the full moon settles above a family across the mexican diner parking lot who are having a birthday bbq for one of their young ones. the young ones shriek at each other.
mommy i need a mommy. daddy i need a daddy. i wonder if that's what they're saying: the kids.
cold beer sparkles next to me at the shitty card table i bought from the guy on the side of the road. he said on summer nights in the 70's they would get drunk and fall asleep on the island in echo park lake. these days/nights i pace around it like a madman.
how do i tell the world i've gone mad. i can't. that's the thing about being a madman. we go mad cuz there isn't the right combination of people to tell things to.
i envision being inside a cage at the freak show in venice beach. i never went inside. but just imagine me in the cage. everybody come see the madman. line right up to see the madman. marijuana smoke. mirrors. the way the ocean smacked me in the face most mornings like a lover no longer in love with me.
i would run down venice blvd beneath the sycamores. or i would weave through the walkstreets and neighborhoods watching the little bungalows get wrecked for the rich people. rich people are uncaring i learned the most in venice.
maybe that's why i can't be rich at what i do. cuz i care. i told trav i wanted to become a doctor and he said you can't cuz you care.
but i care about nothing. i am a madman.
