Hierophany

We are so accomplished, us
a student and a carpenter...

open the fridge & get a red bull
let it burn itself out
I got Budweiser and Guinness,
a beer for each noise in the background.
Roll that beautiful bean footage, mon frer
roll me a steak roll me a boat
let's go fishing, clean 'em ourselves
half a day is $40

cigars in the car, brownies
hot the way down
but contra spent 'fore we're back
we drink teacher's and what do we learn?
what does the surf tell us?
what the sand?
run on it barefoot, pre-concrete
it gives it takes
roll the tides, friend
we can't push 'em back,
we won't try

in that way the sea is magic;

we aren't chuck norris
a pillow here is only sand and water
stop to look at what is left:
what way have the shells been charmed?
and by whom?

•••

It's very mel tormé out tonight.
Warmer than it should be this time of year
I said I wish we could see the stars
you said I can't even say that
we're as far south as mexico but
it's almost arkansas:
the locals say Port A

We'll drink hot lolitas tonight
cayenne at the margins
and watch pelicans dive
for food we'll never see.

•••

We made art, didn't we?
Something, where, if I died tomorrow—

no one remembers
what your office was like,
unless really cluttered,
or really clean.

Drink up, boy,
they'll come over that ridge
within the hour, and then—
shit, you've been through basic
what am I talking about?
The whiskey gives you courage.
But neither of us there,
out there in the sand
where booze is not allowed
where we'd be fighting
fighting for the right

•••

Let's go back to the beach.
It's warmer there, or feels it anyway.
There's moisture in the air.
See that hotel?
We'll walk until even with it.
How many P-funks left?
How many of the others?
You're in a mood for a splash?
Water's that way.
He's in town for one night only, folks.

You've call me Joe how many times?
The sprint, sure it was my idea,
but it made me nauseous.
Funny, no spins until morning.
But didn't our asses get up early?
Newton said "inertia."
I said I was a wishin and a hurtin.
Things in motion stay in motion,
where we were for awhile,
waves with sight of no shore,
no offshore platforms
just petrels and plankton.

Most people don't know
that at night this sand glows
sparking underfoot
like curads opened in the dark.
The beach, is a roadway.
Vehicle laws: apply.
People just drive on it
Alcohol not illegal
just can't have glass
hence the budweiser the guinness,
hence the nalgene.

There's people in that van up there.
It's a guy, he has no shirt on.
Maybe we'll see people doing it.
The woman has stepped outside now.
All she has is a very long t-shirt.
Either they just did it or they're about to.
Did you hear that?
It sounded like someone yelling.
A woman's voice against the surf.
Pretend I didn't hear what sounded like help.
The guy could have a gun, after all.
We now eclipse the sea
and she yells again!
It sounded like "heeeeeeeellp"
though the tone wasn' right.
If she were in trouble she'd be running,
a good twenty feet from the van.
You say she was calling
to someone we didn't see.

•••

When done we flick them in the sea.
An offering. Let her finish and bury it.
Or she can spit it back if
afraid of insects.
The butts we bury. Sure to come back.
I play like a boxer.
I backpedal, dance around, dance like
a plover sting like a ray.
Circle you like an opponent.

It comes back like dream-fragments
but it is facts, I think.
I could run now, I really could.
I find a pace that's as slow as a walk,
running in place, except moving.
Ten minutes is enough.

•••

It is pretty low tide, we think.
We cover once-wet sand.
The tide returns forlorn,
grabbing us ankle-deep.
On a long walk back,
we get deeper and deeper in.
At times up to mid-calf or even knee.
We've got our pants rolled up.
Now you are ready to jazzercise

I say Run without touching any white.
We do.
You just stepped in some!
No, no, that's not the point:
we don't monitor each other.
The idea
is the best workout possible.
There is our hotel, our light, our entrance.
Our shoes.
A couple blocks back on quiet streets
to holiday express.
You step on a cocklebur
before we finish the teacher's
and sit in the hot tub, waiting.

This entry posted by J Rand : 20:14

I admit it. I used to watch Walker, Texas Ranger.

This entry posted by J Rand : 20:33

12/18/03
TRAIN


[11:17]

And we're off and rolling. More comfy and roomy than I imagined. If it stays like this, voila. The train was supposed to leave at 10:30, though.

Some kids four seats up are making noise and coughing. An old man behind me is coaxing a lung forth from his esophagus. Everybody's coughing. Maybe we'll leave these lepers in Dallas. Who know's what other rip-rap we'll pick up there, though.

