Jack Spratt

Creative diptych Evolution 

120820 1810 ankles

Naked in public, nothing much to see, just an old man shuffling around pants at his ankles laughing. Surprising. One testicle scarred awaiting test flight anxiously. We're so far beyond transference M&me when she began her professorial lecture voice informing me whence I came and wherefore I Goethe. My simmering mirth nearly burst forth. Oh smirking Jesus in a mangled grocery cart have I changed more than somewhat.

Little boys lack modesty naked until erections begin. Old men on the other hand when the erections flag no longer arriving so easily joke about it that is at least me. Until the impending solo test flight and equipment check. I'll report back.

Naked in public really means that I can no longer hide from those I work with, though volunteer, we're best buddies,  what I laughingly call my 'harem of guys;' actually all girls.

Occasionally they ask what I do with my free time. Instead of my usual reply regarding sticky keys and semen on the monitor screen. Or "I'm fine, still erect; sometimes saluting. . . .I'm looking at the right side of the grass." I quietly reply: 'write.'

It is a good thing this being a prophet in his own home being a fool since there is no hiding one's true nature in a hospice clinic. Though, in private I amuse them describing my routine arrival at home, spinning three times eyes closed flinging my house, car, everything keys then attempting to find them before forgetting why I'm looking -- my personal Alzheimer's test -- concluding that when I realize that I can no longer remember I'll go outside and make predatory bird food of myself with a hand grenade lying beneath my belt buckle. Naturally, the pin pulled and ticking briefly before the muffled bang.

I wonder if I'll ever be able to be held accountable by those I love for what I write; instead it seems better than they don't know or if knowing don't care to make me better define what I care about. In retrospect, after three years, it seems those about to die know what I care about: Them.

PS once burnt not twice shy but deadly serious/i always keep a 2nd set; keys that is
/but at that thanks to Bill Gosby/eventually i'd not know even that/caring not for myself but the burdening of those i leave behind attempting to resurrect a vegetable

120821 07:47

i am well and i love you so, take me now and forever, i'm your's
completely known and accepted for evil/grotesque or divine/dove you love me yet
i see you  male/female at times of all principals sensual & loving you more passionately
longing to be filled/filling you by night day any hour all minutes and seconds ticking in this limited life i
Live? Places Palaces Common Extraordinary everywhere and anywhere are you with me beloved trust emphatic the mortar/pestle gold, lead, hourglass or air bestirred vagrant behavior twirling at varying degrees and kinds oscillating warbling wobbling making of the Zodiac a cyclorama with new signs of
Unknown/Unknowable Once oh yes just recent twice did I know your embraces suffusing me a hot air
passing through the nose flute of me Andean evaporating into thin air
the woman specific 1st did I attempt to capture and have yet
having not her for a time forgot and sought none
until the one with Lila impossible dishonorable
yet for that moment molten eruption filling
the room with love embracing not
just she but she also the three
of us yet only i knew
you'd been
there
of
Whom
or
What?
God of course!
ACTUALLY?

© 2012 by Jack Spratt All Rights Reserved