Last night I dreamed I was back in the Coast Guard.

I saw my old captain, Ltjg. Alexander.

I saw Nob, the old cook.

The sea was dark and heaving beneath our gleaming white cutter.

I was happy as a pig in shit.


Something in me does love the harsh sea.

Though I know her, and should fear her better.


Today I am making Pho. I have made a stock with chicken stock and garlic and flame-charred ginger and sweet onions and star anise and cinnamon and fish sauce and lime juice and soy sauce and brown sugar and serrano chiles.

I will yet add mint and basil and cilantro and red onion and green onion and caramelized pork chops and whatever the hell else I can find to throw in there.


Here it is:


I have cleaned the house until it gleams and ditto for the dog.


We are all for the boneyard.

Let’s eat good in the meantime, shall we?



Bullet and Buddha, Casa De Lavaplatos Lacrimos Y La Mujer En El Borde