No, that's my Ignatius Reilly routine. Kids drie me nuts, though. Who's got the roofies?

[11:21]

Heading straight down MoPac (Loop 1) North. Ride is pretty smooth, a little rollicking. I feel like I'm about to lose a day going forward across the International Date Line. When I get to STL—the point of this whole endeavor—it'll already be tomorrow. Where will this day go? I hope I can sleep it all away. Dinner is at 5:30 pm. Something about it being by reservation.

Judging by cars driving by parallel (we're running about even), by Texas standards I'd say we're going 60/65. There's some MoPac congestion. Ahh...brought a green 3/4 inch binder with me—makes a nice lap writing surface but we're picking up speed and bouncing some now. Braker (Lane), Braker (Lane), oh-one-niner, do you read?

[11:25]

Going by some folks' backyards, blowin the horn. It's wake-up time. Imagine that. A lot of conform homes up here. Not much to speak about; now a little woodsier, slowing, smoothing out. Scrub forest. Brown, very brown. Dessication. Central TX is some 10 inches behind its normal rainfall amount for the year. Burn advisories in some areas. What's this? Coal looks like. Oh yeah. Black coal, right by the railroad. Loaded up. Piles of it. We're in quarry land, methinks. Very open. Flat. An old crappy fireworks stand. An old man in boots, jeans, flannel shirt just passed by. The train whistle blows.

A crane. Highway construction. Bouncier again. Mike Robinson for County Commissioner, District 1. Christmas lights hanging like icicles from a green wood house. A fat kid shuffling back from the dining car. The train whistle blows.

A cell phone. From a pocket, then unleashed and louder. The woman in front of me. Talking soft, now louder. A significant other. Phone flipped back to inert. She is resting. Round Rock Super Storage. Bud Light. Citgo. Capitol Bearings. Slowing now, quite slow. Don't believe we stop here. In Austin station clerk said, "If you don't have a ticket, you don't get on board. Next stop is in Taylor, TX and it wil cost you $50 to get back to your car." Putzing along. Fire station truck & camper route. The train whistle blows.

Under a road bridge. Warehouse metal plywood flatbed trailer conveniently positioned along railroad. It's how people used to move things. A cell phone in the distant confines of a passenger's pocket...ballfields, dirt looks good and infield grass is somewhat green. I want to say "Move, move let's get this rig going." I guess this is normal, I hope it is. One small pitiful dried up town at a time... A truck hauling an orange Johnny on the Spot a church steeple Round Rock Church of Christ Davey Plumbing sand gravel Mailboxes lined up by the side of the road Dell Diamond Capital Excavation flatbed hauling crushed rock the train whistle blows

Can't outlaw those things Love the Sound Love It... Like a Train in the Distance, Everybody knows it's true Paul Simon. Paul Simon former senator died recently. Classmate Richard Raymond, Dem. stat rep worked for him. Raymond a neat guy. Doesn't drink, not even coffee. 42 years old. Affable. Now some farm fields. Sky is absolutely clear. People making sporadic forays to dining car. I want to hold out. Regions Bank American & TX flags. A little rocky (as far as writing goes...) a water tower Taylor 7 miles away says a green sign with white lettering. Quite tired Hutto Covert Ford Three Hours of Sleep was it for me last night Time for grog Stage Call Corporation Passenger at 2 o'clock rustling through his duffle. He has a book about Van Gogh. Could be prints. Frame switch? says the sign. TX 3349. Braking? The train whistle blows...

Someone asking someone about going to Virginia for Christmas. Mm-hm, to see my husband's family. That's a haul. Maybe catching a Chicago to D.C. express? Quite slow now. Must be a brake it's like something clutches at our momentum for a second though we continue ahead. The VA X-Mas convo couple...oh yeah (talk louder please) something about (blank) all the way to DC and then in coach after that... Same here says the stentorian.

[11:59]
[13:52]

Stops made at Taylor (one person), then Temple (plenty of people & resignation to someone filling the empty companion seat beside me—didn't happen). Just passed through McGregor, which could have been a stop, but no one was there. Took a slight nap. Lots of noise. People trafficking up to the café car, where there's a screeening of "Freaky Friday." Lots of kids on the train. Guy w/ Van Gogh book at my 2 o'clock single-handedly my attempt to rest by exploring-to-hell a bottomless bag of Lay's potato chips. Does anything frustrate otherwise relative silence like that plastic packaging used to keep Lay's potato chips greasy? I had an Odwalla bar, which comes in similar packaging. I made perhaps 1/75 of the noise. Took a bathroom break. Been looking out the window: cows, fences, dogs. They all look at the train, recognize it; I know it's part of their routine; I know they enjoy it. The train whistle blows.

