one in the group is a korean
but he grew up the Mother South of Us
and acts completely in rhythm with these spanish guys.
its a typical night here.
there's a stranger, theres a stirring sky
of rolling r's in the room.
me&fuzzie are playing getting-drunk video games.
(note that i simply accept this form of activity for the extremely
short era it will be in my life)
i call for compassion.
not from the game but
from a group
of kind, modern minds.
this guy has a plane ticket and load.
he's leaving for the airport.
he's walking out the door after all the animated
goodbyes
just as a member shows.
everyone in the room immediately energizes
we gather and joke that he shoould eat a magic cookie
on the plane.
we make our selections.
he returns with a ripped up plane ticket
and a mad blushing smile.
NO. I AM STAYING! says he
in a tone of childish composure,
with fully evolved pride
and a nothing-to-loose conclusion.
my soul brightens that i've witnessed this.
i pack a bowl
and send it his way for dubs.
he leaves the house within minutes
without baggage.
i express my confusion
i am told, "cerveza"
(alcohol)
behind the windsheild i sit in the passengers seat and navigate.
click here to speak to me.