Shades of Gray

Shades of Gray

 

When you’re a child you think everyone tells the truth.

You think your mother and father will be together forever.

When you see your first divorce it’s kind of like seeing your first accident.

You can’t believe this could happen

Sometimes people stay together because they can’t stand to be alone.

They tell themselves it is  for the children

but actually it’s to spare themselves pain.

Sometimes you think it’s better to lie and have maybe three or four different lives and after a while you don’t know which life is real for you.

I’ve known a lot of people like this.

Unfortunately more than one have wanted me to join in but the problem is I don’t see shades of gray.

I like black and white.

You are mine I am yours and that’s it.

Call me crazy but it’s a heck of a lot easier.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Despair

 

This summer the windows in the house steam up like they used to when there were teenagers inside.

All that glorious passion every morning.

This summer everything is slightly off:

The gaits of the horses, the timing of the stoplights, the phases of the moon, the beat of people’s hearts.

Reports keep coming of various things the vaccine does and continues to do yet they are always coupled with remarks saying of course you should have the vaccine.

Yesterday a newscaster reported that a disease which causes paralysis of the face is a side effect of one of the vaccines.

Tomorrow maybe it will be paralysis of the tongue.

In California there is no water and will not be water for a very long time. Sharing is not common among the western states.

Fires are burning and the police departments are passing out placard’s which state “evacuated” to put on your front gate when you leave.

More people died of a drug overdose in the past year than ever before. Suicide rates are up and the ages of those who kill them selves gets lower and lower.

People wonder if it’s best to keep all of this quiet. The sale of hearing aids has gone down. The news is quieter and quieter as people are turning down their television sets.

The optimists are fading and are becoming almost transparent like the colors in a bubble a child blows.

For a moment the fragrance of summer can blow across your face if you let it. Better make haste. Memories of fragrance are so fleeting.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

         

 

 

 

Maybe

 

  Soon Enough

 

It is dark nearly all of the time.

People have forgotten the feel of water.

Lifetimes have shortened

Partners are assigned

The dictionary has been revised.

So many words no longer exist,

Joy, Hope, Heart ,Listen, Compassion,

Friendship, Cookie, Sunshine, Language

Touch

The past disappeared so rapidly that

history

Forgot to transcribe itself.

There are no more Buddhists.

It’s tomorrow.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Best Memory

                                   The Best Memory

 

 

The best Fall I remember happened outside of Paris due

north near Chambord in November maybe October’s

when the Beaujolais Nouveau was released along with

me…I walked out

the door of the inn we stayed in

while you drank with our host.

I wandered following troughs of wet leaves marking

the crusades and the dark fall  all yellow

smelling of dank and my life as an

obedient pathfinder Joan of Arc

wanting you to worry I was lost

yet  knowing you never would.

Hours later I reluctantly returned just as I used

to at 8 and still no one noticed.

I think we made love that night

as we usually did but the bed was small, you

said, as you moved across the parquet floor

to the adjacent one

and closer to your children across the

Atlantic and I imagined

us leaving in the morning croissants uncurled

and me dressed in black because you said it was

best and before I knew it we were back in

California and you were married again

yet I was still outside of Paris in November

in 1996 longing for something I had felt

for a brief moment but never again.

Person of Interest

“I bought a trailer because I joined a gang.

My feet itched and my rain was shutting

down so I became a nomad

something I’ve always wanted to be.

Some language has a word for it: people

who don’t feel like they belong anywhere.

That’s me. I’m pretty old so I was worried

about camping places

alone. Don’t get me wrong I’ve got two

dogs but they haven’t been trained for

anything

but disobedience which I am fond of.

I am old now so no one would be interested

never knowing that I have a flipstack of cash

stored in my hubcaps: left front and right

rear.

I’ve always liked going north.

It doesn’t matter where I start

I just like heading north.

