30.5.17



What were the chancesBottoms up gentleman that his uncles Ed Ben Fritz Ray Chester Joe all fought in World War II and came homeAnother round bartender

they didnt talk about their experiences  maybe among themselves but he wouldnt have been privy to that

they let him sit at their knees before the coffee table if he was quiet while they watched professional football or hockey on the black and white console as they talked smoked drank beer sipped whiskey

that was his communion with them

and when the game was over and their cluster was breaking up they would make a point of walking over to him roughly rub his crewcut and tell him hed been a good boy

he was welcome among the men of his family

as long as he remained quiet


as a teenager he wasnt
Boy you got a mouth on you

Refute me
        Vietnam then was their point of contention
I deliver the newspaper every dayI read them inside out  I watch the television reports  There isnt a damn thing right about the warIts a war even if Congress hasnt declared itLooks like a duck Walks Sounds   Its a duck    I see profiteering the engines of capitalism well-oiled slickly greased and them not giving a goddamn about the boys dying the boys who butter their loaves of bread

You should leave the room boy  You havent a clue about what youre talking aboutwhat war is

Then refute me  I can listen to reason        Refute me


they glared
        they picked up their sweating cans of beer the bottle of whiskey the shotglasses and left


they knew men who diedsaw men die

those were men in a just war an existential war

Vietnam wasnt

not Korea

every war or action since wasnt


it was domination
subjugation

Wall Streeters had trouble walking home for their trouser pockets stuffed with paper money



Vietnam was war by Americans against Americans fought in a foreign country  proxy




1436. Monday -- Memorial Day – also JFKs 100th birthday,  29  5. 17

29.5.17



it wasnt often he deferredhe acquiesced

it wasnt that his way was the only way

anyones way was their way


he stepped back   away

he did not solicithe did not offer his considered thoughts


and at times that was difficult


because who he didnt counsel was himself


being thoughtless or impatience wasnt who he was so that when he confronted himself Shaddup  I dont wanna hear it
abruptly he cloistered himself

he thought Youre on your own Dont come cryin to me

which did nothing more than infuriate his second or third or whatever incarnation he was

he would be privy to his thoughts since he was he

outside himself he heard Whats gotten into him


what hadnt gotten into him  he was an open door an unclasped unscreened windowhe wanted to hear their arguments  however he had to insist an argument was a statement  not an argument

he simply offered a mirror

often people didnt like mirror he held up for them to look at themselves

people ordinarily look into mirrors to enhancepreen themselves

though his wont was clean fresh-scrubbed visages  not dolled-up to appeal to othersnot masks  or subversion
Tell it like it is!

Raw

Concise


which is where all things ought to begin



1247,  Sunday,  28  5. 17

28.5.17




slowly undulating white halls 


overhead
      light sweeps in waves and shadows of things unseen crawl creepily on the tiled floor scribble the walls


inside the halls he hears a breathing or a whisper    he follows his ears refutes what his eyes seehis dominatrix sense shrills                                                                                                                          
he lets her go 
though he refuses to close his eyes                       

he digs her febrile hallucinations sent to confuse him   




within he found a very old man laying in bed  beyond struggle  surviving only in his eyes   they are enormous
paleblue  

he has crepepaper skin  

he didnt know who he washe didnt wear a bracelet

the old man didnt say   


he talked to the old man like one talks to a pethopeful at least he might convey his feelings emotions  he didnt assume they spoke the same language

the old man moved his eyes side to side searching his gaze as he spoke to him

he didnt trouble himself wondering what his looks meant

he hazarded the moving wallsthe effacing labyrinth contrived to keep him away from this  and yet during every visit the old man remained mute
   
                 then he would feel the halls behind him begin to quiver sense their impatience their preparation to constrict and close and seal him inside 

he rose from a simple wood chair touched the old mans shoulder Ill be back  I will be back   then he strode out of the room ignoring the false exits the maze tendered  it was a pity it couldnt smell the freshblue aroma more robust more realised than Ariadnes thin spunsilk




he didnt know how many timesthe dozens of times he risked the labyrinth to visit the old man


this morning he rode the brisk threads of silver morning sunlight pushing him through the quivering hallwaysover the thin black spider shadows haunting the floor and walls to the old mans room

Good morning he said as he entered Its a glorious day  You ought to allow me to take you out of here

the old man shook his bald head no
                         it was the first he ever acknowledged a word he said

then out of his shrunken body laboring he said Please do not come anymore

he nearly gasped
You dont want me to come


he labored Do not come  I am only living to see you again         I am tired of living


tears welled up in his eyes You cant mean that

Please  Do not come

Dont come

Yes


he searched the old mans eyes
the old man looked back into his lucidly  without alarm  not averting them  piercing  despite their rheumyness

I hear you he heard his heart crack  I wont return 


the conversation exhausted the old man

he shrank a bit more before his very eyes


then he talked as he always talked 
                              of the blue and green world outside the queer walls  the prowling animals flying calling birds the ants and bees and butterflies  the natural lively earthlings which would recognisethough only briefly the old mans death  feel his soul flee through them
 


                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         then the spasming came
I have to go  he stood laid his hand on the sheet over the old mans chest he could feel his ribbones   he smiled

the old man betrayed himself
he smiled


leaving he didnt look back

    he felt the old mans eyes accompanying him  he hurried through hallsdisappointed he passed  and took them outside so they could see again
                           one last time


1235, Saturday,  27  5. 17 
Unkle (feat. ESKA) The Road  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pq0iplfH3l0