Angel by Ray Bremser

Author:Ray Bremser [Bremser, Ray]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tompkins Square Press
Published: 2014-11-30T16:00:00+00:00

thru my rear-view mirror.

. . . what I really want is a shack in a wood to shack-up me & Angel in for a couple of marijuana eternities & a dozen or so sides what do swing & make it & let the good bop in from out in the stars ... let in the love & beauty & poetry of life . . .

(things we did when we married ... a total turn on, each the other’s both finding out ... we had the secret of living together . . . still have it, we don’t lose it, it’s grown along with us & that’s the secret itself! an infant when we started ... 2 infants joined at the head & hips (Abe screwed so much one afternoon, to hear him tell it, his hips hurt!) my hips & Angel’s hips . . . everywhere we’re conjoined & let no man split apart this that is & cannot help but be . . . fantastical rapports! the ticking of our time’s rapport . . . she feels me hurt her 70 miles away . . . what I’m doing to hurt her I don’t know but I’m sure I’m doing it ... as soon as I actually discover it I’ll stop, rest assured . . . I don’t want to hurt Angel . . .)

but I’m still writing this, aint I? & it’s a form of (not necessarily hurting her since I’m writing with no such purpose) her getting hurt . . . hmm . . that’s actually it, Angel . . . I’m not hurting you, you’re getting hurt . . . (questions of the head & heart again?) life is a well chosen & voluntary illusion ... I pick mine, you pick yours . . . some of mine hurts you . . . some of yours hurts me; too . . . we’re pushing each other closer to the cliff ... or getting pushed closer by our each self!

we’ll both come to the edge together, of that I am sure . . . it’s not even a question of who gets hurt to the weakest ground first ... if it’s me, when I fall, I’ll pull you over with me ... if it’s you, no difference ... I’d like to fall 500 thousand yards with you straight down to our end, making it & mugging & high on every damn drug possible plus the imponderably great downward mad-breathlessness of the fall itself ... & John Coltrane on the top of that fantastic cliff in his most possessed state, roaring ... the drum & idiom kick, actual idiom kicks kicking & whacking as strong as upsoar looking as Jacob’s ladder stoned on certain antisocial demons while we wheeeee die as beautiful as we lived ... & will live . . .

(. . . boy! these bromides!) must get some outside . . . a great high June 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, & 26 . . .

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