Pan and Titania come out of the woods.
SUNDAY 10th JUNE.
we sing, in the flat, sweet home and uma nota so, see, he does the study with the guitar because he wants to be good better than that best and i dont even have my saxophone with me.
i have asked the guys going to the shop if they will pick up some sangria for me, but it feels tacky, as if i should grow up, get some good red wine, but i ve grown up over and over again, in the presence of a different witness each time, who is counting, i lost the space between 6 and 10, like a child about to throw a ball –
i said i was thinking of leaving this morning, i teared a little on the phone, now i m waiting for G to arrive from Loondon, to start our street theatre, maybe this is why i ve had the blues lately, because he is not around, it is complicated, do i need to go to a cave and think about that ?
lazy sunday, everyone in the flat claims a spot, the neighbour with the power tools driving us mad, ruining everything, dya think he heard me, carrot graters and cheese peelers –
MONDAY 11th JUNE:
i practiced guitar quietly all evening yesterday while the others were at the shop, see, all i need is a guitar and a window to sing out of – i examine Claira s crochet technique, we had a nice meal of pasta salad together, i drank a whole bottle of sangria and began to feel a bit stoned, we were going to watch a movie but end up watching Robot Chicken – i smoked the butts out of the ashtrays –
swimming in olive oil, yeah, that would be fun – maybe i ll sleep on the beach tonight – examine myself in the mirror – calligraphy backpieces and the pillow book – my pillow book – as if some day i could be a cultured courtesan –
THEN THE RAIN just after Oz has gotten up and life has started moving out – but its only dark clouds moving overhead – 4 non blondes – postmen – post men – there is no structure to this architecture – Da didnt get the job, where is Pessoa when you need him, we missed a gypsy ska concert the night before, cows milk is for baby cows anyway, but cheese tastes damn fine – damn fine, like Argenta, sheesh, get a grip girl – from our window we can see one house with a yard that spews cats and kittens onto the surrounding rooftops – they jump onto and walk along the broken glass ridges –
one day, the dehydratee says, my perspective will change and the past year will seem like a mirage –
TUESDAY 12th JUNE:
Pace, momentum. I spent hours typing up OD on Guilhermes laptop. Tick. Things done, completed. Cooked soup for lunch for everyone, am annoyed i put in too much pasta and overcooked it, mental note, never cook pasta when Italians are present.
Yesterday – went for a meet with Nelo, first time, since picking the bikes up from his place, we went for a walk and it was tender, a trundle to the side of the waves to listen, he asks because he wants to know if i am ok, this is a breakthrough, that people honestly care, and he places no ultimatum but heads off to play football and i go in search of dinner, a tin of peas, garlic and a salty stick, dinner on a bench on the ribeira, wonderview of the rippled river reflections, then off to Lidl to find what i can in the bins for the evening, windtastic along the coast, worst smell ever, fruit and veg, a perfect avocado, but i throw the tomatoes back to the bin for biohazard fears, off to Bar Mirita, everyone is pissed in the Praça, interesting conversations, bambulay and Portuguese history, Om sleeps on a step, its a tug of war across the city to try and get him home, dont sleep here, they ll steal your shoes, dont sleep here, the binmen will wake you up in two hours, we get to Alegria and he passes out on the bleeding doorstep and theres no moving him, mangled mango, mangled bags, things going wrong, messy, cant believe my new bicycle bag broke, where did this fecking part come from (where a heart should have been) and then voices in the hallway as we sleep, bicicleta bicicleta bicicleta fuuuuck the police, they have Om by the shoulder, he had been at our bikes and someone thought he was trying to steal them, he is too drunk to explain otherwise –
i try to raise the topic of midsummer, i am developing my guerilla gardening plan to put sunflowers in the fortifications, the fest of Sao Joao is kicking off – pizza night tonight – the curse of cutlery –
poking eyes out of sockets, skull and crossbone style, the fountain outside Roma where they pump wine instead of water in November- Marino, I think? bomb scares in Porto, teflon Taoiseach –
from First Breath to Last Breath –