Aging (for Marion Seldes)

I have no memory of anything actually having
happened…as far as I know, I just appear, now,
moment to moment, leaving no trace of where
I’ve been or what I’ve done.

Being in New York for a week was so exciting
and expensive I thought I would explode…
it looks like they got rid of most people near death,…
looks like a brood farm for rich, smart, good looking
breeders…my body ached with the stress of just
watching them glide through their first class, incredibly
sophisticated tinker toy. Of course, I wasn’t really there.

I’m playing small ball from now on…simplicity…each
breath rich and slow… each movement a dance…
each word surrounded by space…just a smile on a
face that made it to the other end of life uncorrupted
and joyful. What better?

Nice Denouement

Last couple of days in NYC, yes,
ate more good food…hung out with
Dellon, young friend of Gile’s, guitariste,
like a very warm, sharp knife blade of
New York awareness.…then, a friend of his,
Tara, a dancer, to whom I wanted to explain and
discuss a dance idea I had, but, dazzled by her
presence, I flopped, but she was so kind
and fun that it didn’t matter….young, fresh,
brilliant, sparkly Buddhists… mmmmmm….
very cool…lunch with Giles and Gymbal,
his girlfriend, and a my age/era Trungpa woman
student, just totally delightful and lunch was
delicious…

a close member of my family died while I was
visiting them in New Hampshire…and a couple
I knew in New Jersey got engaged…I told my family
I would do a sukavati, a Buddist practice for people
who have died, when I got back to Mexico,…the
person that died was a Marine, and his ashes were going
to be buried at Arlington cemetery.
The day after I got home, I prepared for the Buddhist
ceremony for the ex-Marine.
At the exact moment I sat down
to begin the sukavati for Gordo, someone
working outside, a random neighbor,
whistled “taps”.

Marian

Jam packed week in New York City, Central Park
the first day perfect weather with a great hot dog…
MOMA and MMMA filling me with color,…in Brooklyn
brunch with my niece, (natural Buddhist) indy film
directing café purveyor of good truth…
a private party for an indy movie; the lead
was a young man with downs syndrome,
snappily dressed and drunk, got into a fistfight
with his family when they pulled the
beautiful ingénue off his lap to take him home….
had lunch with Marian Seldes,
the great Broadway actress. …in fragile good health,
sweet as a flower. I asked her:
“What do you think of Tom Cruise as an actor?”
(It was a set up), she replied: “I don’t think of him
as an actor.” Bada-bing…worth the whole visit….
she is a goddess slowly blossoming into the universe..

East Village

First night in NYC,
the village of Ginsberg, Kerouac, et. al.,
the Beats…
I wonder where the apartment
is, where Hunck stored his stolen goods?
My friend, Bill, faced with pain
the rest of his life, just told me of our
mutual friend, Larry, who just found out
he’s dying of cancer… what a bitch…
meanwhile the streets
are filled with the yuppified hordes on
a Friday night.
I said “Fuck You!” to the first New Yorker
I saw as I got off the bus from Vermont,
as a fraternal greeting…he smiled knowingly.

The apartment I’m staying in is small,
like a hall between rooms, converted into a
living space….might as well be in Tokyo.

Civilization has become a lie to me,
but, funny, if you can get the joke.

Central Park, MOMA, my niece in Brooklyn
are what I want to see…the NYC icons for me.

I’ve seceded, in spite of the Union of Pretense
which characterizes this false age.

The Age of Reason failed precisely
because it couldn’t take a joke.
The Fool….Wisdom…lost in a flurry
of Pulpits.

Painfully, excruciatingly clear…
OMG…don’t you see?
NO!



You can’t bear to look…
because you’re smart enough
to know you will see.

So, we mostly go on,
as if nothing had happened…
looking for excuses for our
hypochondriac symptoms…
parodies of a parody of life.