7.5.15



Mark Twain  wouldve
had he been alive 

Kurt Vonnegut did
he sighed                                                                                                                                
                 while admittedly he thought as much   he didnt say it first
then cited humorist Paul Krasner as who said so Out Loud
(he loved it when humorists used humor like a killer used a gun  point blank stuck in someones face)

                                                                                        about the difference between George W. Bush and Adolf Hitler
 

                                                                                                       Hitler was elected(rimshot)(laughter)(groan)

it was never too soon
not a joke like that
not for an action which didnt deserve a nanosecond of pause because it should never have been happened

anymore than the nanosecond of deliberation 
                                                                          it didnt receive

he was infuriated(as Twain would have been and Vonnegut and Krasner were)
when humor  honest-to-Gawd homespun(Homegrown) or like satire and irony were joylessly maliciously(hoping to eviscerated it) and bitterly attacked by closet-malfeasants whose brilliant apoplexy and applause helped coerce    
and eventually perpetrate it

they missed the HARs  the enthusiastic kneeslaps  which barely touched out the maniacal desire to slap the author
on the back
                   Atta boy!

and them thinking
                              Damn those venal freethinkers  those collective Enemies of the State(seeing them in their minds eye hung in effigy the blacksmudged redness and the smell of straw clotted with dung burning)


disagree with them 
 
you were the enemies of their Kind of mind
 



1423,  Sunday,  3  5. 15
1644,  Sunday,  3  5. 15

6.5.15



I confess I was 
somehow              
                            attracted  

honestly  more mystified 
                                        by his shadow  thrashing  at the brick walls in the alley
backlit by an obscure street lamp   yellow   and sickly 

he thrashed with his arms
his body moved frightfully    twisting
as if he were caught in deep churning waters struggling to keep his head up above it
 
swimming for his life



I didnt see any other shadows or hear voices running beside his  or trying to interrupt his blubbering    

looking around me   I didnt see anyone either
 

he began to calm
take possession
    I walked into the alley   as I approached I watched his shadow grow taller and darker 

I breeched an interior corner  avoiding the tortured garbage cans there and finally laid eyes on him  

disheveled  would be a mild take

that he had arms legs and a head made it fit that one could call him a human being
a human being hung out to dry
scarcely far enough away 
likely  for other peoples taste


the source of his discontent  perhaps  lay at his feet
a smashed bottle
some shards held by its label 

it was certainly responsible for the tongue he spoke in

in the edges and tines of its upturned glass  amber and honey marbled  twisting in the teepee of light formed between the shadow of his raggedy pantlegs 

he staggered backwards and the glass went black 
in the shroud by his body
 

he staggered again
fell hard on his ass
shaken deeply
then collapsed onto his back his voice tamed to mewling    

incoherent  

alone




I stepped out from the wall and trashed cans into the throat of the alley
he didnt see me

he didnt acknowledge me


he roused himself 

he sat up shaking his head  
his mop to vie with Medusas

upright  his shoulders twitched    telegraphing his exhaustion from his thrashing 

bright skeins of spittle of reflected light stretched between his mouth to his mottled shirt front
 

I walked towards him

he sat dumbfounded watching my approach


--   Are you okay  I asked

--   Whayawan      ta

--   Are you okay

--   Yam

--   Can I help

--   Nah

--   I cant help

--   Nah

--   If I could help  what could I do

--   Nutin


--   What were you doing



--   Duin
                   slingin      prophets
  
slingin prophets at da wall


seein ifn one

might stick





1338,  Saturday,  2  5. 15
 1357,  Sunday,  3  5. 15