Tuesday, May 7, 2019

day EIGHT HUNDRED and THIRTY EIGHT

Looking for Richard Brautigan in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania in 2018

The stone hits hard against the pavement—
it could be there is no luck to be had anymore.

I just now started to worry about solar storms,
not knowing what they are. Something about
the heliosphere, a disturbance in space weather.

But I also just started to surrender myself
to whatever it is this world has to shell out.

Icy moons spewing water plumes—I surrender.

Bungee-jumping neo-Nazis—I surrender.

Japanese hot tub monkeys—I surrender.

I surrender myself to the radio galaxies,
the blazars I can’t comprehend, and all of
the artificial satellites in retrograde orbits.
I can’t make sense of all the things I don’t understand.

If you happen to see Richard around town,
point him in my direction, wouldn’t you?

--Scott Silsbe

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