The adventures of Mr. and Mrs. Jim and Ron -- book: Interabang Bookstore; jim says when it came in : we should write one: Mr. & Mrs. Jeff and Jim. I smiled. he always said the right thing.
my first "big brother" type. protective nature.
I'm jim jim the house he announced one day in spring. a first warm day after a long winter. a clear day. spring in Milwaukee. near the river. he had had a realization that people rested within him, we could take refuge in him, in jim in him in jim the house; he would be our abode our place of safety and he would shelter us. his announcement intrigued and delighted all of us. he was softening into himself the motorcycle bad boy gang member was becoming a father.
ARRIVING in San Francisco he BRINGS three gifts: a Geiger counter, and Ojibwa beaded wampum belt and himself. it only occurred to me later that he was giving me, and all of us, for all I knew, himself: his new found hip sleek short haired sophisticated self; he was wearing a tight black dancer leotard beneath his shirt and jeans. he took his clothes off. the sun was bright-lighting the room. I was surprised at the ease of his gift: his body.
we moved from Diamond Street to the 8th avenue house. originally Marilyn and Peter and Greta and I were to move in and when Jim made the decision to move to SF he was accepted into the new "house" and originally we shared the same room and bed on the second floor.
the last time I saw Jim our relationship had cooled. we had become distant and nothing warmed us to each other. he was sitting, writing in his 1974 Journal-book; intense; he had what seemed to me a speed/cocaine intensity ; slightly arrogant; poised, comfortable in his secret popularity; I don't know really what happened; I never asked he never said anything but it was probably my rabidly wine drunk habits;
but it's not about "confession" its about understanding; and I don't mean forgiveness. I can easily get bogged down in whys and second guessing and conjectures and what-ifs and maybes but it's the slow progressive pull of time; our personal puppet natures; our dancing together and with each other on strings; sometimes the strings tangle but much of the time it's just a dance a passage; a movie with a good soundtrack;
he was sitting at the large dinner table in the dining room over-looking the back yard;;
jim and I stopped sleeping together soon after the night of heavy sex; it could have been a classic case of "don't have sex with your friends" -- I may have been drinking too much too often but I can't help wonder if he was back doing speed or cocaine; he had connected with friends he new in San Francisco and he had no trouble in meeting people;
the stair case in the 8th Ave house intrigues me. the whole house had an old elegance; large rooms, glass doors to the living room, hardwood floors all of which had an elegant squeak of boards, the banister to the upstairs was ornately carved, walk about the stairs to a small "landing" then a turn right and up more stairs to the second floor: Peters room on the right; cozy, it had the best view and feel of the back yard garden; greta's room next to Peters was smaller and always felt sparse if not a bit empty and a little too small but it served her Spartan needs; the bathroom with the thick carpeting was in the center and my room was on the left; a large rectangular room; it was always a little too cool but I remember it being perfect for all my "artistic stuff" - - - - - I remember coming home from Bechtel where I worked as a clerk in the Library ; typically glad to be home, opening the door and there stood jim soric wearing his black leather jacket and nothing else, posed, looking studly naked and I remember looking at his pubic hair and belly button and long lean legs; he was pretending a look of "hard leather" and I just yelped a gleeful sound and we both fell into each others arms laughing and he said to me "I'm just glad it was you who came through the door -- I planned it guickly" -- great moment; great memorable one of kind "ever and forever" moment;
long door length poster of mark spitz was on the door, a matisse blue nude, the antique writing desk on the floor which I used to rest the hermes 3000; used on clipper street; sold at street sale on clayton in 1991.
jim in the 8th avenue house: talks a lot in the kitchen with marilyn; marilyn more or less ruled the kitchen talks; I religiously avoided them; I was becoming increasingly "distant" from "the milwaukee group"; I longed for "something" for something San Francisco, I was too socially shy and distant to adventure to the "bars"; and pretty much avoided socializing except for weekend outings at the new phenomenon of "dance clubs" which seemed to be becoming bigger in size and slowly evolving into what was to become disco but didn't really have a name; Barry White was huge; (other songs?)
