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A Larkin Reverie
02.27.07 (1:59 pm)   [edit]

Video frame taken with a Konica-Minolta Dimage
Z10 digital camera, at maximum (32x) zoom.

Been having glorious visions of the very near future re. my friendship w/Larkin. In this next round of our buddy-ness, we'll become quite the center of gossip...hilarious antics making people laugh and forget their problems...a great healing force from our chemistry...a great adventure that will take off like spiritual wildfire and consume everyone else in the process.

So I was walking down Market Street two days ago, in this Larkin Reverie: In my mind's eye, I returned to the Metro (I've only been there once so far, while he's working), and sit by a corner table. Larkin comes up and looks down at me from his vast height of 6'4", then speaks: "I want you to leave now."

So I look up (but not at him) and say: "Good Gay Lord Jehovah in Heaven, why did you send me such a bee-atch for a guardian angel? The last one you sent me, was a junkie...and now THIS?" (Pointing at Larkin...and then I look in those lovely golden-red eyes of his, and say:) "You mean the world to me."

And right at that moment of my reverie, I snap out of it and look down at the sidewalk, where I see a phrase cleanly chiseled into the concrete:

"You are my everything"

Upside-down, mind you...like a mirror reflection!

This telepathic link is extraordinary...and I believe he's not being a pest by refusing to let me speak with him. My desire to be with him, and be a best friend...and NOT able to talk...intensifies my telepathic ability. I certainly feel Larkin's affectionate spirit around me VERY strongly, these last few days.

So yesterday, I'm crossing the street directly under the Metro, and of course I look up to see if Larkin is taking his smoking break on the deck. No, but I do know he's working, as I could see him there, from the hallway window of our building (next to Mark's apartment). He's so tall, that the awning blocks his head when he's standing on the deck. In the chill weather, he can be seen wearing that same old red and dark-blue jacket...he's sporting a close-cropped (but full) beard and moustache these days...and his shaved head (that lasted a few months; I think to honor me) is now graced with a thick crop of lustrous dark red-brown wavy hair.

So I cross over to Cafe Flor and look back up: he's still not there. (Funny thing: assuming he's telepathic, he KNOWS exactly where I am at any time...and I believe he makes himself available to my view precisely when he thinks it's right.) I linger a while, then cross Market to stand at the corner by the Baghdad Cafe. Now THIS TIME when I look back, I see my Larkin lighting up, there on the deck...and looking DIRECTLY at me. And I, of course, at him, and I'm smiling and feeling so warm and happy like a puppy dog in the spring rain. (Please, no golden shower joke...it's just TOO obvious.)

He doesn't move or turn away from my gaze...but we're far enough apart (of course) to not be absolutely CERTAIN he's really looking right at me. So he's smoking, with his arms crossed, taking those puffs every few seconds, apparently watching me watching him watching me.

I finally turn away after a long, thirst-quenching gaze upon quite an incredible fighting Irishman...and continue my walk towards Church Street. But as I stroll on, sure that Larkin's still staring (this time at my back), I raise both hands in a "V" for victory (and peace). Then, from about a half block down from the corner I just left, I turn around and see Larkin still in the same spot, smoking and looking at me.

So I linger some seconds, looking back with great delight...then bring my right hand in a fist, over my heart...and hold that pose briefly, then turn away and continue my walk. "Should I look back just one more time?" I think, as I reach the further corner. So I do, and see Larkin extinguish his butt (pun intended), open the sliding window, and step inside. I could follow his body with my eyes, even from that distance, in the shadow of the bar in spite of all the other people there. I have an eagle eye for the apple of my eye!

Then I stopped for hot cocoa at Muddy Waters on Church...still in reverie...too much to actually read a book or newspaper...listening to music, feeling damn HAPPY. I decide to wander up Polk Street for my hike, which I haven't done in over a year. (I have sundry hiking routes throughout the city...and sometimes don't return to one for months or even years.)

So I met a really nice guy at a coffeehouse on Polk...one that I've always been meaning to visit. I invited him inside, and bought us hot chocolate. In fact, when I offered Jeff some coffee, he said he'd prefer cocoa. So I have a new friend, who is very sweet and handsome, and we like each other a whole lot! He stayed over two nights ago...boy did I feel relaxed...his company is so pleasant, and that's a good sign. He also dropped over for a couple hours yesterday, saying he just wanted to be with me. What a doll!

Yes, and he's not the only lovely man I befriended that day...there's ANOTHER I met in the early evening, before Jeff showed up. This one's Freddie, and he, too, is a good-looker and sweetheart.

My point here, is that it was such a magical day, that started with seeing handsome Larkin across the street, and our silent exchange. I feel LESS frustrated and more heartfelt by our nonverbal communique...it's a very subtle force, but definitely NOT just my imagination. I believe that Larkin's magic is weaving this great adventure for me...and has put me through my paces like a drill sergeant, and I've just graduated from boot camp. (Or should I say "booty" camp? He has a cute, round one, you know! Though I'd prefer one somewhat more AMPLE than his, though hey, I'm sure I'm not his cup of tea in EVERY way, either. Good thing neither of us is monogamous.)

So today, I'm gonna mosey on up to that coffeehouse on Polk again, in hopes of seeing Jeff. It's also possible he'll drop on by this eve., which would be nice. And tomorrow is a big day because for the SECOND time only, I'll hang at the Metro for an hour, enjoying the presence of my belov-ed under the same roof. And I'll leave a Mad Magazine at my table, as a gift to him.

That goes back to last year in February or March, when I brought a copy of Mad to read at Hole in the Wall. (I had a two-year subscription that recently ended...nostalgia inspired me to read the magazine I grew up with and loved, and hadn't read for most of my adult life till now.) Larkin came running in, looked over my shoulder, said, "Mad!"...actually, HOLLERED it, then swiped the magazine and ran off with it upstairs to his apartment. I never saw that issue again. Oh, and he also swiped the large Hershey chocolate bar w/almonds peeking out of my backpack. Never saw THAT again, either.

There's a really nice essay I wrote in 2004 called "Kudos, Mad"...about why I recently subscribed to Mad, and how those artists and authors put joy in a lonely child's heart. It's on my web log here:



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