the contents of his pockets
the contents of his pockets
After James we all follow:
In the right ass pocket of his jeans he carries a fat sandwich of a wallet containing many cards and no money. It also contains business cards of his dead loved ones.
In the left ass pocket is a four inch by three inch Marble Memo notepad full of writing, very damaged, smashed, torn, bent. Eighty sheets. Reinforced at the spine with industrial staples and duct tape. The pages are scrawled mostly with forgotten phone numbers or references to things he can’t recall, though there are some nice words within. There are occasionally comments on these notes in another hand he does not recognize. Some pages are written on upside down, some sideways, perhaps going to mood and level and type of intoxication.
In the front right pocket is his key chain: a grouping of five oily, well-rubbed keys offset by a black, antique skeleton key and a jump drive. The small number of keys demonstrating his lack of entrance into the world of things that require passage. Also in the pocket rests a cool, ceramic Carmex container. A Uniball Deluxe medium point is clipped to the outer edge like a blade.
In the coin pocket a small, gold luminous ball: A bell snatched off the collar of a cat. After all, cats should not wear bells. Also lodged inside: White earbuds, a Pepcid AC, 2 aspirins and a Xannax.
In the pocket of his black t-shirt is a torn strip of yellow legal paper containing a scribbled, nearly legible schedule for after work:
exercise
med
look job
watch movie
sleep
up early
dishes
script
And written vertically to this list:
art piece
baby arms
if time
Bob & wreath
On the back of the strip of paper a single word:
Trans-mundane
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