The Breeze Easy in the Leaves

4th of July 1:38 PM F
The Subway sandwich shop in the parking lot of the Ralph's here by the house at Pico, San Vicente, and Venice. The women are all dressed down and horny, ready for their summer fucks. Not a cloud in the sky, blue as blue, but for the gray haze at lower elevations. All was still on the walk down; no one was on the sidewalk, just me and the breeze easy in the leaves. Too bad I'll be in a fucking suit. I can't imagine a dumber day for a wedding. When I'm done with a sandwich, I'll walk over to Ralph's for a six pack of beer. I'll drink it while I work on the '92 file. Then I've got to shower, shave, and suit up. Shirelle is bitter because she has to drive. The wedding is at Clarke Estates in Downey or something. I could go for another

(EXIT) (THIS DOOR TO REMAIN UNLOCKED DURING BUSINESS HOURS) (SUBWAY(with arrows leading out of the of the southwest of the S and the northeast of the Y)) (GNIKOMS ON (backward letters))sandwich but maybe I ouught to wait for the food at P
the wedding. I feel a little disenchanted. What the hell else? I'm U
nowhere near the end. I'll get a loaf of bread at the market, too, so I S
can make peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. There goes another H
one: The occasional firecracker pops. The radio plays a string of Marvin Gaye tunes in an alphabetical countdown of Motown's greats. I wonder if there's time to drive up Cahuenga? When will I learn that deal doesn't go on no more? Thing and Carlin went to the noon showing of "Men in Black" at the Cineramadome. The walls in here are papered with a black and white collage of New York City structures. A page to go still and an empty brain: What else? The Place Where Fresh is the Taste TM
I'll do more later.
(Not a bad drawing of the 32-cent Mighty Casey Stamp, with his turn-of the-century handlebar mustache, stadium pennants flying in back)

5th of July Sa 10:03 PM
Tim Salmon just tied the game for the Angels against their division-leading rivals, the Seattle Mariners. I got my pictures back from the trip. Almost a whole role is blurred because I had the wrong shutter speed. I like the picture of a crab in a tank in a restaurant across from the Kingdome.
(a drawing of a misshapen man staring up, from down and below his right buttock)

“Well, you shouldn’t do that,” he said and left me.

 

“Well, you shouldn’t do that out there,” he said, and left me in my room. Monica and I had been on the side of the house, taking turns looking down each other’s underpants. I don’t think I was tall enough to even reach the latch on the gate. So, we didn’t even go into the backyard. How do six-year-olds know to look for some private place for such things? I saw some pudge with cleft running down through it. I don’t remember how we’d gotten around to it, what was said, whose idea it was. Next thing I knew, by dad had me by the elbow, and he scolded us and sent Monica home.

Around that time, a friend of my mom’s and dad’s were in town, Brodie Murphy and his wif. He had brought a camper from Back East. He was going to the circus. I wanted to go. My mom said no, I wasn’t invited. I pestered. She said I was rude. The guy said it was ok, and I got to go. When we got there, the circus was sold out. As a consolation, I suppose, the Murphys bought me a plastic jeweled pirate sword, so I was a good sport about not going to the circus.

I drew pictures of what I imagined the circus was look from images I’d seen in books and movies and on TV, but I drew them with naked people. Circles with dots in them were tits. I drew a circle with a vertical line through it for the vulva.

The ringmaster had a top hat and a dick. This was in the second grade. Even then, we always found “naked magazines in peoples’ garages. Ronny Michaels showed us his dad’s Penthouses in a box in their garage. I had dreams about naked people in our garage. I told my friend Kevin Yamamoto about it on the way to school. We agreed it would be good to see more naked people, as long as we could keep our clothes on.

___

What else? I sawr a baby squirrel make his way along the electric wires. A crow landed and the kitchen blew a fuse.     Shirelle made tacos. After this, I’ll shoot some hoops. The phone rings. Thing calls, “Hey, John! It’s Shirelle!”

“So, why’d you kick me out?” she asks.

“Cuz I wanted to write.”