Saw Kathy. Talked to her like I was a normal person. Just two normals conversing. In Jamaica there is a tour on an old ship with an interior that looks like a bar. All dark wood and tables. No no don’t go to doctors cave beach it is not good there. we pass by said beach I look down from an upper level of the sea.

Not gonna lie, I was very nervous about today. Had a hard time sleeping last night. Bill and Bob wanted to meet at Dunkin at 10 today. I hate having a timeline, deadline whatever. plus I knew that guy would be there, plus his woman probably and I really didn’t want to have any unpleasantness aka gut-wrenching humiliation. As it were.

The llamas head high up in the tree, attached by its neck at my parents house of course is it alive feed it. Give it some water. Good boy. It laps up the water then something happens and it turns into a cartoon with bulging eyes(before it had none, no eyes at all, but now it can see) we nurse it back to health in the scorched earth driveway where dreams go to die.

Krista runs off with Nate to go to the many beaches. I am furious. I have to stay back for an appointment. (Gerrit is here in Provincetown) I’m with a couple in a back room where she sings and he plays. It is a soundcheck. Oh. They’re the main act. The sky turns black. It is summer in Provincetown and it starts snowing.

The car is not going to explode in a fireball. Cody is there. he looks stunned. Life is beautiful he says. Even though he’s going through it. I wait for Brian who isn’t there. I look up. He is there. scavenging the snack table. his back turned in a mood worse than usual his baggy shirt shows a small white patch of belly.

I walk in the room and Brian’s there, sitting in a chair looking at me. The Christmas lights overhead the fluorescents don’t always work we got these Edison bulb things I am so happy to see him but should I look, I mean is he crazy like dangerous crazy? Or is my looking at him somehow insulting? All I know is he laser-visions me his eyebrows and eyelashes glowing orange.

I work in the hospital. So does Phil. I stand in a glass walled corridor. Phil is in the parallel glass walled corridor. Suddenly he rushes this guy. I watch from a distance, horrified as he beats the living shit out of the poor man. There is nothing I can do. (I go on a path with my bike that slopes up dramatically. I crest the hill and the city spreads beneath me: the light of a million stars).

In my apartment there is a room which has no wall. It opens onto an amphitheater with a couch and throngs of people who crash there. it is chaos. All my things are in a bag. How can I smoke here? It is not allowed. I go to the other room. There is an unfinished pine desk. Oh ok. I light my cigarette and place it, burning, onto a groove in the wood.

On the beach in Jamaica in the olden days. (we live here) Oh no no no the storm. Three tornadoes touch down in the ocean Huge waves get in get in! we scramble for shelter I slam the shed door a giant wave hits us but the wall holds. Out on the boardwalk a boy runs past and dives into the still-roiling sea, his feet crossed at the ankles.

In the crushing heat: Bill, lying down in a corner under the tent. (a woman and her kids play kickball in the driveway). Bill. You need to get home. he peels himself off the garage wall. Gets in the car. I drive blindly through the tenement hallway. At the very end it is light. A little girl unlocks her apartment door.

I was sitting there waiting for Brian to come in. huh. Must’ve missed him. Oh. Here he is. He walks behind me to get to the coffee. Cookies. Hi Brian Natalie says. He waves, a quick, tiny gesture. crushing the heel of one sneaker, he goes and sits down at the back table. looking to the side, having a discussion with himself, brow furrowed.

Rain today. All day. At the meeting Brian at the back table. talking quietly to himself. Looking pissed. Blue eyes and crazy red hair all askew, he hitches up his sagging pants, heavy from the soaking rain. His black jacket heavy with rain. Layal next to me, leg jiggling. We all talk. The children in the dream. Their tiny smudge fingerprints all over the bathroom mirrors that I have to clean.

Huge cornfield across from her house the dream where I can’t get out of Chinatown that is the university. there are plazas leading to other plazas. Alleys with decayed sides. Mega apartments rise to the clouds.  still another plaza. A steep polished marble staircase with a tubular railing that I take with me as I step in chopines and nothing else down the gleaming stairs (it’s not easy).

Fat boy got in the car. His breath could knock you over. I cranked the ac. Running down the steps to set up the meeting he is so unhealthy. Phil gave me a card to sign for johnny b. so. He’s with Rachel, they have his and hers version of the same glasses. Vic’s bitching nonstop. His legs are decaying. It was quite a deal. Marks got a box on his heart and Todd makes jokes that I can’t hear. Squiggles swim before my eyes pulling outta there. that’s enough.

Where is Tyler? He is gone. I wanna shake Cody by the shoulders: what did you do to him? At Walmart I ease into the parking spot. A big black truck next to me, a guy’s arm out the window with tattoo and curling cigarette. Sun blasting. “Hi Margaret.” “What? Holy shit, Tyler! How are you?” The halfway house is yanking his chain.

He is a delicate woodland creature. He must be treated with care. I call him the cookie monster. When he comes, if there’s a new bag of cookies, watch out. He’s really smart. He’s come a long way. We are packing it up. What do you want me to do with this coffee? Dump it. Ok. In the kitchen, I get the grounds thumped out into the trash can and who should come walking past the doorway but Brian.