in the back of my emotional mind I craved to "have Paul back"; the emotional emptiness and feeling of having been betrayed and endless inner chatter about getting him back went on and on and on and sitting on the grass looking at trees, wondering over and over why why why; trapped in an emotional mode that was barely juvenile; it took or takes years to travel through and accept the realization that I have never really grown-up emotionally; but again that's the analysis it's not the how it is-ness of seeing a life in it's stages
the stages:
birth to early high school; adolescence; high school; collage; spain/france/tangiers/; back in fond du lac; leaving home: love is blue on the high way snow storm; truck hitch hike to milwaukee; madison; job at milwaukee journal; Hippied days;
morgan gibson poetry class, says: talk to jim sorcic about printing a book of poems: Touch of Herons; the growing friendships;
After Dark magazine
eating; grossly overweight; photo taken by jobe soffa head shot; shock; Peter O writing a "confessional" letter saying he as "gay"; the horror;
ask jim and jennie what to do, flippantly jim says you could rape him and I was too stupid to know what that meant thinking it mean just take him and peter accepting the sexual advance; and my inner realization that I was just too gross when it came to knowing what I was doing; ; (later wrote the Most Beautiful Boy they called you the most beautiful boy of Brady Street Poem; on long continuous paper roll;
not eating anything but eggs and bacon and grapefruit juice and the various
acid trips
introduced to speed and the original clarity;
moving in with jim and jennie from the apartment where paul and I lived (meeting Paul and the first time come out acid trip sex bath ocean sounds night)
Paul Felber easy morning: asleep; soft lips soft hair kind eyes golden thighs walking reading sunlight the most beautiful boy of Brady Street they called you home one time once on the beach sea foam the bath the bathing the him of him and you Paul Joseph Felber a piece of velvet blue a vapor a voice a Yearling a story a once a gone going whence always whence
the morning going into jim and jennie's bedroom: morning chat about what's for breakfast; jennie suddenly spontaneously out of the blue throws covers off and shows me jim naked next to her and she fondles him and he get hard and they slowly move into some delightful and delicious sexual moves I'm riveted watching jim lean naturally athletic body move over her and am awed by his graceful sexual entry of jennie and pulsing rhythm and gesticulating motions;
the light of the room
I simply sat on the floor and watched;
the all night layout of the Kaleidoscope Statement of Poetry two page spread collage: geofroy tory images: hyacinth; letter A; sound of the letter A; some e-mc squared images; took us all night a slow silent movement of images we each found;
jennie becoming increasingly more "motherly" the television set was never turned on for political reasons: in fact it was covered with a cloth to hide the fact there even was a television; I don't remember watching television from 1970 to 1976 ---??
jennie's obsessive cleaning; the feeling paul and I were living there but not really "fitting in" -- they went away on a vacation and paul and I found another place to live; didn't talk with them again after moving out of the Cambridge street house --
paul and I on Warren Avenue -- the "going nowhere-ness" of it all -- Jobe Soffa invites me to come out to Berkeley --
1972 May 7th arrive in Oakland station; Berkeley
paul comes out in September? then Peter in October? then Peter finds place on Diamond Street above the Castro -- 1973/1974 --- the marilyn arrives and somehow we're moving into the "new place" "together" -- and I had called Jim in MIlwaukee and we had been writing to each other and then he's suddenly "coming out" --
he arrives at the airport looking sophisticated; his long thin hair cut short and he's looking city-fied and sleek; we get to the diamond street house and after opening some gifts he's wearing a black dancer's leotard and I'm in awe realizing he's giving himself to me. it was the most amazing revelation totally elegant and nothing I can say explains the joy of his body -- he seemed to revel in the joy of sex
there's no better sex than when a narcissist gives himself to you
------------------
last time saw him with any intimacy, cold as we had become, was in the dining room writing; we never said goodbye -- he left for NYC -- I heard he was again "a hit" in the city -- he took to NYC and was working at the MOMA and living in a loft and becoming an accountant and in 1976/1977? I saw him with his new "girl-friend" on a bus; a serendipitous meeting; he was going over to marilyn's who again found a way to wangle into my life and bleed off people I knew; living on Clipper street with Don; I was living with Brad and Sally having the greatest adventure "yet" in SF 1976-1977-78 on Clipper;
jim didn't see me and I didn't have the courage to be friendly but just said something nasty and unkind and frightened and spiteful just glad to be getting off the bus and going up Clipper to meet my own future hell -- James Sorcie
after that I neither asked about nor cared to know about him -- it was by accident in 2000 that I was looking on line and happened to find james martin sorcic's death -- I don't know how or what happened; but he seemed to have died in Florida and married and had an adopted daughter. it's a blank. it's puppets; it's memory I can't keep my eyes off of
as it plays and replays and I keep looking for meaning and recognition and all I see is a delightful journey the joys leading to unhappiness and people tangling together where they once danced
tangled tango
NOTES: see above:
music in the background: 1968 - 1972 ---- Milwaukee
top 40 and the Underground Station! Reitman
d.a. levy had been dead nearly a year before I heard anything about him.
