Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

I liked the simplest things, still do,
one thing was water color books that I'd just dab some drops of water on the page with a plastic handled brush and magically a ship would appear casting it's fate on a huge wave all in water color blues, yellow on the boat, red on the crew.

The whale was sea green with a rainbow smile.
Everything just needed water dropped on,
it was magic, a magic style and easy.
I liked easy, too.

It was sunter under dress
in the midsummer lore,
I went to you
around the bend,
plunter, plunter
more.

In a sea of octopus life,
I was whore.

in a whore of sea life
i was octopus

In an octopus
is where I lived
all the more.

I'm glad i'm not a haddock
being scooped up in a net and sold
to some roadside fish fry stand in upstate new york
and being ate by somebody
i don't even know on their way home
and wanting a beer to go with it

Newspaper with prints
laid out across water
lifted and shaped to crowns
worn on the heads of hooks
and sticks which bobbed,
then weaved along the roads
of many catfish men
a million miles from me

if my heart breaks
I'll build a ship for it
and my ghost will navigate
on the great river, the horrible sea
and walk it across the sand
to be balled up by her

when he finds it,
these catfish men,
he'll read that I read
about the government
and he'll know that I leaped at the water
and thought of all the floating images
which stirred, thrived and ate there
over and over again.

What bellies are there to live and breed
in a monster sea.

He'll know that I was there
to feed them, their big mouths
and eyes, knowing sure enough
that they'd carry me the journey.

thank you
I used to be a fish she said.

Ha Ha, well, I'd have to think about the not being a fish part.

She introduced me to her friends with the remark "he used to be a fish"
I am still thinking about what she meant
that was the winter of 1975 Boston
College girls and beaver coats
rosy cheeked demons starry eyed maidens
me on the road hitching around the east coast
the winter I read "When Jesus Suckled"

Maybe it's just as simple as meaning keeping the loneliness away, keeping her company and together.

oops
i were editing
while you was typing

She was into you
and you welcomed warmth...
back in boston.

I carried her selected poems around for a million miles over the road and read and read this over and over, When Jesus Suckled

...
I am small
and you hold me.
You give me milk
and we are the same
and I am glad.
No. No.
All lies.
I am a truck.
I run everything.
I own you...

maybe so, maybe she was into me, but I can't see how or why, my dark time, a creepy lost time for me, after silent woman's abortion.

interesting post here I thought
http://studioeight.tv/phpbb/viewtopic.php?f=98&t=25137

I just want to tear open the box and place a neatly folded paper in it with one perfect kiss on top, red lipstick. I get these notions and I try to wait them out.
I'm sure she saw some flickers of things that looked better than anything she'd seen.
After-all, you are sometimes magician.
Ya got your hat on?