Where I used to live is now a megacity on a mountain. Where are the houses? The streets? Now: this…slum. Where my old house was is now a multi-tiered flea market, black market: packed with stalls of misadventure. Trailers in stacks climb the mountain. The people look at me dully. What’s your problem? What are you even talking about? There is shopping.

A bright and happy Monday layal chairing and in walks brian, wearing a louche off the shoulder number that showcases an extreme sunburn. A slight smile as he sits down next to jaime (is it me?) Waits for a cigarette, she ignores him so he gets up and walks out. Maddie has dragon lady green nails. They look good. Wonder where crazy john is and then he shows up, running at 300,000 miles per hour.

We are at the restaurant by the ocean. Me and two men from the south. They want to know my story. How did I end up being who I am. The waitresses are keeping up quite well. The beach. Outside is a concrete fountain, circular cement wall. I stretch out on it. It is moving. Floating. We are in the ocean on the concrete fountain.

I go down the gray stairs and hit the blue ramp of plywood someone put up and boom there he is. Mr. man. (Brian the homeless guy). Hello! I say. He stares at me, his face red. His hair red and curly. Eyes piercing blue. Waiting for me to get out of his way. Silent. My right ear is deaf.

Driving up the mountain on a snow-covered road treacherous until the bridge, which is strangely clean. It is night. Over the gorge and onto the left turn past the box apartments, each door with a variation of Christmas decorations: spruce boughs. Red ribbons. Blinking lights. My penumbra of ghetto cheer. Too many parties but whatever. It’s what you do at Christmas. Right?

Crazy john is there Do I wear a mask do I not wear a mask do I wear a mask? (that’s me). Stefanie tried to kill me. I said: I don’t want any of that crap liquor. Gimme top shelf. This was after work. We drank for free there. so I made out with her boyfriend on new years eve, so what?

I had to stop. This used to be where I live now a megacity. Highways snake around a giant circle with off-ramps I try to follow route 59. “we are in the mega-apartment” my family member says. I have no idea who these people are. The windows have louvred blinds and overlook the highways. They have a dog. There is no smoking.

I see bill on Tuesday it’s nice and warm in here we find a booth nobody wants to work here when the kid shows up oh sorry I was tied up. Business. He has a laptop. questions and answers. the guy a Caribbean accent (where is Guadalupe?)  So if this chemo works, then they’ll keep on. It’ll give me more time.

Unexpectedly, Bill calls. Wants to meet at Dunkin. Ok like 10:30? He and I discuss some very difficult stuff. But I’m happy to be of service. I mean it’s not really service, it’ll be hanging out with one of my best friends. Like that. We get coffee, I see the other’s ponytail disappear behind the wall. Yup. He saw me. Or maybe not.

Wanna fireball? Lindsey hands me the candy. Not so scorchin’ hot. I get plastic bits in my mouth and try to find a bathroom to spit it out. On the second floor of the blasé i look though the window and see the meeting down on the grass. Nothing happening. I come back at 8:30. Where’ve you been? I don’t know.

At the meeting, I sit next to a man with blond hair who has just lost his son. I hug him. I am so sorry I say. “Sally usually sits there.” I am still in my seat. Sally has left in a huff. “Oh. I lead the meeting?” “Yeah,” blond guy says, chuckling. “Oh. Fuck.” Afterwards, I am shunned. A woman flies at me:

I opened the meeting Friday it went fine. A member was there. I tried to talk to some people. I talked to Loren about how I was feeling and she tore me a new one. Went up one sidea’ me and down the other. i went to my car in the middle of it. just sat there and cried. James said I was sorry for myself.

it’s chaos. The microwave sits on top of a stereo receiver. High ceilings and nothing in this cluttered kitchen makes any kind of sense. I find pizza slices in the fridge and put em in the microwave. I have pizza I say, bringing it out to the boys. We’re making fo soup says their leader in a really cunty voice.

I was talking and my guy came in. the one who asks for change. He’s really tall and fucked up. He came in looking for coffee and Vic was like it’s not done yet. Then he came in five minutes later and Vic was like: still not done. I float on the ether of disclosure. of spilling my guts. fuck it, I’m no longer into impression management: I was legit scared.

Hello where ya been (night falls) what, no prostitutes in Bangkok? that is such a load of bullshit on the ramp he laughs, caught. We bump into each other like old friends, me him and Paula not to forget Jason, all of them like on cheers political differences well, fuck em I’m tired. I want to watch the moon and have friends. So sue me.

Yes. Apartment 4. He puts down the phone, disappears behind a slowly opening iron door. Nighttime in the dark house. Lighted windows behind a monolith of iron. My apartment is behind this. Are we in perpetual darkness? Rust patina. I don’t know the code. The street slopes up, each side behind the iron doors. This is how we live now.

Michael plays guitar. One-note leads. I am here to meet the family at the compound: The End of the World Hotel and Casino. Two floors of hotel rooms jammed up against the dunes. Bodies cavort in the windows. Lobbies with displays of elegance the latest fashions on the woman on the balcony a sweeping caftan. The waves come up to the overhang and lip it.

