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Jul 2015
Nightfall. A sliver of moon in the sky. The rumbling and tumbling of shouting free spirits toss around the meandering darkness. All that segments this organic manifestation, is an occasional, thump.

At least to the narrator. One ‘blessed’ step at a time. The eternal and everlasting thump of one foot in front of the other. Wonder if my longing and hammered foot travels as Telemachus?

The birds chirp in harmonious rhythm. Odd. Should either chirp with a sway, or be passed out, by now. All us tethered beings should swing with the immortal swing, or so I’m thinking.

Tick, tock. Arabica, slam. Jam with the jittery, immortal jam. Or whatever garb I had been throwing my way. Passed through the ‘wisdom’ of my culture, and greedily accepted by my reward circuity.

One big, machine ‘learner’.

Putting that all behind us, it always leaves a longing soul with gritting teeth.

So there I was. 4 p.m. Caffeine crash can’t even begin to describe it. A ‘crash’ designates a single day. A single face to face relationship with ones decision to kiss and tango with a sacred substance.

I was knee, I say knee, deep, in an affair.

At that point it’s not just some shallow reaction to your mind grasping at some crutch it has designated for a moment.

Not to be dramatic. But habit flows to river real quick.

So there I was. 4 p.m. Tryin to swim.

All I had for a life raft. *****.

Get drunk with my friends. That giddy, pushin others on my level on a weekday, giddy.

Push that bravais lattice, PDE numerical simulation, concentration boundary layer, **** to the side.

I was tryin’ to push MY boundary layer.

Yet here I am. 2 a.m.

Everyone is sleepin’.

All I have for company is my, thump, thump, thump.

On my way to the ocean.

Because God will listen to me Cry, and Scream.
Steven Martin
Written by
Steven Martin  San Diego
(San Diego)   
   hamid khan, Got Guanxi and ---
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