8:35 a.m. - 2004-09-24
postcard
This is a small bar in a small town, and the same crew of bloated mokes, shabby Magnums, and leathery old chainsmokin' haole broads gathers here every afternoon. Outside, heather-gray clouds will also be gathering. Darkening the Ko'olaus in anticipation of rain...dispensed twice daily in cool, medicinal, doses. I call a smog-desert home, and consider this rain a great luxury. Two blocks from here is the house where I live and work, and two blocks from there is the beach; a presence advertised by salt-bleached power-poles. It beckons and, whenever possible, I respond.
So different, this time back.
Me, I mean.
