not made I let that ride however, and
Kay, it freed a lot she had no qualm, that you went into sex again
were you set to hurt the dry young thing retaliate, oh the redhead
and I were holding too much in reserve to fuck we had to avoid the
word Hawaii any mention of roommate who had only moved out as so did
Kay in our threesome I do not think she got hurt her role had involuted,
she liked you might have become attached, I had not invested a whole
heart in Kay either but she had more than one late chance I saw to
it, the wet other light of Hawaii had drawn you why not move on to
Kona you were not heart-entwined what tied you to the Coconino Plateau,
I was glad the immaculate morning we flew in to be home on the dry
altura its light was mine, you wrote to Hum you wanted to work in Honolulu,
an impulse, were you still content with job on the Navajo reservation,
I was but there I did see change had to hump the van six days in a
row to get three off and Indians I knew were dead already I took an
amigo Doc Don to the airport lucent afternoon onetime medico in Kenya
bush to learn when I arrived at clinic he had gone down minutes into
flight a monition not to dally much longer, end the strike you mean,
I had to was not that clear in my thinking, rid you of all the wrong
women write anew in the light of what you had found, get better not
so wearying work at least I wanted to edit I read the ads sent in an
app or two one job Kay nudged me toward a local not-yet magazine turned
out was a con, what, oh the talkative man that promoted had meant to
fund a quick run to Vegas nothing more he did get money none of mine
Kay had a notion to be on masthead typed my résumé when
they caught him I talked to police did radio interview it made me sick,
and her, no one could let the wise one down but maybe I had with Cee
I do not know one night I drove the redhead home and she came out of
next hut a muted hello not liking to see us alone together, you were
Kay’s patron, in fadeaway now I had wanted a wraith not been
in love, awaiting the next woman, with Meen in Oro Valley the dark
Em ever out of reach I might have turned to Mia light quick dragonfly
on the trail who worked in psychotherapy had told at onset of Cee it
would not go well but Mia even then unwilling invalid was in throe
of neoplasia when I returned from Oahu it would eat what little matter
the wiry darting woman had had and not take long I mourn her warmth,
the which Cee lacked, my madcap knew that Mia a rival was onto her
had a notion to join me on final visit did not work out the doc said
no too many were coming going in room I minded the notion anyway had
to look at Cee what manner of human would crow at a deathbed, one you
had loved were fucking, no when I got mad she would fellate me that
was it we were awane, how had she reacted when Kay moved in on you,
had gotten jealous and said I made too much of her then come to awe
young dominant one to join her woman retinue, Cee won you in the end,
I only marked time toward it with her nor had I ever been Kay’s
aim, you had hoped to give her a job on the not-yet magazine what did
Kay want of you now, she did not say but a chance to do the intimate
remained we hiked with El and visiting jocund man up mountain were
two couples that seemed dream-made to be together affected Kay who
had to act the mated woman the moment demanded it, one of the club
outings, well she did not go on them anymore so nor did El
and Cee, went private liked more modest chatty walk in wash or round
a lava hummock tarrying
ponderosa meadow lunch, I enjoyed that but a club hike too even oftener
took to the trail alone, this mountain climb a departure for the women
high hard trek the man whom El had known in Carolina graduate time
had wanted but the day the mood all licht und leicht we drifted joking
up to tree end where the sun began to lord over rock, had a picnic
to waldhorn music of remote bull elk the which El's friend and
I tried to echo, the elk get our vote said Kay, puck man wrapped her
knee in orange rind as retort had taught young women knew how to quiddle
the immature, then at Humphrey col we met halved brightness a whet
in the wind some gathering in of cloud were into monsoon month the
last had not forgotten not thought to plan, I rollicked on ahead over
naked ridge had no one with me to make the summit the dim air electric
I did not wait was halfway to saddle again to watch it hit where I
had been, ran through chill rain now who might have brought a poncho,
Kay wore one in a rock overhang to bide peak warrior’s return
said they have started down and let me walk tight next to her a mate
have part of the nylon shield too late who had been wetted marrow,
light came on during mud descent, El wanted to fix us dinner with Kay
and I to each go home to change then rally at El’s where the
fun romantic amigo had camped en route to el-ay job, an idea that would
tie me more to young white maybe warming one a mixed quartet in darken
eve the wine to candle the woman in her that needed man I might have
thought, I saw no worry in Kay she agreed but when she phoned me at
my room, may we take Cee along, I knew an unwanton had ruined an event
that so it would turn out the man massaging the feet of Cee I trying
to do Kay’s with El mad-weepy walking dog on the road, she had
conned the math afraid injected the discord element Cee or might have