james sorcic received a note: if you don't . . . . (quote)
the magazine: AfterDark.
the "coming out" -- the gunrunner press ----
Interabang Bookstore.
Kaleidoscope.
characters: peter PMO, john kois JK, Jennier Orvino - Sorcic (JO-S)
paul f; later (late)
in no particular order; all at once; beyond the chains of time:
beyond the bounds of time; beyond within the surface of Not Flesh of my Flesh for the Heart: The Adoption of, in Milwaukee, the streets: Farwell Avenue; Brady Street; call down the events name the names: bookstore: Interabang; small press poems the War typewriters revolution street people flower children to be of to not be of to see into to be part of to be not Orvino the woman the women the women of woman politics the sideshow feminist collective it will be so because it will be so because we say it is so we say so we say so now loudly Orvino who was and is or wasn't and will be The East Side, Brady Street, Kaleidoscope, underground newspaper, "Lay-out"; drugs: speed, LSD
Include "the distractions"; while trying to stay "focused" on locating internal memory pieces, what "takes you away from watching the pieces "build" -- composition as Explanation
Composition
as
Explanation
-----------------Novel of Thank You ------------------- GS
THESE WORDS
by James Sorcic
there will come a time
when these words will turn
to weapons
in yr hands/
you will go to bed at nite
& stare into the ruined cities
of yr woman's womb.
& you will fuck this woman
in terror.
i tell you the smell
of all animals
will cover yr hands
as you look abt wildly
in the darkness
& tell yr woman
of what you have found.
& in the darkness
you will know her mouth
beside you, breathing
like the scream
of Falling
trees.
James Sorcic, author of two chapbooks
of poetry -DEATH IS A BAG OF STONES
(Island City) and FIRE IN THE SUN
(Gunrunner), edits the poetry page of
KALEIDOSCOPE (Milwaukee's underground
newspaper) and issues the Gunrunner
Poetry Series.
Contains letter by publisher, Jim Sorcic, announcing d.a.levy's death. 300 copies. Milwaukee, Wisc
not much to say at night
is there. not much verbal
but the visual memories intense-est with him
most intense with him verbals don't hold what
the images contain; to convey with words is not
to intensely experience him his surge as when
upon arriving in San Francisco he gave himself
to me as a gift as if I'd won something special
and warm; he knew it and gave it to me: himself.
that was visual shock enough but when he
invited me to bathe him I was stunned with
wonder wounded with joy dazzled with touch
galore with skin him flesh smooth thighs
dressed in a dancer skin tight black leotard
type outfit; in the tub he stood; water warmly running;
bathing him;
d.a. levy having died; the special Kaleidoscope issue;
soon after that jim and I met
the Polaroid’s b Gibson and jennie took of jim for Ben & Jerry birthday surprise (jim naked with a sweat happy smile enjoyable hardon he said later jennie helped him get it up and keep it up (gay activists)polarokd birthday present; and later in leather smooth smile long glance a joy.
