whats lost todayif one didnt have a clue he thought most didnt though he held himself to a high bar anif he could make it over the top so should others  lost  were rites of passage

talking with mencontemporaries younger 

                                           few could say they had stood up in a dark theatre trying  in a hushed voice imploring their date to return to their seat beside them  Gina, aww comon, baby; I was just having a little fun witcha.  Gina. Baby. Comon back.   or Mo  or Addie  Babette ouch she was something else  Sue theres always a Sue or Suzy COMON . . I WAS JUST HAVING A LITTLE FUN.  Davida Kaahrist what a rack 

                                                                                 standing up in the seat aisle  a bright celebrated waxen bucket of popcorn  the last of its contents dumping out onto the floor  hanging from their cock

against their thighs 

                      a rite of passage

                                         as a young teenager buying a condom from a drugstore pharmacist the condoms then  were kept behind the counter

                                      or WOW buying a condom from a female pharmacist  who knew women pursued degrees in pharmaceuticals

or once upon a time men of the Maasai tribe of Kenya and Tanzania proving themselves underwent emorata  an unanesthetised circumcision anif that isnt a bridge too far  it is also believed a boy to become a man a warrior  has to kill a lion with a spear

                       Does anybody know how few men there would be in America if they had to kill a lion with a spear

It aint like eating the worm from a bottle of Mescal

Is it?

Impregnating a womanhaving a baby  aint a rite of passage

Making obscene amounts of money aint it either

What rites are had to prove a man or a woman in America

                                                                                he hadnt a fucking clue 

though he shared popcorn at theatres with many women

bought condoms from female pharmacists

eaten worms from Mescal

did drugs that killed friends and acquaintances

rite?

1424,  Reggae Friday,  8  11. 19

1153,  Saturday,  9  11. 19

https://www.newworldencyclopedia.org/entry/Maasai

AwwKahrist JesusChrist involuntarily came out of his mouth

                                                             he had lifted his eyes out his book as he walked to snatch a quick peekassess possible obstacles lots of years of practise he was beginning to think he couldnt walk unless he was reading

ahead heading downhill probably another ten metersprobably twenty meters off the intersection  something lay near the edge of the road where the asphalt rottedcrumbled  the earth beneath it eroding winter rains coursed and undercut the road the citythis was the old city didnt have sidewalks or curbs it was quaint anything dysfunctional might be called quaint  

he walked now loosejointed his finger a bookmarker because he saw he couldnt walk past itignore it 

if it was an animal he was going to pay his respects

                                                      he was also going to fume people in cars didnt give a fuckTHEY had someplace to beTHEY were in a hurry

he stood over it hoping the destroyed organic body was a large pomegranatethats what it looked like  a large dirty smashed pomegranate

it was just past Halloween 

he knew some people to give pomegranates as trick or treats

he dug that

in the Midwest some people gave out apples when he was a kid

maybe this California bunch was upping the game

maybe watermelons next infused with vodka  chilled by the night air

he might have to take up trick or treating again

                                                man the stories he had of adult Halloweens 

he was glad he had them packed in his skullso fucking glad  then he called Halloween Debauchery anhe could debauch with the best of em 

maybe

      maybe it was a pomegranate

Nah  pomegranates havent bones

pulverized

without inspection introspection  unrecognisable

he might be the only person who believed an animal struck and killed and then repeatedly runover was a desecration 

he liked to think he wasnt

                          he just didnt have any proof

the telltale cluethe clincher the flesh marltuffs of fur  gore   still clinging tenaciously to the poor asphalt near the roads center

       a fading bruise  never healing

there wasnt really anything he could gather up off the road  remove to the gravelly edge the busted flesh and bones and organs were crushed into the teeththe black maw of the lousy asphalt

it was times like these he entertained unsavoryghastly thoughts of whoever killed the small animal another earthling

that driver crucified along the roads edge  or those who mangled its body
                                                                            that wouldnt bother him

he sighed

         he took up Thirteen again  before his eyes  and began walking walkingtamping down the violence he needed to allay needed to not let infect him

at least not any more than it did  

1238,  Thursday,  7  11. 19

1205,  Reggae Friday,  8  11. 19

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vw7-G6aiF2A&list=PLDisKgcnAC4TNEbKm6C7axlCFDBM2B-7m&index=1

Motherless Brooklyn

**spoiler if noir isnt your gamejazz isnt dont bother anif ya do bother understand that your opinion isnt worth shit so you might as well keep it to yourself

the film is stitchedheld together by its music

the music holds it in its arms like a swaddled babe

if the music hadnt been so compelling his interest would have wanedbeen lost 

noir hes watched it since he was a kid  those made in the 40s 50s  yes in glorious black and white

Motherless tried 

it fell short 

the film reminded him of a winter night when he was a teenager 

he and his kid brothernot a year younger were walking home from a bowling alley on Milwaukee Avenue

rather than walk into the bite of the wind and cold they took a shortcut across the frozenover Des Plaines River fingers crossed

they walked onto it sixseven feet apart shuffling their feet  and listened devotedly 

they were consciousthey talked about it on the bank before stepping onto the glazed snowswirled ice if one went through it they wouldnt take the other with them  and possibly the other might have a shot at pulling the floundering brother out as long as he didnt get swept under

