7 abril 7 = 18.spring 20.moon 50.spaceage
Holy Saturday — Sabado santo
HE HAS LAIN in the tomb sleeping, or dreaming, or traveling in spirit, his being descending into hell until on the third day, tomorrow, he rose again will shall is am are was were beginning end now etcet.
how the "official" quote-unquote no irony only comma comma quote mark quote mark calling into question the very meaning of language and life itself no. No. NO !
We go see a movie, Maria and I. Before and after sit around and talk. We will not, however, spend a gazillion dollars on a fancy snack in the Argentine cafe by the corner kitty-corner from something burger just across the neck of the parking lot from giant franchise chain invading Mexico on the edge of Otay Plaza Americana I thing it's the bugger kink but no remember we didn't go there we went to the new little Argentine café on the corner it is sweet and casual and delicious only ratherrrrr priceyyyyyyy lunch will cost you fifty dollars for two with wine and desert cha ching ba da bing goodbye one week's budget oh yes I could have said no but I didn't want to no.
Anyway that was a week ago and again today we went to see another movie there at the multiplex I get her to go early to save money on film tickets (Jeez I am getting tired of not having any money I think it's time to get a better-paying job or SomeTHinG) only three dollars to get in to a big hollywood movie or a major Spanish or Mexican flick that hardly shows at all on the other side today we go see something horror THE REAPING cute little formula piece about plagues in a small Louisianna town all the usual twists and turns wrapped up in pleasant acting and "beautiful" cinematography oh when oh when are people going to make movies that look clunky and shoddy and poorly lit and stupid? Heh heh hee I am growing accustomed to the face of youtube oh yes. Before the film
Before the film we had a couple of designer coffees at the tortas shop next door inside the inner courtyard where there are empty shops that seem to be failing but the tortas shop offers coffee from Veracruz it was pretty good. Only cost fifty pesos instead of fifty dollars. Cha ching ba da bing.
They nailed him up on the cross yesterday to suffer and die and I am worried about how much lunch cost me a week ago? No. Cost "us" she paid half. That's how much she wanted to eat there after the movie. After we saw what was it we saw oh my already I forgot all I can remember is the enormous hole in my little budget fifty dollars no, thirty I paid thirty she paid twenty oh yes now I remember, it was 300 we saw a week ago yes.
While I was house-sitting last week I looked up the "original" story of the Spartans and Xerxes in a copy of Herodotus my clients had in their library (heh sounds like a mansion no only a three-bedroom with the kids all grown and moved out and one bedroom now their TV room with lots of bookcases POOF it's a Library!) yes and anyway the movie was, how shall I put this politely, "exagerrated" yes but then I did not go see it for history, no I went to see a big living comic book EXCUSE ME "comic book" is Politically INcorrect it is a "graphic novel" oh yes it it's it IS "graphic" alright. All right. Or rather, WRONG twisted and distorted history but full of unbelievable middle-aged old-soldier hunks still pumped up after all these years yes a baby boomer's dream and well, xerxes... never Never NEVER probably looked like that (except maybe for the women crawling all over each other heh heh heh another baby boomer dream mmmm multiple women yes) anyway I forgot how many parentheses I am carrying here now oooooops....
