Saturday, September 30, 2006

Getting Filthy, Coming Clean


At long last, a trip to secret beach.

That little bulldog bossed around the entire ocean. All the birds, the dead sea lion, the rocks, the grains of sand, the piles of seaweed, the long whips of bull kelp, the stately line of pelicans, the very sun in the sky.


There was gnashing of teeth and the rending of garments.


The Monk brought order and serenity.


Afterwards, we all bathed and took long afternoon naps.


If there is a way to be happier, I have not found it.


My wish for you today is to feel the same wild joy and contentment and to run and play until your entire being is exhausted and delirious and then to get into a warm daytime bed with someone you love and snuggle up in it and fall asleep listening to the sound of them breathing in your arms...




Anonymous Anonymous said...

you wish.

i really like the monk's outfit. like some kind of seagoing gaucho.

my blog addy changed. somebody stole the old one. get it from 21k's blog.

oh them dogs. i just love them dogs, man. and u2.

6:24 PM  
Blogger tearful dishwasher said...

Hey, brotherman.

Thanks for stopping by and giving me the scoop on the new digs.

Those dogs, whadda gonna do? You just gotta roll with it...

Man, I truly love that Jack poem. You nailed that one.



7:38 PM  

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