somebody's truck backed into me while i was asleep a couple weeks ago
they ripped a huge dent into my front hood. i had just gotten my front hood replaced because a women had pulled into my lane a few weeks ago on Frontage Rd. and i t-boned into her passenger side. her car was totaled, my car left with damage to the front hood. i paid $500 of my deductible to have it replaced. i gave that woman and her daughter a ride home to their house in Oakland. she offered me some meats from the butcher as gratitude. i slammed into her passenger side as she was coming from the grocery store. this man's truck dug a giant hole in my front hood two weeks later. i left him a note with my phone number. the truck's owner called my cellphone.
somebody slammed into me on the Bay Bridge a couple weeks ago and then somebody slammed into him and then he slammed back into me and then somebody slammed into the person who slammed into him. one car was totaled, one man went away in an ambulance, my bumper was barely hanging on, all the cassettes in my trunk flew out of their cases, all the change in my coin container flew at my face like buck-shot. i've never used the word buck-shot before.
highway patrol are like robots. they are very weird people. like Men In Black. i asked one of them a question. and then he didn't answer my question. so i asked him the same question again, politely. and he repeated word for word the same thing he just said, aggressively. i heard him the first time and he knew i heard him the first time. highway patrol are very weird people. i can't imagine a highway patrol having sex with anybody. i don't think they have genitals. i just got into a four car accident on the Bay Bridge in rush hour and the highway patrol was acting like a Man In Black. i locked my keys in my car. the highway patrol left, the Caltrans left. i was sitting on a barrier wall on the side of the Bay Bridge looking down at the ocean. i think some people driving by probably thought i was going to commit suicide. after 30 minutes or so a man in a Caltrans truck pulled up. he had a "lock kit" which he used to open my passenger side door. i drove home listening to the end of the Giants game.
my neck hurt for a few days so i went up to Jenner. i woke up early and filled my backpack with beers. i grabbed a book and a towel and made my way to the hot tub. i soaked my neck in the hot tub drinking beers, not reading the book, over looking the Sonoma County Pacific coast. the hot tub water was green, but it was warm so i didn't care. later that morning i ate a breakfast burrito and drank sun-tea with vodka and ice. later that night i went to a party in the Castro and kissed a girl i've been wanting to kiss since i was a teenager.
i just got back from LA. i don't mind all the driving. i think it's easy not to leave your neighborhood in San Francisco because it's easy not to walk. sometimes the idea of walking from my neighborhood to another neighborhood makes me paranoid. i get self-conscious walking through crosswalks. i feel like i'm being critiqued. i forget how to walk sometimes. i feel too focused, exaggerated. i don't like the driver's gaze. i hate making my way through their line of sight. if i had to drive everywhere in San Francisco i could avoid other people. i would go to more parties. go to more galleries, eat out at restaurants occasionally. i still wouldn't go to the movies. i only go to the movies with my Mom. and even with her not very much.
right now i'm alone in my apartment. my roommate is meeting his girlfriend's parents in Washington. i like being alone, i keep my bedroom door open. i'm looking at the internet less and less in the morning. i really do wish i had some real life skills. i come from people with skills. carpenters, sailors, cowboys, soldiers, priests, travelers. my brother works on a sailboat now, he built a garden box with my dad in their backyard. i've only gotten in a few fights. i wish it didn't take so much to make me mad. i feel like i should make something other than poems. i'm sick of smiling for people. if you're an awkward person, and you're making the situation awkward, i'm not going to go out of my way to make it less awkward. i miss running. i dream about skateboarding too much. i think that's how people lose some of their power. by trying to cross that bridge. just let it be weird and drink your wine. right now i'm reading things like Late Returns: A Memoir Of Ted Berrigan by Tom Clark, The Apocrypha and Ben Hur by Lew Wallace. i wrote a postcard to myself or whoever finds it, tucked it into a book and shelved it. i made sure to mention that it was 2010 and that i am 30 years old.
“then how comes it, born originals, // we die...
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