The answer is entropy—how smell works—
little bits of everything—always spinning
off from where they were—flying off at random
into the world—which is to say into air.

There are other ways of solid to gas—
they’re substance specific, like iodine,
or dry ice—how I felt when I saw you—
straight to a new state without passing
through expected ones—as though enough
of me left at the moment you appeared that
I could never be whole without you—apply
heat—I turn straight into ether.

~ Jason Schneiderman

"Sunday, I am eating a
grapefruit, church is over at the Russian
Orthadox to the
west.

she is dark
of Eastern descent,
large brown eyes look up from the Bible
then down. a small red and black
Bible, and as she reads
her legs keep moving, moving,
she is doing a slow rythmic dance
reading the Bible. . .

long gold earrings;
2 gold bracelets on each arm,
and it's a mini-suit, I suppose,
the cloth hugs her body,
the lightest of tans is that cloth,
she twists this way and that,
long yellow legs warm in the sun. . .

there is no escaping her being
there is no desire to. . .

my radio is playing symphonic music
that she cannot hear
but her movements coincide exactly
to the rythms of the
symphony. . .

she is dark, she is dark
she is reading about God.
I am God."

- Charles Bukowksi

think the world will end eventually. think it will be a day similar to this monday. black sun. hot dry whitened clouds. soft wet air which reminds me kindly of a lady's kiss. broken glass on the stairway. heaven smells like bacon today. and the scent of brute electric ozone just won't go away.

but anyway, summer has come back, skin turns into chocolate-honey coloured silk. fierce thunderstorms come upon my hometown from time to time. not to measure the time. nor to count the words. nor to enjoy a pizza. but to exercise. to steel yourself from the tiniest muscle to your mind.

rain that pours...