Trash lots of trash along the railroad. Law question: is this an easement we're traveling over or was it public land to begin with? Probably both. More cows. So placid, so austere. I can see why they might be sacred. That said, I'm craving a steak. Been months since I had one. Moving slow. The big stop is gonna be Dallas/Ft. Worth. Turn-over or filling up? Or both? "Your immediate area is your home," says the conductor. "If you go out of your immediate area, put your shoes on. The Café Car is in service." The dining car is not operational until we're passed Dallas, due to budgetary restraints. Scrub-land. Leave-less trees. Reduced speed ahead. A mossy brook. What about Brook? Has she gotten my B-day card to her? I left it in her trunk where I hoped she would happen upon it. A spelling lesson for one of the children up front. Moving slow. Dairy Queen, steak fingers, $2.99. This just in: Lung trying to escape from older passenger just behind me. Who had two empty Budweisers on his tray table. Train was predicted to be an hour late to Dallas. The train whistle blows.

Silos. BNSF437137. Burlington Northern Sante Fe Railway. Stopping cars crossing streets. Our train is the #22, the Texas Eagle. Headin to Chicago. Cracked open Portnoy's Complaint. It is not what I anticipated it would be, but the topic is somewhat apropos. The section called "Whacking Off" brought tears to my eyes; I actually had to close it a bit because I didn't want to get hysterical w/ laughter. The detail about taking two socks to bed was too much!

[14:08]
[15:11]

Ladies & gentleman, Cleburne, TX. The train whistles blows.

Guy behind me opened a third beer and has a fourth in tow. I saw him come back with them from the café car. Stopped in Cleburne. Cleburne the constitutional law case is a rare example of a state/local ordinance regulating a non-protected group (retarded citizens) being declared unconstitutional by the Supreme Court under rational basis review. The Court will uphold the regulation as long as those authoring it can provide a rational/reasonable basis for enacting the law. This law sought to keep retarded citizens' homes from being built in the city/county. There was, according to the Court, no rational basis for its existence. I don't know for sure that it refers to Cleburne, TX but I wouldn't doubt it.

[16:00]
Ft. Worth, or Fort Worth, folks. A few skyscrapers here. Plenty of people de-training here. Train will be stopped for 15 minutes. Headache setting in. Probably due to not enough food (though I just ate a peanut toffee buzz CLIF bar), not enough water (should have brought my Nalgene—damn!), no caffeine to speak of today (besides that from the green tea extract in the CLIF bar), and the same position my body & muscles have been contorted into fpr five hours. The water spout here dribbles out a few molecules at a time and on top of that, Spaz-o-John fumbled with the provided child-sized cup and spilled it on the floor. Had to go down to the bathroom and get some paper towels. All this while wearing the grey flatcap, though un-snapped so I look like a Civil War Yankee (at least I'm hoping that was the Yanks and not the Confeds, though it could be either). Some people are getting out to stretch but I'm not. Let's get this freight train movin. Put the coffee on and send some back to me. Give me the key to the sleeper, too; I need a nap.
[16:03]

[17:25]
Dallas, TX.

Dinner: 6:30 or 20:00. I reserved 20:00 for 1. The choices:
+ 10 oz NY strip steak
+ filet catfish
+ chicken cordon bleu
+ braised beef
+ ... alfredo

[17:20]

Mineola, TX. From a few seats up front an annoying child machine voice spelling game. Too loud not to be rude...ridiculous.

{Got into St. Louis at 8:25 that next morning... Only fifteen minutes late after being an hour late at the beginning.}

This entry posted by J Rand : 22:26

I was washing my hands
in the john
When someone came over
the bathroom speaker—
there was a brief pause...
before she spoke,
during which I thought:
Is the building going to blow right up?
In a fire? Or a terrorist's attack?
Anything to get out of work early—
surely they wouldn't
dock that from my pay.

8/3/2004

This entry posted by J Rand : 16:50

I have this dream that if I only
drink enough coffee
some switch in me will flicker to the on position
my eyes will open, my tie will straighten—
and maybe my allergies will go away—
But coffee can't do that
can't make time go no faster than it's already goin'
can't make morning into noon then afternoon
I can drink cup after cup, espresso shots all around
But come out in the same spot as I'm in right now.

