There Will Be Blog

It played out slow, like danced-out
Music, a trace of smoke from
A years-old fire, like doubts sneaking
Peeks at a once-proud confidence

I’ve had my encounter with the covid-19, or at least suspect I did. One night of fever and feeling quite ill, followed by a week of mild flu-like symptoms. I was already in self-isolate mode and well stocked for supplies so no biggie. At day five I called Family Medicine at UTMB and they got me right in for the test. Being aged sixty-five gets you something like a senior discount in this particular pandemic. During my examination I got to revisit my blood pressure issue and got a new stronger scrip right there on the spot. The covid test came back the next day, negative, but with the caveat that they’re seeing a lot of false negatives.

Two weeks out and I’m feeling back to normal, newly resigned from my job, looking at a thin gruel of future to sustain me. The new blood pressure meds are working great though. About the only good set of numbers I’m seeing these days.

Stability is sodded
with an eagerness to perceive
that things aren’t changing.

aging: —a gradual dissipation of vanity, by force if necessary. Resistance is possible, though the subject’s levels of self-absorption must increase four-fold in proportion to the level of sustained mirror gazing desired.

Being is the tiger’s tail
these bodies come and go

Being is the monkey’s grin
if only it weren’t so

Notebook, April 2020

Subterranean TP Blues

The toilet paper aisle is void
of anything to buy

The hoarders came like locusts
and we had to wonder why

But now we see the auctions up
on eBay rising fast

I’m down to one thin precious square
I’ll have to make it last

Stay well everyone, and for now, stay put.

Signed: Quarantined in Galveston

Unseemly

Words mean what I seem to think
So I insist that’s what they mean

And I seem to think that you think you know
Upon which page we think we’ve been

By turns we’ve come to disagree
At what is true and what is scheme

Now don’t let’s come to blows my friend
We’re likely in some pedant’s dream

Dreaming the Jitterbug

My leg is asleep
and dreaming the jitterbug
and once it wakes up
I’ll be able to walk around
like a person with places to go

And my leg will fondly
recall its dream, and put
a little kick in my happy step
and it will all be good, unless
I think about it too much

A Prosecutor Prepares for the Testimony of Mr. Carlos Santana

Thank you for testifying today Mr. Santana, let’s get started.

Concerning the Black Magic Woman you wrote of, to be clear is this a woman who practices black magic, or a black woman who practices an unspecified type of magic? Would stage magic be considered a valid type of magic in this instance?

When did you first suspect that the Black Magic Woman was trying to make a devil out of you? Is being a devil something you have attempted unsuccessfully on your own?

Is it possible that your own perhaps unacknowledged desire to be a devil is what drives your relationship with the Black Magic Woman?

Let’s move on to your baby and her alleged evil ways.

Now, when you arrived home on the night in question, you stated that your house was dark. Aren’t you in the habit of shutting off lights when you leave the house? Isn’t it true that you have no real concerns about the lights being off, except to imply that your baby was not at home when you expected her to be. Where were you, and who were you with, prior to returning home?

As to the pots which you claim were cold, you stated that they were, and I quote, “my pots,” so this was cookware that you yourself had purchased? Is it your view that your baby is somehow solely responsible for heating up pots that she doesn’t even own?

When you complain that your baby’s ways are evil, isn’t it based on your own view that her role in the relationship is to be subservient, and that you are being overly zealous in detecting deviation from this desired norm?

Is it possible, Mr. Santana, that what you describe as “running around” is simply your baby’s pursuit of an ordinary and healthy social life?

You have complained that you feel compelled to be ‘runnin and hidin all over town,’ and also ‘sneakin and peepin’ etc. This sounds exhausting. What is it that compels you to do these things, if not an exaggerated sense of suspicion or jealousy?

This issue you have of feeling like a clown, did you seek counseling? Is it possible that you are projecting your own sublimated inadequacies onto your baby, in the form of blame?

(possible objection: witness is not a psychologist)

Is your baby as well acquainted with the Black Magic Woman as you are? Have they ever even met?

How did your baby respond when you threatened to stop loving her? Are you sure she’s still your baby? Have you checked lately? Why do you never refer to your baby by her given name? Surely she has one. You refer to her friends Jean and Joan by their names.

(possible objection: badgering)

Are there any women at all, Mr. Santana, that you admire, or even approve of?

Mr. Santana, are you familiar with the term “woke?”

(Note: Evil Ways is a great song with very stupid lyrics.)

Poetry

Here’s my idea for a poem:

Here’s the poem:

If we could dispense with
all this elaboration

And just transmit our ideas
directly

There’s probably a Buddhist tantra
that shows you how

And a Nihilist aphorism that
says why bother, but

Isn’t the ramshackle an honest look
at how things go ?

Image (1st) by Pete Linforth from Pixabay
Image (2nd) by Vicki Nunn from Pixabay