6 #2

Small of back, pool of sweat.

6 #1

Survive amidst uncertainty. Engorge. Nobody's perfect.

TV

Nelson temporarily switched of the television.

He looked out the window and saw a girl in a yellow raincoat walk by, though it wasn't raining.

His heart filled with sorrow.

Nelson turned the television back on.

Twirl

She has called on me again, lured me from the depth of my hold, splashing me on to the cold ceramics. I twirl for her, do my best to show myself off, to enchant her, to make her want even more. I still do that, after all these years, even though I now feel confident that she will want me even without my boasting charades. From the corner of my eye I watch her brush her long hair, stroke by stroke, using her antique rosewood brush. She leans closer to the mirror, carefully examining every crease, every wrinkle and every pore on her face. The eyes are piercing blue, but clouded. It is as though she is dreaming, yet her movements are crisp, wide awake.

Her long fingers are undoing the buttons of her shirt, top to bottom. It is not her shirt, it is much too big for her. She slides the garment from her shoulders, takes care to fold it and places it on the seat of the toilet. She turns to me, beckons me to look at her, to see her for what she really is, as she is standing there naked and honest in front of me. The closeness that I once found so frightening is not there any longer, many years have past since I last felt embarrassed by the sight of her naked body. I long for her, but I do not crave her. I want her, but even long, lonely nights without her are manageable these days. I still wish to please her, but I no longer live solely off the rush of her ecstasy.

Two steps forward, and she is right there next to me. I look at her, I twirl, and I invite her in. She lifts her right foot off the floor, and for a moment my eyes rest on the most private of her parts. She steps into me, slides into me, lets off a deep sigh and I embrace her. I explore every familiar one of her nooks and crannies, I massage her, urging her to relax, and she does.

Sayings, some common, some not

- There's a week between a good and a bad haircut.

- There's a Greek between a good and a bad Turk.

- There's a leak between a good and a bad pipe.

- There's a cheek between a good and a bad orifice.

- There's a tweak between a good and a bad performance.

- There's a creek between a good and a bad village.

- There's a leek between a good and a bad potato.

- There's a freak between a good and a bad tattoo.

- There's a peak between a good and a bad valley.

- There's a sneak between a good and a bad piece of gossip.

- There's a squeak between a good and a bad mouse.

- There's a beak between a good and a bad bird (the word).

- There's a creak between a good and a bad floorboard.

- There's a streak between a good and a bad window washer.

- There's a teak between a good and a bad maple.

- There's a geek between a good and a bad saying.

Seagulls Sing Your Hearts Away

- So do you think it could be?
- Hard to tell, really.
- Yes. I suppose it is.
- From a strictly deterministic view I would say it is entirely possible.
- Given the right parameters, of course.
- Of course.
- No real need to bring up determinism here though, is there?
- No. I suppose you are right.

Common People

Yes, there are nods in my direction, but still I'll never get it right. Alone in this hotel room, barely 1km from where Jim Morrison lies in eternal sleep, watching roaches climb the wall, I know that I'll never fail to be like the common people, dancing and drinking and screwing, because there's nothing else to do. Sometimes I sing along, even laugh along, even though they are laughing at me. Feeding on the spawn of other people's puerile existence. To be honest, I'm amazed that they even bother to exist, as they do not burn particularly brightly, before fizzling out without causing so much as a squidgeon of impact on this world around us. I can only wonder why. I'll never watch my life slide out of view... it hasn't happened yet, in any case.