November 17 2011 Instead of Coffee

The clay is not what you think it is. It is breath pushed upon us by the priest at the baptism of a fool,. The Lord, God, breathed directly into Adam’s nostril never removed his chewing gum. Make mussels in tomato for me and I will make gespacho, balancing heat and cold. Boil the linguini al dente just the way you like it. I am no addict but I have things hidden in my attic that would shock others. We strive so hard to look for that moment when the great God leans into our ears and whispers us the great secret. There is no secret. Sometimes instead of coffee, this is what I do: I sharpen a paint brush and leave myself in skidmarks across the page. That is it. Make your enemies and your alliances. For chrissake sake, open up what you think you know and dump it all right out on the table like emptying a handbag. Keep your head in a bag if you want courage. Keep it in a key spot, under a rock for safe-keeping, for when you need it. Really need it. Some believe courage is for any time but I don’t agree. I want you to know who I am and I want our love story to be filled with questions and color.