I am indebted to Evan Hough and to Josh LeGassick and to
Jerome Downes
and to Randy Loftin who inspired this conversation.
What got me was your crystal clear eyes,
gentle lasers.
What got me was the
gravity
of your intention. What got me was
eating celery with you
at 2:00am - crunch!
What got me was you kissed me back. What got me was a hint of your not
smile flickering on your face. What got me was you dispassionately
passing me a kleenex when I was emotional and crying. What got me was
you calling me just as I was thinking of you.
What got me was that first playful wave which allowed me
to hang my virgin ten on it and then thanked me happily afterwards.
What got me was running and running and running and running and
collapsing and then running more. What got me was the past casting off
like a hot air balloon. What got me was realizing my Dad was once a
guy just like I am now who knew no more then than I now know. What got
me was finding out about my choice in the matter of my life. What got
me was discovering the only thing I have to do is die.
What got me was watching
my daughter Alexandra
being born with her eyes already wide open looking me straight in the
face recognizing
who I am.
What got me was the irony of finding ecstasy after I gave up trying to
be happy.
What got me was your invitation to come over and play. What got me was
you allowing me to transform and be free with you. What got me was your
sweet tasting nakedness. What got me was you - really you ...
really. What got me was you got me.
What got me was the sound of one hand clapping. What got me was the
divinely ironic
futility
of everything. What got me was the sudden obviousness of all of it.
What got me was enlightenment under a
plastic chandelier.
What got me was a future showing up in the future without a past. What
got me was what's possible, what's really possible, for
human beings. What got me was being adored by
my children.
What got me was the idea of drinking a beer and watching a ball game on
TV with
Jesus.
What got me was the homeless. What got me was fresh cut roses in
winter. What got me was breaking through and realizing there's nobody
out there.
What got me, what really got me ... was ... nothing.