THOSE WHO SUFFER LOVE
Tonight I stood on my former front porch in front of my former home, in what now seems an impossibly tropical, impossibly archaic and mysterious hallucination of a former hometown and the full moon made huge, circular rainbows in the huge, circular clouds as they passed it by. All the palm trees were perpetual black cut outs against California's perpetual indigo, all the fishing boats shone a thousand lights off the ocean. I kept thinking about the time that lighting struck Catalina in the dark, and lit it all on fire, so that it looked as if the ocean were, far away, erupting in flames. And we all just stood around and watched.
I am sometimes completely crushed by the sheer weight of things.
I would like, at one point, to reach my hands out in abandon and find someone there to touch.