SEND ME FORGET ME NOTS~PATRICE RUSHEN ~ Fire Island Pines: Pulse of The Morning

My eyes hold their place amongst the wreckage of my face. I think, one more cocktail with this blue-eyed slab, paid for twice over, but never to be owned, leased but never mine for evermore, will not change the fact that no mere mortal will ever subdue my demoralized mornings spent between heaven and hell.  Here on Fire Island, ghosts lurk screw-faced under star-crossed pines howling without sound.

SWEAR TO G-D & HOPE TO DIE?

MR SINJI-GAN. … Sinji-Gan lost his entire family from the USA dropping of the atomic bomb very near a bridge at the center of Hiroshima. He was sick that entire week of the Walking Ants  from the false sunrise & great wind, so he was at his grandmother’s home recuperating. Her home was far outside the radius of the giant mushroom tem and its power to evaporate human souls en mass. Yet he remains a happy man.  He was so cute today; a little old man who does nothing but smile and laugh and love life. He is so cool. MR SINJI-GAN. His name is a MANTRA which may open the hearts of the most heartless among us.

TOAST THAT MONKEY ON YOUR BACK

A goodbye kiss is had to face sometimes. I lament what might have been although I know what is, just is. What can one do but shake it off, take a deep breath, be very nice to yourself by taking better care of you than ever before and let go. Just let go. It is my freedom time. It is your freedom time. I don’t know about you, but I’ve gained ten pounds in two weeks and I look like a rock star high on crank. Oopsadaisy, I meant, I look like a rock lobster high on … life? Yeah, sure, that’s the ticket, April Utley-Cannon may be my baby sister but she is a goddess who knows everything one needs to know .Unlike me, Mr. Know It All, who does in fact know most of it (the only one here with delusions of grandeur is your face in the mirror), to hell in a handbasket, xxxx ’em if they can’t take a joke,

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