ended the evening in man arms mine the other love couple at it too,
had put a woman friendship on the line to ward a virginity, or did
I have it naïve wrong, Kay might have meant to come tween El and
roué man no more than that her heart invested in the woman,
I would have time to think when I got ill cold mountain drench bronchitis
wrought me low a weakened walker driver had to while in my room did
not see any of Kay the women who did not check on me at all, men made
and handled tools were tools to her she had but women in her life I
thought had known she even wanted them no insight needed we had been
niece and uncle at play were friends now what hurt was having a young
friend ditch me, I wambled the Navajo land to country music drunken
wail the Indians wanted on radio a pity theme to myself then went to
a doc got antibiotic that restored the world provided me legs the élan
to join the retinue at coffeeteria who welcomed uncle patron in as
if I had not been out were aswim in dim live trio new-age music of
the living I could not hear what she said to me, by chance or design
we would meet in the long autumn to kuka kuka had an almost plan a
jaunt to watch cowrite about the gaming old in Nevada, went nowhere,
once we rode to a smoky redneck diner edge of town and I turned frank
which had not been our wont, said I need to have latitude I do not
want to be another superficial concrete man, with Kay my meaning, oh,
the hard child eyes told only what I imagined that she more knowing
now a wise twenty-two had begun the retrench would all of her head
to the women scrimp the men, I did know what to think at Halloween
fète when Kay and Cee came made up in hotpants booted a hooker
duo and she flirted around the clubman host who took her at the look
paid horny heed at eve’s end the riant madwoman in bed with me
then Kay too who had retreated in worry hurt said it’s Dan he’s
got the wrong idea, that what she had done to Hum mere me in Hawaii
to Dan that night was an act a parting hurrah to man-lust dream, did
not matter, I was retrenching in Zorba had seen the movie heard the
music everyone had, not read the words the oppression they tolled before
wide nature, once more there sounded within me together with the crane’s
cry the terrible warning that there is only one life for all men that
there is no other and that all that can be enjoyed must be enjoyed
here, a mind that heard this pitiless compassionate warning they went
on would decide to conquer its weakness and meanness its laziness and
vain hopes and cling with all its power to every second that flies
away forever, would try to overcome own weight in a Zorba dance I might
have thought of Kazantzakis’preachment
to the young I had had to youthen to get but did you need
such a warning you had clung to the women had you not given each second
its twittery due, like a bird without reflection
what I needed now was a mind to write the time had come to love the
dance in contemplation not doing, to gain back some of the weight you
had carried in North Dakota, no, the onymity, I would not be leaden
again seek minor local fame would work tred mountain would ready to
do it all alone, what did you aim to live on the van job, I had quit
in October nothing else in view but even with the Hawaii jaunt the
price of a car I had a lot of change remaining, you got a car, vee-doubleyew
used, why you have said you needed no means to get away you were already
there, my hike range had expanded I had to reach the remote trailheads
the club had driven me to it would not have done relying on them anymore
I hoped to go even farther once in a while to Escudillo Chiricahua
or the low desert, doing it all alone, maybe, you were a man in juvenation
which would have enhanced your want did you mean to carry on without
a woman dejuvenate, to find content with the wild dryland were a woman
along on the trek or not, you were not young indeed, juvenation had
been the florid stage of a megrim not real that amused me at the time
so many in the club went through it were spelled by wandy Kay, who
had enchanted you as well, I still wonder at her I admit it, did anything
happen, I had gotten a job at the local yew and Kay, job at where,
the university, a yauld true lifelong nonacademic were you not, I hate
a campus but innocent proofreading I would do it was half-time left
me rest of the day all week and Kay the redhead and El who worked in
the yew were glad Kay wanted to meet at cantina an evening celebration
did the choreography when no one came I went home would hear she had
not told El had misdirected Cee or me the Hawaii flea market over again
I was mad demanded we talk in other dive I chewed on recreant protégée
said she had done it to hog attention who only waited me out with cold
child eye no try to explain no memory of flirting Hum the thought returned
on my rage I had never been mad at her would in time apologize the
way I had said not what, the end, when Kay got tired of a man she would
ditch him mean I had seen it what happened with me too typical, and
the woman who had fucked you, Cee became an advocate that knew no wrong
in young one did not matter I was content at the yew had found a good
new love went ranging wider in clarion light that had made me its own
I had moved to plateau to do all of that I needed no more, except to
write, I began a novel at once an angry thing to do with North Dakota
my firing and a unique love, did it go, well