Up goes Helios and all of a sudden it’s different on the porch yard glowing verdant too true; when up the sun, the sin sizzles. Recline back and take it in, lads. The waning flows till the class bell rings, then it sings and bops of another tempo. But mornings like these we treasure. #hsalexander
6:00pm “Baby, It’s New Years Eve”
‘I am not gonna fight it this year, honey!’ I shout up the straits, I’m Spock and spanked in the mirror, hello. Down the stairs and I’m gaffooning in the glass, the can, the bubbly. We stumble through the kitchen and out the door come the neighbors and the city burns like a great old Roman candle burning burning burning and we gravitated to the volcarock like mothmatics. 'I am not gonna fight it this year!’ #HSAlexander
5:30 “Cannonball, Hush Up!”
There were nights at Mrs. Brown’s when the heat turned off.
And then in St. Margaret’s Hope, I fled, ran right out of town scared stiff up.
Wandering through docks to get to town.
Thinking yourself walking through ghosts.
Until a child falls and scrapes her knee and cry, “Muummm!” and that would bring you back.
Still, there, felt so lonesome and remote.
A world that moves at plank snail tempo.
Compared to the EC grittle grind. #HSAlexander
5:00pm “From a Beach in Lagos”
At this point in time I feel timeless, like a character from my own imagination’s novel, damp with the Atlantic, eagerness, and zeal, and salt water drips on the page from my hair. The scene in front of me is the most beautiful, most foreign, and most enticing. Coarse tan sand with bits of small rock, seashells, and bottle caps swimming in the grains. Atop the cliffs, accessible by a pair of stone steps, is a beach bar where we will drink cold Sagres later. The sun is the right kind of warm, comforting like a large bed but more like the hot pink insides of a fresh grilled tenderloin. Either way, in it my skin prickles as my leg hairs dry and a film of salt develops, coating me in the atmosphere of the afternoon. #HSAlexander
Each morning I rise,
I see a trace more rib.
This is the desired result.
Sharp, but mentally dulled
Bite like fangs
But I ignore them.
The stomach moans
A bit more rib.
A bit less flesh.
But my chest
Keeps its breadth.
Toned and moaning,
My body tramps the day,
Walking most places,
When I find walking
Boring, tedious, slow.
4:00pm “The Blue Tarp and the English Chatter”
If you turn right instead of going over the last bridge to Walton (pronounced “Wahhton”), and continue down the verdant path with two auburn dirt tracks equidistant from one another due to a car’s width, you will see peeking through the scraggly trees and riverside overgrowth a wearied blue tarp, and you might hear laughter, as I did, on the last day of May, and if you continue down the path, you’ll hear country English grumblings and to your left will be a clearing of numerous smooth river rocks and you will see a large rock amongst tree rocks like altars a-topped with painted stones and jawbones and that large rock, in black thick pen, will read, “Welcome to Almost Heaven, eh!!” #HSAlexander
3:30pm “Find a City”
Find yourself a city to live in.
Anywhere with tall towers.
A pub on corners and main streets.
Some days of mad cold rain but on most days, light —in some form, at least.
The light that morning shone clean off the stone, up the windowpanes and down the metal gutters, the shinglettes, and the flower boxes out into the street where they held hands and walked swiftly up the hill and only looked up at the castle while the buses thundered by. The rest of the market thronged and the castle knew it was handsome and like a tragedy, he did as well. That’s why he had grown that moose pube of a beard. But she met him moose pubed at first.
So what was he really doing?
But yawping his moose horn’s bellow? #HSAlexander
3:00pm “The Alexander Doorbell”
Alexander. You could have heard it swooned, belted, snarled, cheered, whimpered, whispered, shouted over mountain tops which had refused limits and sought to punch moon in the eye, heard all the name in any time of life on this planet known Earth and it would still inspire awe.