And I like it

Alone”

Taken from the Missouri Star interview with Lulu Roamer photographed in front of her Teardrop camper

Two days before the Inauguration

Everything is still. I never understand why there isn’t a drumroll when the sun comes up particularly these days. I got rid of my gun. Well, that’s not completely true. I got rid of my ammo which seems the same. I think I’ll just sit and wait for the revolution. On my front porch legs askew drinking beer I’ll wait for them to walk up to my front door and say who the hell are you? I’ll tell them quite calmly that I’ve been trying to answer that question most of my life. It doesn’t matter where you live as there’s no security anywhere. Today it’s so quiet but I know it will be very noisy on Wednesday. I’ve found that’s generally true. Right before a major explosion there’s an unearthly quiet that itches into your skin. Even the dogs are restless. The big one sighs heavily every hour or so. Sometimes when you’re in a really bad situation you try to back out of it. I’ve had this feeling before. I’m thinking to myself no this isn’t what I wanted to have happen but it’s too late. I think it’s too late for this country to right itself and make everybody get along.Rich people are trying to get vaccinated before everybody else. Poor people don’t want to be vaccinated as they think it’s a trick. Maybe it is.

I never thought I would spend the end of my life sequestered but on the other hand maybe it’s a good practice for what comes afterwards.

This moment

The most important thing to do for me is to keep reminding myself that every breath I take is an exercise in staying alive. Don’t look to the future even if it’s just tomorrow. Don’t look at the past and all the shadows. Just keep breathing. If I need something to calm me down I think of my grandchildren. I am very grateful for them. I’ve had other periods like this in my life but they were from my own depression which caused me to feel that I couldn’t go anywhere or do anything. The fact that this is caused by a worldwide pandemic is too mind boggling to even comprehend. So I focus instead on the books in my house that I have yet to read, and the people that I hear from that I love so much. That’s my work. I wish I could help you find yours.

It’s Wednesday

It doesn’t really matter what day it is because nobody knows anyway. Maybe bankers know. I don’t know. I don’t really care. I have a weird feeling that things are not going to get better for a really long time. I’m used to my mask by now and in fact I find it quite handy. I could be a bank robber, or an anesthesiologist. I go for the latter. I think there are a lot of people who would be happy to have me put them to sleep right now. I don’t think I’ve eaten any vegetables today. Normally I would know right away what I’ve eaten each day. I don’t really like fruit. We never had fruit in our house growing up. We had six shiny mackintosh apples in a straw basket on top of the red counter in the pantry. They were the only snack we were allowed after school. I hate apples.

So far today I’ve eaten enough for three large dogs.I think it’s because my armor thyroid medication is out of stock. It’s only 2:03 PM. That means I have another eight hours to go until I can go to sleep. I love going to sleep. I love the smell of my sheets and the coldness of my room and the lack of noise. Every night there’s only one possibility of noise and that either comes from the big dog or the small dog. They are snorers but not every night. Of course, I might be a snorer too but no one has ever told me that because there’s no one here to tell me that. My friend called me and asked what I’ve been doing with myself thinking that I will complain and say how lonely I am. I’m not lonely. I find it soothing to be here alone. Now I don’t need an excuse. In the afternoon I can light the fire and sit in a chair by the window and watch the people on the street. I have a little free library and sometimes people stop and take books out and then put them back. They have no idea that I’m watching them. I have no idea why I’m watching them. It’s fascinating. Everything is happening so slowly. Sometimes I open my watch and set the clock a little bit ahead just for a bit of relief. I would like to stop eating healthy food and start smoking and drinking martinis. I bought a magazine that said on the cover “100 best places to visit before you die” and tonight I’m going to mark it up. It will be the highlight of my night. One thing that I’ve noticed is my dreams are getting very real and sometimes in the middle of the day I think I’m in the middle of one of my dreams.. I spent at least 2 1/2 hours having lunch in Hawaii before I realized I wasn’t eating mahi-mahi. All it takes is a comfortable chair and a light breeze for me to regress to the night before. I’ve been to so many parties recently that I’ve worn out my wardrobe. Funny, I wake up wearing the same pajamas but in my sleep I’m still Cinderella. OK there you are.