Rattlesnake Free Jazz Mobile

I sleep in a room with no windows. Wine. Video chat blooming in the heart. Later, on the deck we talk about money while it snows. He smokes a cigarette and for me the wine starts pouring into the landscape. The lights are softer and the mist is red like Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer; Christmas Eve-esque ambiance. Except that's the feeling of the mist, the actual color is infinitely dark yellow. Halloween as a deity. 

Tomorrow morning we go on a hike at Eldorado Canyon State Park near Boulder. It's $8 bucks to walk the Rattlesnake Gulch Trail. Is it dripping from the pine trees or is it snowing? Sun on the snow on the trees. Oh crystals of tiny-wide majesty teach me how to breath again! A train needles through trees near the summit like in a children's book. The Continental Divide is a panorama of unfathomable real estate. How can one own mountains? Who made that tunnel through the mountain? Who lives in that cabin? How am I now eating Spicy Chicken Ramen, sub Pork Belly, with spicy edamame and soft shell crab buns, with a "modern whiskey" that has lemon foam and sprig of mint that looks like the dove branch from Noah's Ark landing, crepuscular rays forking into the new world like a celestial carnivore?

The Bernese Mountain Dog in the 1.5 million dollar Denver apartment barks at the human shadow in the street. The Denver Nuggets are in the 4^th Quarter against the Bulls. It's officially Halloween and the adults dress up to forget themselves while the kids find themselves in the streets. Satan orders wings. The wall is on fire to keep us warm. Bird scooters await their orders, dormant, like Black Mirror-Robo Dogs.

Tomorrow taking him to the airport he asks if I want to go to space? I say yeah I want to start "The Free Jazz Zero Gravity Big Band." No gravity and no sound. The furthest edge of music where everyone can go ape shit bananas in space suits and no one will hear anything. The ecstatic boredom of total freedom. The complete elimination of dynamics from music. I imagine not being able to use the rebound of the sticks and the drums themselves now floating away and essentially deconstructing into a wild piece of visual art, a feral mobile, cut loose from the ceiling, headed for the absolute-zero wilderness of empty space.

Lion Rules Thor's Lair (Neon Snow Tropics Denverween)

We don't go the art museum. Swing Thai is getting new cement in the alley facing the direction I sit to eat medium spicy Pad Thai. I want to fill the cement truck full of bells or Craigslist drum sets (plural) and bring it on stage tonight. Lion's Lair painted the floor red before we get there. The bartender had the air conditioner on to help dry out the paint. But at some point it's Denver and it's snowing. On the stage the dry heat is blowing with polyester leopard print curtains veiling the droning neon signs, so it feels subtropical up there. Neon snow-tropics.

There is a painting on the wall of a lion and other lion collectibles that I can only assume point to the name of the place. Laura says that Harpoontang plays here the most out of all the places they play. The floor is still sticky. If you don't dance you might not get out of here (alive). We decide that to be a member of your own tribute band would be sick. I have to use a drink ticket for ginger ale. Steve came down from Longmont and tomorrow he sends me a track of shamanic drumming to be used with noise canceling headphones and a hammock between two trees of your childhood.

Stealth is loud. I would follow him. The woman with the iridescent white coat just had a baby. Her heart is true. The man with the pigtails is not a costume, he looks like a black crow, and he's just as beautiful. We are mice and she is holy cheese. We decided against being the royal family at the Spirit of Halloween. Google Maps doesn't know that Spirit of Halloween has moved to 10^th Street so we get to the old address and there is no store. Our false destination looks like a strip mall with no doors or windows. We wander around the parking lot like deer trying to cross a highway.

The highway leads to Rattlesnake Gulch tomorrow even though when we were getting gasoline-snacks-coffee this morning we couldn't make up our minds and Thor's rules didn't say anything about that.