987

i want to put ice on wounds when i see mail; my principal gets lonely. around this time, last year, i was in the mountains, i didn’t tell. i was with rich.  i met him while writing a review about the zen of motorcycle….you know. anyway, he liked it.  we started talking, he invited me.  i didn’t know, at first, because…well i don’t know where i was/what place.  but i was for anything- at least curious.

i didn’t tell. i flew on a seafarer. it’s the kind that looks like it’s going to surf, but then it skates on water. at night, rich showed me where he got his coffee, then to a likeable graveyard. that was fun, we kissed by a fire pit, outside, at ann’s.  the next, we had dinner,  i sat by ken.  he was just…mmm magnifying, in three/four ways. it’s- i can’t remember what he said.  he just knew stuff-  you know.  he was a techie, for the Stones- maybe it was for the magazine, maybe it was for the band. we got to talking; he just had all these stories…

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