after Friday comes Sunday
poet line border poeta línea frontera three words from Tijuana tres palabras desde Tijuana marching up and down the page on the street caminando sobre la pagina arriba y abajo en la calle scribbling para garabatear en la larga plaza peatonal in the long diagonal plaza Santa Cecilia daring yourself to double entendre a ver si te atreves a meter el doble sentido border line poet - border poet line frontera línea poeta - frontera poeta línea poet border line - poet line border poeta línea frontera - poeta frontera línea line border poet - line poet border línea frontera poeta - línea poeta frontera etcétera quotidian cotidiana combination combinación hay seis maneras de decirlo desde six ways to say it from 3 x 2 perm-mutaciones perm-mutations con más chances de pegarle al gordo more chances of hitting the big one uno entre seis cada día one in six every day más que cualquier relámpago de la apestosa lotería que descarga por acá o allá more than any stinking lottery lightning striking here or there on either side of ambos lados de nuestra border poet line frontera poeta línea
meanwhile I continue to prepare for two upcoming events
of a more "literary" i.e. verbal, written
bent
although both are "performance"my first big reading on the 27th april, at the casa de la 9 on ninth street near the corner of pio pico
and the congress of writers from may 30 to june 2 in Hermosillo but I would like to go for another ride on the Ch&P railroad over the sierra madre before or after yes maybe before
FROM 5 june 2006: notes on the copper canyon train ride
I will lift up my eyes to the hills. Huge, steep mountains are moving and turning overhead, pinnacles and jagged rock layers brushed with green and gray. Brown dry cleft, railroad clinging to the edge (TUNNEL, 4 seconds) above a deep, ragged, strong channel where rivers used to run tunnel tunnel I cannot take my eyes off the window we plunge through pinnacles and towers of stone unbelievable precipices of stone soaring straight up up up over the twisted streambed littered with gigantic boulders and trees, real trees no more reservoir stain here now, no, we're climbing, climbing alongside above the wild, flash-flood scoured arroyo barren dry streambed speaks only of floods and drought nature, not man-made... stare out the window cliffs and boulders cactus, bush, tree then TUNNEL emerge again into this awe-some view like some Chinese painting of towering pillars bones of Mother Mountain Sierra Madre more trees now still mixing cactus thorn brush boulder cliff a ruined gondola crashed down there in the canyon bottom then another very little water stagnant pools surrounded by ragged fields of stone stream-side trees exposed roots ripped raw by vanished floods STOP WRITING look w a t c h tunnel tunnel tunnel tunnel tunnel each of them flickering between stunning views I can write no more don't take our eyes off the view JESUS MARY GOD what a mountain have you made here!
I lied yesterday. I did not cross over on Saturday, it WAS Sunday. And I did tell the truth otherwise. I was on the other. The other side. Side. I had to leave Mexico, I had to abandon Tijuana, to go "back" to San Diego (where I grew up and worked for 30 years) to house-sit for four days.
And besides maybe I didn't lie maybe I only mistook myself I catch myself right now looking for the ticket the 300 the movie we saw on Saturday eight days ago and I remember I said yesterday that I had crossed over on Sunday.No. I said Saturndaeg but it wasn't it was the next day yes and I remember that right now because how else could we have gone to the movies on Saturday and ate a late lunch at four o'clock when I was already on the bus or trolley or other bus or walking and just now getting go to her David she's just now waking up artificial intelligence how long before the robots can see right through the twisted little number letter grams they make us decode in order to sign up for accounts on line they want real organics not machines who can think a million miles a second and manipulate then ten zillion computer accounts all atonce
I remember time-share
the secret word I heard in 1975
I was a messenger running a little white Pinto back and forth
across the Potomac river between our clients in Washington D.C. the city andtheir clients in Northern Virginia and our clients in Maryland.It was all so long ago in the dark ages before cellular phones. The guards at all the federal palaces and private business buildings all had squawky walkie-talkies on their belts beside the rings of jangling keys, and sometimes, sometimes, a gun.
I was so very young when I ran away to Washington to escape
to come in off the beach of California
to learn life like back east
the gray flannel
I never
wore
it, no
but I went to art museums
and looked at paintings and refreshed
my view and knowledge and experience of visual creation
and wrote a lot of a lot of a lot of a lot some of it has been lost, others yet remain crumbling
in my filing cabinets along with all the other years of my long, middle, baby boom life scribble scribble scribble scribble scribble scribble scribble scribble scribble scribble scribble scribble scribble scribble scribble scribble scribble scribble scribble scribble scribble scribble scribble scribble scribble scribble scribble scribble scribble scribble scribble scribble scribble scribble scribble scribble scribble scribble scribble scribble scribble scribble scribble scribble scribble scribble scribble scribble scribble scribble scribble scribble scribble scribble scribble scribble scribble scribble scribble scribble scribble s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s
maybe some day I will publish it all
well, some.
on-line
go hyper text — go hyper text
