I guess summer IS over.

I got back from a week of visiting friends on the MA and NH seacoast and found a foot or so of wet heavy snow in my yard. Too.damned.early.for.this.shit. Oh, well. I had a a good time sleeping around and yakkin' with pals. I would have liked to visit some folks I keep meaning to spend time with, but there were certain things over which I had little or no control. I need to return a rental car, pick up insulation and get back to work. So, all you're getting now is this poem: Appetite When I was young I was so hungry, I had such a great hole in my soul. I gorged myself on hatred and self-loathing, feeding on the rage until my heart was as bloated and hard as a blood filled tick. I became so ill. I nearly died. People in my life tried to give me love, but there could never be enough, because I didn't know what "enough" felt like. It tasted so good, love did, that I wanted to take everyone's away; not leaving them any, I was so greedy. Too nice, too rich, too much. So I went on the "I don't need anybody" diet. It works pretty well, most of the time. I just keep telling myself that my hunger for love will pass; that loneliness is bearable, that the pangs of longing will fade, that I'm better off alone. Then I see you, we speak, I learn your name; I learn to expect your welcoming smile. It's like that old potato chip commercial one is not enough, I want them all I remember how good it felt to be a part of someone's life. I forget the sense of loss that came with partings. I feel like singing for my supper but, if I open my mouth, it will be to scream out my need. I must remember that hunger is not starvation; that satisfaction has more to do with restraint, less to do with gluttony. I want to taste the sweet, bitter, salty, sour, crunchy, soft and chewy that life offers. I want to know the difference between enough and too much. 12/30/00