It starts as sound. These moments go back to Belgium and all the power I had driving down the road in between trees and on the wrong side of the street ever ramping up
Playing, Gavin in my thoughts, myself pushing and pushing and pushing ships into the ocean
I would not die, wake up and run in the woods until I couldn’t run anymore…. Sweating out all the toxins from the night before. It just seemed like it could go for ever… hey there are no limits and I am here to go past them, flips on the trampoline high above the fireplace and computers and flower pots
Flip, flip, flip out of control
Here is what happened. Andy my wife left, went off to school and I continued driving on the wrong side of the road, I would be like, “hey road, where do you want me” and just do the opposite, whole entire tracts of Europe suffered under my oppression of nothingness. Cities and flowers never wilted or batted an eye at my anarchy. This never stopped me. Andy left and made love to a large dark man that I found out about later left with Gavin in my arms. My son and I went on a boat trip with my father and Chris and Chris was so fucking into The Strokes… so enter my father crashing his boat into docks the dingy falling into the sea, the port authority alerted, my sister Laura at the edge screaming with a child on hip.
Here is what happened next
We went to frank Jensen’s got drunk and combed our hair. Dead Andy Provchy called us up in the morning and told us we did the right thing, my father called us up in the morning and told us to get ready. We took a boat of some sorts commandeered by dead Andy Provchy driving us all past semi bald Spiden and towards an opulent future.
Upon arrival it was of the utmost importance to gather as many oysters as possible. Things were whole again, and we were to pretend that nothing ever happened. Chris, Gavin and I motored over to the Stuart island dock and in our Friday harbor drug store crocks and proceeded to plunder as may oysters as we could off of the shoreline, there are pictures of us doing so, this really happened. Later back at the cabin we cooked them up,, Chris in his wrldrmine shirt and Gavin draped in an old knitted quilt of sorts.
I could never handle my father drunk but my father could handle the whole world so…
The following morning we set sail, across the bay to Canada, Bedwell harbor. The gate way to the the Gulf islands.
My father ordered a heifewiesen