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Viterbo University > TOUCHSTONE Magazine > Issue 67 > Literature > 10/31

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By Arthur Karbowski

i was sitting yesterday, attempting inspiration by
     osmosis. i saw my friend randomly stop to
     read. i remember being on that roof above the
     stop. it was pleasantly summer. i was scoping
     and working.

today: waiting to note a contract. i saw a man
     ghosting down the stairs.

the other day napping: George (Bernard Shaw): "God is
     in the music." that was followed by, in a
     thick rushin' accent, "I don't give a shit
     what you think!"

later that night i had a semi-date; we didn't go out,
     but in. i heard second-hand that my little
     brother hates to be touched. her hands are
     almost as long as mine and calloused.

i have come to the conclusion that my preconceptions
     are misguided.

many days i hunger for the aphony of folk. i go to my
     favorite white chair and do this again.

later yesterday i went to see about hearing better.
for now i'm still hearing accurately. i shared some
     newfound fresh spirit with her (an
     unexpected(?) treat) and she looked at me with
     those lake eyes and...

why i will share music with anyone: music is more
     important to the soul than food is to the

my philobabblings must be correct! i will surely

months ago i was coming home. it was a wonderfully
     misty, grey day. i found myself traveling
     through Éire's emerald earthy Eden. Tara is a
     lovely name.

last night i could easily have been arriving in

Samhain: by Roman measure an ugly pagan vagary. a
     beautiful celebration of life after life;

i keep the innocent image to savor at my leisure.
     today i say a dervish in the sun and i was
     done. tomorrow will not be such a day. []