In twilight all the men in wife-beaters we are a crime family. Cars in the driveway cheese it the cops hide under the table with the tablecloth that goes to the floor bikes in terminal apartments everyone needs to talk like me.

Bert says “maybe the president should read it” (the constitution). “Outside issue” nat yells, “take that shit upstairs.” Brian’s plaid shirt hangs over the chair where he left it two days ago. It was there yesterday. It was there today. (Are these extravagant promises? You bet your ass they are). I need to up my meds. “I upped mine so much, I didn’t give a fuck about anything or anyone.

I am in the country walking on the road in foreign parts strain to see the road sign where the hell is this? What town? (once you make a right you are in the screeching city ) a woman and her child approach me. I pull down a giant pole using only a rope., jesus, I didn’t mean to do that…

Walking down Little Tor Road in the brilliant sun. Up ahead south mountain looms so tired no way I could climb to the top to see the outline of the city. A woman in the heat and light sells black irises on the side of the road. All is beautiful. I look up toward the green of south mountain, but it is gone.

I’m listening to a lot of doom metal. It’s great. The weather is taking a shit on a roller-coaster. There is a surplus of insanity. The cat is crunching mouse bones, mouse guts, in the night. Turn up the music. Some people present an image that turns out to be totally untrue. Why I care the reason is… does he really live there? are you fucking kidding me? The king of everything. (I love Tyler).

At the hotel we bought, summer trees hang down in the hallways. The outdoor corridors. Messes of leaves, boardwalk pathways. The place is hoppin. Somebody runs it for us. It is warm and calm in the bustle of folks who stay there. it seems, surprisingly, relatively happy. I hang out with two dogs and an angry man who finally decides we are all gonna be “uncool” together, settles down and gets under the blanket.

I cleaned up the whole loading platform. Full of garbage. Of grease. The girl with the broken ankle helped me. Then the big boss said we had to shovel the snow off the platform. All of it. We did it, even tho my bra was on backwards. The boss was trump. We worked at the wharf. He rewarded us with greasy pizza.

A little of this. A lot of that. Sometimes I lose faith. I am Hester Prynne, scarlet letter whatever. I’m either being called grandma or being looked at askance for talking to stupid earl, and the guy who spilled his guts at the other meeting oh god, forget it.

“Got any change?” he says to Dodie. “No.” to Laura. “No.” She clutches her purse without clutching her purse. Her hair hangs down. he sits at the table with a little ceramic coffee cup, long rip-jean legs to the side. His red hair. His darting eyes. After a while he leaves. The cup remains. Blue and white. In the dream I am cleaning a microwave to be used as a washing machine.

Oh no. Another lace dress is coming. At the wedding they ask my background. Is Jesus Christ my Lord and Savior? Shit like that. They all wear lace dresses. The women. “Lindsey? We haven’t seen him.” “I wish he would come back.” The house in Etna has room after room, with giant windows, crystal chandeliers. Views to the mountains. Oh my God, I keep saying.

My guy was there. the homeless guy from the morning meeting with red hair and talking to himself. I have no idea how he made it thru this brutal-ass fucking winter. I was so happy to see him he came in at the end of the thing and bert was dealing with the coffee pot and he wanted some. He’s tall.

Me and John Lydon drove through all the houses of squalor on the hills in the tiny lanes. Down the rutted snow hill he drove that Volkswagen all in first gear to the beach. The girl on the beach selling overpriced shells for euros. Cash. What’s it in US dollars More. 103% more. In the shallow water of the bay, a seagull guards all the shells with a blue cast.

Jaime won’t help me do my laundry. Nobody will. I have to collect the sandbags (necessary), but the man won’t listen to how to load them in the truck. Jaime leads me through houses on the beach. the rooms and open spaces bathed in an aching orange melancholy. I follow her in the afternoon, being introduced to raucous relatives in the sandy courtyard.

On the map, the road forms a right angle and is very thick. This is odd, but I don’t worry about it because of the dream. A brown-haired man. this is his home, but the waterfall will take you down and kill you. You must avoid this. everything else is achingly beautiful. how could it be? I take the on ramp into a chaos of merging traffic.

I have friends now. I don’t participate in my own oppression. I went to the place today. It was all very impromptu and shit. Bill called. I said: hey how about we meet at quarter to eleven? And he was like huh? Okay. I went. There was probably gonna be unpleasantness and meanness on the part of glasses girl, aka his woman.

In the rain should I bring the car around? (me, Lois and Nate). I can’t see. It’s raining! Wait, this is worse than sixth avenue in downtown Manhattan! The traffic in college town. Four lanes each way. Green highway signs. What? We drive thru laneways of brutal, fantastical architecture. Apartments fused together reaching for the sky Just pull a token. Pull it, the Cornell grad student says.

I hardly ever go there at all. So what’s her problem? I go to the Dunkin dump today. That’s their latest ad, I swear. Gyrating sweating girls drinking some kind of protein concoction and doing splits. Lot of lipstick. I don’t go there much. Maybe once a week, once every 2 weeks and goddamn, I make sure it’s after her man leaves.