This entry posted by J Rand : 16:45

"I hear you've got a new girlfriend."

"I do."

"Well who is she, what's she like?"

"Oh, she's one of those people who has really long hair—like down to her butt. I mean, she's attractive...but all that hair. What are you supposed to do with it? I feel like she expects me to do something with it—to, like, braid it. When we watch TV we snuggle or whatever, but all I can think about is all that hair, sitting there in her lap, like an undiapered baby."

This entry posted by J Rand : 16:38

I like bread and butter
I like toast and tea
the only thing
that I really don't like
is the news on cable TV

or the saucy version:

I like coke w/ Captain's
I like coke w/ V
The only thing
that I really don't like
Is the news on cable TV

This entry posted by J Rand : 14:05

...the kind of person who
enjoys, in retrospect, things he
does not enjoy whilst doing them
who, in present, enjoys doing the things
he knows he will, in retrospect, regret

rather, who, in the present
enjoys doing things that,
in retrospect, he knows
he will enjoy, as well

who does things in the present
because he knows
he will enjoy them in retrospect

who cannot help but do a thing
in the present though he knows
he will regret it later.

12/28/2003

This entry posted by J Rand : 14:00

Wake up motherfuckers
it's a little loud here.

And let that be
a lesson to ya:
don't drink no coffee
if ya wanna sleep by nine.

Yeah, it's just no good
to talk inside
on your cellphone anymore.

Ya gotta talk outside
and drive an F-150.
And squeel your tires, too, dammit.

Cause there's nothing
quite like Texas on a Saturday night.

***

I've accidentally raked
a zit on my cheek
and there's blood on my hands.

Il bastardo, il bastardo
sangiovese di toscana.

Wake my friend, wake.

This is middle America,
anywhere is middle America.

And if we've
still got power
we'll do power hour
whether that be Il Bastardo
or Miller Lite
America, America
Il Bastardo, Il Bastardo
son of England,
mother of Earth
the two of whom
never made it to chapel.

Wake my friend, wake,

***

Pay those income taxes
or not
whether it be legal
or not
read the New York Times
or the Wall Street Journal
watch C-SPAN
or Bill O'Reilly.
Pack up and move
get a U-Haul
AC or no AC
you're gonna do it
either way
because you are America, America
Il Bastardo, Il Bastardo.

Take another sip, you won't feel it
feel it in the morning
you won't comb the farmer's market
you won't run along the river
you won't feed the corner bake-ry

You'll just snooze
and snooze
and snooze
watch a little baseball
diddle yourself
and nap.
You'll just put another
on the books.

my how time is
flying by
my how time is
flying by

Another Ziegen Bock,
mon frer,
another Ziegen Bock,
and you know you
can only
get it here in Texas.
All others be damned.
George has
had his Ziegen Bock
At least he's
had his chance
ah, simple yet
refreshing head
for the Hill Country.

Do another crossword, John,
do another Ray
up John
down Ray
how about seven across?

***

It's gotta come
it's gotta
come
it's gotta
roll
it's gotta
grip you
out of your sleep
it's just gotta come
until then
we've waited

This entry posted by J Rand : 13:11

Remember
driving that
night? On, on.
It was
it.

Rain and torn
up Oklahoma
highway to show
red Oklahoma
clay.

On and on
it was
through Dallas-
Ft. Worth.
Getting late with
the BBC.

Morning IHOP
burrito w/ picante
More rain, rainbows
on and on.

8/13/2003

This entry posted by J Rand : 13:10

Standing, leaning along curving stone wall out in Front of Law School. Had lunch: pepercorn turkey on whole wheat, Grey Poupon, American cheese single; gala apple from Washington; and a choclate peanut butter Odwalla Bar. It's not cold out here, a bit cool maybe. My hands are dry and crackling around the knuckles.

I am standing up which is about the only thing I can do to stay awake. My Torts class is at 12:37, which is coming up shortly. After that, contracts. Then I get on the Bus (#22) and go home. It's sunny, which my gray coat soaks up rather well.

Someone downwind has lit a cigarette, which makes me think about having one. Maybe when I get home. That could keep me awake, too. Gotta roll.

Stay whole, not an ass-hole, don't cajole, play your role, & Vote for Dole.

