Lisa and I played a round of frisbee-disc golf today—let’s reminisce.

I love the ‘live performance’ of sports, how you must physicalise
discipline. You get this instant feedback that you have to own and
lean hard into. The being present to adjust, the internalised mechanisms of performance—the ‘liveness’—is the most exciting thing about sports. And, of course, the one who does it best wins—there’s a simplicity to it.

Being Sunday, the course was crowded with guys. Most of the groups were college teams of five or six guys. Since there were only two of us, we were playing faster.

I don’t like going up to a group of guys and asking to play through.
They always let us but we get these appraising looks—not strictly golf related—that you can feel. So we skipped around the guys and played open holes—still playing 18—they just weren't contiguous and it took a bit longer.

It was great to get out in the sun. The course was all rolling fairways, there’s no grass greener and no sky bluer. I came in 14-under (straight brag). I’m a little competitive, my ego loves to be placed in a hierarchy, and winning seems to give form to me, it’s such a pleasant and coherent narrative.

As we were leaving our escort Charles stepped away for a minute and a couple of Yale looking guys offered us a ride back to campus—which was all very innocent and chivalrous—to save us waiting for an Uber or something—I'm sure (we were all sweaty and looked like drowned rats).
‘Sure,’ I thought, ‘let’s run off into the sunset.. not.’
But I said, “No, thanks, anyway.”
.
.
Songs for this:
Golden Boys by Res
Fruitcake by Subsonic Eye

I am an ethical vegetarian,
a humanist and naturalist.

I am a poet scholar teacher,
a writer, a mentor, and bard.

I speak for the mute, hear for
the deaf and see for the blind.

I am not a monkey club member,
I’ll never be censored, by myself!

Tired from pushing through
Not one to quit or surrender
No pressure no diamond
Trying to survive burnt out
Working harder to feel alive
Back up from being down
Set the tone grinding through
Breaking the rules making your own
Loyal to the wrong people
A moral code still doing whats right
Against the odds still surpassing
Thriving through to the end
Not one to complain just do the work
Make the most of the situation
Don't pretending like it's fine
Being denied set aside by doubters
Taking credit for what is mine
Did the work over being criticized

Here, love's story begins
Life can't tear it apart
Cause it's powered by the heart

A look of fear in his eyes
She comes running to his side
The bullies say "this'll hurt"
And she makes them all eat dirt

He looks up from the ground
A smile replaces a frown


Here, love's story blossoms
Nothing in this world can stop them
Cause it's powered by the heart

She pulls him up
He starts to blush
Two hearts begin to rush
"Hey, why don't we get some lunch?"

She brought him to a diner
Where he got to know her

From the ground to a table
From strangers to friends
From a table to a movie
From friends to lovers


Here, love's story ignites
Nothing will ever be as bright
Cause it's powered by the heart

She holds his hand
It makes him glad
She kisses his lips
He'll never get sick of it

From a greeting to a wedding
From two kids grew two lovers
From a date to a family
What a happy story

"I've got good news today
Come home soon, and I'll say"
"Oh boy, I can barely wait"

From two lovers grew an accident
How the hell could this happen?
The sirens were too late


Here, life's story ends
Love tore it apart
Cause it was powered by the heart

Dear Ethel Cain

I might be dying. It is rude to care for oneself when your kids make from children bombs that bomb. It’s not hard to be drunk. My blue mother lives on motherhood while worshiping in miniature the sleep of the lonely bear bought by our most eccentric celebrity. I’m not okay. I have to drive to work when at home my son is sick and my other sons aren’t. If I die, people will stop looking at me right away. My brothers aren’t on their knees with this. Dear star my abusers used puppies to touch my blood in black and white. You can’t deport a witch. A miracle. My nakedness shrinks death with a folk song about angels protesting permanence. The lie reached heaven and that dude set himself on fire to burn god with Palestine. Jesus rose but the rest kept their graves on earth. The minotaur fell out of love with a horse. Lightning left the moon to think on thunder. Lightning left the moon to think on thunder.

An older mind full of growth
An older body wear and tear
Doing what you love times have changed
Trying to bend limited flexibility
Holding back with strength
Going through the motions
Focused on technique slowing down
Taking on a younger athlete
Heavy handed being responsible
Learning to hold back get better
Be smarter and wiser on defense
Hoping for a mistake to get the move
Escape the submission find wiggle room

Getting a haircut well groom
In the barber chair my turn had come
Venting to the barber
Very impatient about life
Being told "everything will come together"
Doing the hard work people notice
The truth planted deep in the heart
Not one to lie open eyes standing tall