Awash In Tequila

Giggling waters cupped
Her breast
My heart pumped
In the blinding light
Held in weightlessness
As baubles of sparkling drops
Rolled over her areola



New Logo

I am working on a logo design for this site. The Gothic typography is cool but doesn’t speak to the current events of my blog posts

new logo for gustaf prose

Living Off Ship

The ship will be moored in Long Beach about 13:30 hours. Shortly after I will drive my friends car to the arts and crafts center on base. The four ceramic plates I made a week ago will be ready for bisque fire. Just think handmade plates for my apartment. Next project bowls, and then cups.

I don’t own a car so usually ride the bus 10 min from the front gate. Stop at the store for a baguette, cheese and beer. Carrying my sack and walking slower now becoming aware of the familiar houses and their garages. I love this block in spite of the dilapidation and garbage just filled with character.

Impatient to sit down and drink in the evening through my apartment window. I fumble with my keys, up one-two three floors. Breathing heavy now I feel the weight of the chow hall food. The Navy has the best cooks in the military. First door on the left #33 a heavy sigh of relief home again. That familiar smell, a quick survey, everything the way I left it. I spend so much on this place when I could live on ship for free. What do I gain? a little peace or solitude? Yah you know what maybe I am a loner like the captain said so what? – fuck him.

Oct 3, 1985

Long Beach CA 1986

Goodness me it has been a long time since my last letter. Got one off to Rob and Denise
yesterday. I must confess the reason it has been so long is because my pen is broken.(ha ha)
I went to school last night, what a pleasure. Just confused the way everyone makes a mad dash
to their freedom. I just sit there in a euphoria thinking is that it?
Every day that passes my dream still distant and foggy becomes closer. What I can do
with this sea travel adventure in the military eludes me. Kept a watchful eye on the horizon and
my sextant focused on heaven these four years. Became a four point-oh sailor then destroyed it
all with a red hair girl in black leather on the back of my bike.
Standing back as Odysseus contemplating the walls of Troy that hold my sacred Helen.
The imagined scene fades to my death gasping that last breath of this world. My passion, my
Helen i have finished what I left that safe harbor to do.