from day’s 3 pages

…as the last few projects have.  I’ll be ont he road soon and speaking to students and fellow instructors alike about the new pedagogy— shouldn’t say ‘the’, like it’s the only type, but my methods, what works for me.  Have to laugh, am I still awake?  What will I be like on the Road, speaking to students in other states, and writing ‘bout my days walking those streets of unfamiliar towns— all the newness out there, right now, now, it’s just a wish!  But not too much longer.

Think I left my wine, the last Carignane pour, on the counter, so I have to rise from this floor, from my music, and walk all the way over there— listen to me, the lazy writer, whining like those blazing white idiots on that BRAVO show, like their life is so hard, so trying and such a beleaguering test.  I need a sip, or four, just listen to this music and not write.  When I’m at the bottom of the page I will be— just had a memory of my cousin Nick and I in Sunriver, getting lunch and a soda at the “Convenience Store” on Cottonwood (think that’s the street’s name).  So long ago, so free were then we, now me with 2 and he with one en route.  Time, another score.  Goddamnit, there’s nothing I can do against time, no matter how I—  WAIT.  This jazz, the KEnny Garrett track, “Monkey-ing Around”, from the Happy People album, tells me, COMMANDS ME, to let go. Forget about it.  Just play.  Listen to the music and don’t care— go to the counter, get your wine, it’s only 11:!4— you’re a writer, drink wine, love life, love your babies, your family, everything, the fact you have poetry as your language, the time and light and the dark with how quick it turns to light (the next day).. don’t care.  Just live.  Love little Ms. Austen and little Kerouac like there’s not tomorrow, ‘cause tomorrow is only predicated on today.  With the Now there is no Then.  So prioritize…