It started off as a ringtone that made me laugh. It became an ironic reflection of how
I broke in Ghana. An upstairs neighbor of Counterpulse threw empty 40 ounce bottles
from the window down onto the sidewalk of 9th and Mission the day we practiced
at the bus stop. We were playing our shakers too loud. We had to run. There was glass
everywhere. That part wasn’t on youtube or in the pictures. Afterwards, we went inside
to perform our Work-In-Progress showing to the sound of shattering glass. We ran
again. It wasn’t our best performance, but we learned a lot and made “Ampey!” better.
We had some great shows. That was the beginning and the middle … we hadn’t even
gotten to the game yet. I’m on my way there now, to the end … but I don’t know how
to tell you the story of how I’ve paid to be possessed and lost fingers along the way.
I cut one off for ailing me, the other fell. I expect a third will soon. I’m waiting for the
fourth to come back. Time was lost with so much work to do still, but I carry on because
“Ampey!” said so. The sound of shattering glass is the best way to describe what
happens inside my heart when I look up and see the PD advertisement with my name
at Civic Center and 16th Street Station. Wow. My spirit and spirit have worked are
working to stay clear. I’m not sleeping well from worry. Blurry rainbows go away. If I
do what “Ampey!” says everything will be fine. I have to concentrate. There is little time
to make this show big. A dope fiend did the most fascinating forward roll. He got
too close to my mother, but his thizz face across mission street was impeccable. Better than ballet I tell you.