7.24.17
a moment of bliss dissected into its elements:
…low sun…
…car…
…smell of leather…
…open window…
…wind…
…radio…
…sun roof…
…sweat…
…book in hand…
…you…
…California…
…time…
…and we were laughing
about something
but I can’t remember what.
Now I’m back home.
I hear the mice in the walls
mocking me.
If they push me
far enough
to the edge,
I may tear the walls open
and rip them out
with my bare hands.
. . .
Our shared moments
like pollen,
visible in certain light,
bring me back to consciousness.
They go as follows:
(1) our son, who yet is not, and may never be.
(2) you saying: I’m glad you took me with you today. I had a good time. I had a really really really good time.
Written at 11:35 at night, in my office, in Agoura Hills CA.