N. said, "You are going to hell."
Then I lost my dog
and felt badly too.

Summer was coming like
the sweet upswing of a yo-yo.

The season began in tank tops and sandals and
it felt good.

N. laughed.
Like he was just joking
after saying, "You are going to hell."

I guess he meant that I can do anything.

I've reached that conclusion too.
In different ways.

You take a life - open it as a sandwich
and you pick off the cheese
because you do not like cheese.
But the fact that the cheese was there, that
somebody thought you might like cheese,
doesn't bother me.

Does it bother you?

There are issues I have
with summer: I sweat,
cigarettes don't taste good,
allergies flare up.
But on mornings when you
accidentally wake up early,
say by 8,
and there is no job, and there is
only a bike for transport -
and then the sweat and the sinus volcano becomes
fantastic.

And yeah, I could be going
to hell. But not quickly.
I just need to think about that more
and start wasting my time better.

--- Apr. 20, 1999