(1/28/2004)

This entry posted by J Rand : 22:37

I am in the closet once again. Light comes in under the door. The doorknob, I fear, will be hot if I touch it.

Simone and Lee are outside talking—they've been talking out there for a really long time. My work performance. Do they suspect anything? There's a telephone jack in here for some reason. The connection is slow but I can get pictures. Old Mac laptop.

Someone steps in front of the door; he/she blocks part of the light coming in. The door opens.

"What are you doing?" asks Simone.

"Ah—research. Firing up the old Mac. You know. Connection's slow. Is the network down or something?"

She snorts.

"No one does research on Apples."

I consider for a moment my response. I am not looking at her chest again though I'm afraid she might be sensing I am. Please forgive me. The laptop is closed by now of course; I closed it as the doorknob was turning...slowly... .

"Was that doorknob hot?"

She ignores me. "Why aren't you at your desk? I've been forwarding calls to you. They've probably gone to your voice mail by now. What are you doing? There's not even a light on in here."

"I've been working."

Working hard. Oh, that toenail polish. My friends do handsprings. Does she wear perfume? I've never gotten that close. Married anyway. My phone rings. I hold up my finger signaling one moment. Thumb to middle finger.

"I have to take this right now, but look—"

I start to hold up a pad of paper with names and numbers on it.
She starts to close the door; the phone is still ringing; the door is closing...

"Do your feet hang off the end of the bed when you sleep?"

The door is closed by now. I hold the phone up to my ear and mouth.

"Jefferson University—School of Science—This is Jack—how can I help you?"

"Yeah, what's that study you've got going on?"

The voice sounded...familiar.

"You mean the Ecstasy study?"

"Yes! What's that all about?"

It was Gareth. The voice was Gareth's–I knew it.

"Ahh... It's two interviews, about one week a part, lasting two to two and a half hours each... Gareth?"

It had been almost six months since we had spoken.

"Gareth, dude? Gareth who? Is this the study?"

"You're not Gareth?"

"Do I have to give you my name?"

"You don't have to give me your full name. I don't need that until I see if you're eligible for the interview. You're not Gareth though?"

"You said I didn't have to give you my name."

"I said you didn't have to give me your full name. But I need your first name."

There wasn't any answer but the person hadn't hung up either.

"Gareth? Gareth, I know it's you...."


© Winter 2003

This entry posted by J Rand : 12:35

If there were no corruption, people wouldn't care so much about getting their own piece. Corruption is essential to a healthy capitalist society.

This entry posted by J Rand : 16:51

Why is it that, when you're about to die, you have a dream-like experience? And when you are dreaming, and about to die, you wake up?

This entry posted by J Rand : 16:32

I got seven calls that day. Brook, 12:15 am. Dad at 8:57 am, which woke me up.

"The terrorists are at work," he said. "You better take a look. It's pretty bad."

He was stifling tears, sobs.

Ray from work at 12:21p. Then again at 12:24p. He came over and we hit Shayne and talked about Afghanistan for the first time ever.

Brook called at 7:01p. Mom called at 8:22p. Brook called again at 10:31p.

Indeed, a call at 8:57a from Dad was unusual.

This entry posted by J Rand : 11:27

If I can't achieve urbanity without money then fuck-it.

This entry posted by J Rand : 11:18

I am AM in the PM. A bumper sticker.

Sitting in car. It takes everything I've got, just to write a bit. Adam's mix CD is playing.

Had a cigarette not so long. Bought a pack at that little in & out shop on the loop.

Asked for a hard pack of camel lights. Guy working there grabbed them and a stack of comics fell to the ground.

Nothing was said.

It took me a little while to find my money—in the last pocket.

He changed my ten. And went back to what he was doing.

"Was there a receipt with that actually?"

"Did you want one actually?"

"If I could," I said.

Was it something I said.

•••

Man sitting w/ busted up old business shoes and a wine box in his hands. On the way back the guy with the guitar had begun to play.

To, I said no he said as we made eye contact.

"What's up?"

"How's it going?" I said.

"It's going," he said.

Fro, I could've sat down and listened to him begin to play.

12:01-12:12, 4/4/2002

This entry posted by J Rand : 11:01

Not to justify my ends, but to end my justification.

This entry posted by J Rand : 10:59

Time's the most
valuable thing
you've got.

And when you give
it to people?
They're happy.

Even if you sit there
staring at the wall.
That's why I envy
conversationalists.

They've got
everything I want.

This entry posted by J Rand : 10:53