Dr Pinecraft

Dr, Pinecraft in his BMW riding in the

early evening, down slinky mountain

road, clouds and flashes of lightning

getting more frequent, no guardrail...

...his thoughts convoluted...he felt like

he was getting away with something,

and it felt good...

...top down, half a quart of Southern

Comfort his passenger, but, oh, do

the Tuscan leather seats feel good

after that massage...and his foot slips

and hits the gas and his car goes 

quietly sailing into the mountain valley 

air...a bat made out of hell.

He woke up a spring day in April, scent

of flowers and birdsong...Gibraltar,  

He'd been taking some time off....

"from what?" 

He wondered. He remembered seeing a

billboard in India with the Dalai Lama on 

it, holding a Coca Cola, captioned:

"The Dalai Lama Takes A Break". 

"from what?"

He always was curious what the Dalai 

Lama  did, as leader of his people....

maybe he just needed to take a break 

and sit down, stop leading for a while.

He knew the feeling...he'd been leading

the "Lost Boys" for so long they had to

change their name...now they all had 

families...

...But he was getting distracted...he had 

focus...pull up his socks...man up...put

his moisture missile in it's holster and put

on a new set of spurs....

...so to speak.

He didn't like the birds so well...terns...he

knew they were gulls, but he liked to think 

of them as terns because he didn't like gulls.

The birds weren't that distracting...it was 

more when he went went for a walk among

the cafes, the women at tables with friends

or alone, the way they presented them-

selves, their colors and perfumes, highly 

cultivated gestures and body language that

would make men sway like cobras to a flute.

At least, he recognized that he was alive.

His targets felt alive because most of them

realized they were probably going to die soon.

He liked to give them  notice because their 

behavior then became erratic and created 

opportunities.

But that was just his job. He spent a lot of 

time fishing...his last expedition off  California, 

he didn't catch anything. Gibraltar was near

enough to everything, every place he needed

to go. He had a pet monkey. He liked to knit.