Drawing

Finally, a drawing! I did a drawing while listening to ween, sweat pouring off my brow, rapid gestures, my arm skating quickly across the paper, my eraser violently tearing into the meat of blackness. it was so much fun! I hadn’t done any drawing since I got here. Here is poem about it

Shaking my eyes,
wings
Lost the instant I new,
dead already,
Bewildered by the size and symetry,
Fighting my paper,
the arm signs cicada
stickytacked, photographed,
And I relax, black
fingernails.

I also wrote a poem while waiting for my bus in a starbucks in matssuyama

8-15-05
im at a starbucks in matsuyama
reading paulo coelho and chogyam trungpa,
looking out at the busy intersection,
feeling good to be a minority.
The constant current of people parade past,
some look at me, some sexy bodies,
old bodies, hunched over hat and gloves,
kind bodies, each one with a history I imagine. Each with intent.
i write

The carpet of creation shimmering rainbows under the brilliant sun of awareness,
The crystal clear light blanket brings bright billowing babies to tell the tale of terror on TV.
I look up.
Holding hands to cross the street, mother and child.
15 min till the last bus home.
Old man Head wipe sweat swear at the heat head for shade,
Old lady walks with dignity,
she walks with her bag of groceries,
she walks with her angle suspended slightly above her head.

Also In matsuyama I visited the oldest public bathhouse again with jesse and claudia. In the changing room, jesse and i stood naked, looking at about twenty other wet naked men, and a middle aged women in uniform cleaning. they just dont give a damn here!