Jim - Part 1
It was good to get away from the desert for awhile. Even if it was only in the imagination. The mushroom imagination made the dreamtime real he looked out over the lake.
Pretty brown. Ducks are quacking upside down. Looks like a dead fish under the clear water, partly nosed into the sand.
Looks like squashed little frog on concrete - turns out to be a chunk of bark.
Maybe the fish is just a rock.
It all looks like things dead.
The air is thick
Jim is there "I don't know why you're here why're you here don't you want to just go on muddling under your pine your ancient pine that has more wisdom than you'll ever have in a million years but it's so hard to get it out of that stick it has such a slow pace of living why its leaves are almost invisible they're so tiny and you can count 'em all right easy enough but it harbors all that wisdom and you can't get nothin' out of it"
Horse didn't want to think about the pine just now he was viewing things dead and the pine wasn't dead enough
Oh, the delusions. That he will put it all down someday, and it will have purged him, purified him.
He came here to 'dream', + he couldn't see anything - "I can't see anything I'm numb except to things I see dead but were never living - even dead things die for me, Jim"
Jim: "The lake has no action today. Yesterday's wind are gone - to where? who's getting it now?"
Girls girls, he sees a girl in a white t-shirt and tight blue jeans rollerskating across the causeway, down into Law Park, her hips rolling as she swings her legs smoothly. He sees breasts, breasts, breasts, always breasts and always covered and what a sight it would be, to see all those round breasts out in the sun. And ass - round round rumps below flaring feminine hips, under tight jeans, rolling on down the walk. And never any consolation for him. "It would be a great consolation to me, Jim."
"But none of them see that. They all think I'm untouched but I am I see it all and I want it all I want to roll their bodies in my hands like packing a joint I want to look just look sometimes but they are all hidden and protective protective of what? of my eyes? what's that? I could just look I'd look and look and look and it wouldn't hurt them any they'd just put their clothes back on when I was done and they could go away I wouldn't even tell anybody I would just bless them for having such gifts and letting me enjoy the sight I would bless them, by God, and they would be blessed instead of penting up all those roundnesses and softnesses and natural perfumes to fester inside all that cloth I could sing great poems about their skins great musics about their lines great novels about the travels of a single gleam of sweat from neck to thigh and what it's seen and felt and sniffed along the way Jim do I ask too much do I want too much do I long for only impossibilities Ah Jim
"Broke my own rules, Made my own chains."
But Jim was gone now and here was the Hero again he stood on the ridge on the great Terminal Moraine his beard flashing in the wind his cigaret-gravelled voice flapping out unhearable maxims about ordinary people sucked into the quicksand of life all of life a quicksand and you just get sucked in again and again but grab the nearest stick to haul yourself out and go on again to get sucked in again and haul yourself out and where are the chains in this? why they're all around and how can you tell which you have made yourself they all look alike so why are you tellin me I can break my chains when I cant tell which the fuck ones are mine you gibbering hero with ten thousand faces I'm Casey an I'm on my last ride cause I've given up all the things that gave me great peaceable pleasures no I've not given them up I've given up on trying to ever keep any of them they always go away you see I just get used to them used to having them in great unspeakable comfort and joy and happiness and they up an walk away without a word as to how I may follow or keep them so where in all this is my chain hero? show it to me an I'll take it up I will love it till I die (an maybe soon) I will bless it in all of God's kingdoms and shout its praises in all the churches for this is the one thing that will not leave me my chain!
- Lone Coyote Calls