Meli Kalikamaka
Merry Christmas

Mikey gazes out the trolley window while I scribble in the notebook I probably won't type until tomorrow when you can read it then.  It is raining and we are on the way to my parents' for evening dinner etcet.  Of course his mom will be there....

I can see he's worried about the war.  His whole life he can never forget that an earlier version of our capital empire killed his father, who, I must honestly tell you, was proud to serve.  Some things are almost natural.  But they still hurt like hell.  ESPECIALLY on a day like today, when his father should take a place in the family reality, alive, not vanished in a ball of fire thirty-two years ago over Hanoi...

He looks over at me.  I knew his father when I was a kid.  There is a resemblance, but he still looks more like me.  My younger, identical cousin.  Yep.  The things we write for art eh.

"Dano, you know there is just a chance that this damn Iraq thing Will Turn Out OK... if...." and he looks out the window.

If they don't blow it, you mean.

Yes.  You read my mind.

He says it in past tense but reading it on the page you could also think it present reading.  Like that.  Little twists @ grammar are nothing original with me, Ms. Gertrude Stein knew the style much better and original than we do, if you're interested in.  All the great writers who lived before us (and all the bla bla bla babel jingle jingo copy advertising preverts who publish every day on TV and newspaper etcet all the working writers who mass society every day) give us Christmas presents of meaning and language every time I open my eyes.  If I can write it is thanks to all the ones great and mediocre who have gone before me I read them yes.

The trolley is 2 for 1 "friends ride free" today Xmas day speaking of copy someone wrote and we read and so share a ticket between us yes.  It will be completely free in the night of New Year's Eve yes.

"Daniel?"

Eh?

You think anyone will even bother to check tickets today?

Fireworks went off all night last night while Mike and I sat around before going to mass and midnight after dropping by to visit Nina M.  There is a woman with a fantastic story to tell.  Maybe we can convince her to put some of it into our escritores pages here, but....

So many plans and so little time to write and so little time to read

*sigh*

So many so many so many FIRECRACKERS AND SKYROCKETS were going off last night that I let the dogs come in for a while, much to Mike's approval who has no dogs at his place and is a little jealous of my friends but they love him too I think they know he likes them more than I do.  But I let them in last night and Tina hid under the table -- she's the one who gets upset by all the explosions... last year when I was gone over Christmas she actually broke one of my windows trying to get in and my landlord the usual cheap sonofabitch CODO still hasn't replaced it but that don't stop him for bitching all the time anyway about wasting so much energy SO FIX THE DAMN WINDOW you payaso cacique.

I already told you I won't tell you his name Ramón Huerta rearrange the letters and it spells

Oh shut up Daniel you will never dare print what you scribble in the rattling trolley and no one can read your handwriting anyway do you always talk to yourself on paper in second person, oh yes, and third person, too.

"Daniel?"

"Yeah?"

--You writing about the fireworks...?

Oh yes.

Not enough, I'll bet, to let anyone understand how incredible it really was... How they went on and on sometimes more than one every split second pop bang whiz Boom BANG bangity Bang BANG sssssssPow ssssssssssssssssssPOOM!

Heh.  And then the church bells ringing and clanging away bong bong bong bong bong bong bong bong bong bong bong bong bong bong bong bong bong bong bong bong bong bong bong bong bong bong bong bong

...last night was very pleasant, actually, once the dogs settled down to rest on the floor and Mikey and I sat around drawing lines on drafts for our January project of 12 postcard poems (still under construction, by the by but there it is as is so far)....

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