                                                                                   or so they thought

they were pretty stoned

but being stoned made them feel light as feathers 

if they were drunk they would have been heavier

                                                     andrunk they would have walked the extra quarter mile up Milwaukee and crossed over the Des Plaines on the traffic bridge

stoned 

          they werent so disposed

obviously they made it

it was stunning how hard he listened as they walked listened to the snowmuffled creaks and cracks like an old abandoned house breathing sighing  waiting patiently for someone who would never come

under them he listened to the water run  running black and cold

he imagined what tumbling might look like if the ice gave way could he find up  could he punch up through it to gain a handhold before his breath ran out

he didnt think so

so he quit imagining and listened harder yet

he never knew what his brother thought

he never asked

maybe because reaching the other sidealmost to the bank his brothers leg went through the ice up to his knee

the river was shallow there

he had already made the bank

he grabbed a fallen limb held it out and pulled him up onto the snowy ground

all his brother said was Goddammit

that was thanks enough

it had been his idea to cross the ice

they walked through the trees and eventually found the road that meandered through the forest preserve

they were familiar with it

                           lots of family summer and fall picnics and barbecues were held there at the different open-air pavilions picnic tables anchored to concrete slabs beneath corrugated iron roofs some even had wood dancing floors  lots of footstomping polkas to accordion players

as they walked past the pavilions on the ash and graveled road he could hear soft howls bits and pieces faint ghost music playing he could see his younger self playing egg toss and water balloon toss the winning two won a homemade fruit pie or cake or fruit preserves relishes pickles
hed won better than his fair share

they walked briskly

                      his brothers sodden foot and frozen pant leg kept a striking cadence

thensuddenly his brother stoppedhis eyes darting left and right You hear that?

he listened

nothing

he shook his head no

his brother stood fast listening

then he shook his head no too

they struck off

then

      his brother pulled up There. That?

he listened

nothing

he shook his head no

his brother listened

he shrugged

he shook his head no too

they struck off

thensuddenly again There. That.

                                   he almost slippedfell onto his face stopping abruptly

he listened

no nothing

he shook his head

You didnt hear that?

he shook his head No

You sure?

I havent heard a thing

Alright.

they walked threefiftyfourhundred meters

his brother pulled up again That?

That What

You don’t hear that?

No

his brother stood listening You don’t hear that?

No

Then never mind. Must be my soundtrack.

1541,  Saturday,  2  11. 19

1052,  Thursday,  7  11. 19

That sounds like a threat.

A threat 

I do  I dont threaten 

                     You know that about me   Or should 

Or maybe youve forgotten                

Out of sight out of mind

Don’t be ridiculous.

Ridiculous

                I havent seen you in more than a year

It . .

. . Dont

You know Im scrupulous regarding my calendar dates and times  who Ive spoken with

Please

Dont challenge me Ill embarrass you

Youve been busy with you as Ive told you to be To be so jealously

My deliberate busy is annotated because thats wha I do whaIve taught myself to do

Ive tried to teach you but youre not me

                               

Thank gawd

                                                                   Has it really been more than a year?

her question might have hurt another mans feelings

but he had no feelings

                   dramatic  traumatic draumatic  experiences  had  ifnot cauterised his  had deadened them

he now came out of reasoned  perspective

emotion emotion  he devalued

he had wrestled with emotions and they exhausted him

pinning themhanging them out to dry  he decided reasonably  he was better off without them

she knew better than challenge him on facts

he was meticulous

she wasnt

so it seemed

                opposites  truly attracted

1606,  Day-between-Two-Ts,  6  11. 19

2350, Day-bewtween-Two-Ts,  6  11. 19

Chicago  Does Anybody Really Know What Time It Is  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7uy0ldI_1HA

“It is my divine right to unconditional love. It is my divine right to unconditional love. It is my . . ”

he dug the premise 

                     though he hated to say that the announcerpronouncers voice distracted himtook him off message diminished the elation he might otherwise have enjoyed   they sounded like Rush Limbaugh a person whose very voice pissed him offwhose politics ran counter to his and whose success drove him up a wall  imagining beyond Limbaugh those who hung on his every word   

he leaned forward and killed the podcast

his daughter was asleep now 

he was tempted to argue divine rights

                                        but theres no sense arguing with a disembodied voice coming through the sieve of a speaker

they cant hear you

she was deeply asleep

he sat again in the wood dining chair he set at the foot of her bed

watched her

                  breathe

listened to the whisper of the ventilator aiding her

from the floor beside him he picked up his clipboard and paper the red Bic atop it  he wrote her a letterhe accused her of coercing him to write a letter shed smile at that when she read it

                                                                        he wrote her that when she was a baby sleeping in her crib her mother and he would tiptoe into the room and stand arms around each other  and marvel at the precious little girl they created with their love  

quietly watch her

                   a beautiful extension of their love 

more precious than either of their lives

he felt helpless

watching her

now

as she slept

he wrote

. . . I wouldnt be anywhere else in the world right now

                                                             . . . I love you   dad

0906,  Monday,  28  10. 19

1200,  Saturday,  2  11. 19

Johnny Cash  Hurt  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8AHCfZTRGiI

he walked into her roomstopped short

                                        she had said shed be meditating  she was in the classic pose crosslegged yogastyle spine erect

Ouchhis legs never bent like that maybe thats why he never pursued either meditation or prayers Gumby an Pokey had a better shot of being disciples faithfuls than he

he couldnt tell if she was conscious

the fact she sat boltupright wasnt a hint

she looked like a snake if a snake could close its eyes rather than shut down their retinas

he quickly checked his breathingquieted it he didnt want to interrupt her despite her saying that when she was in deep meditation nothing could disrupt her 

not even a Huey turning lazily overhead dumping fire-retardants on a fire razing homes around hers roused her

fact of the matter was last year seven homes within a quarter mile of hers off the same vale and candle-wicking palms went up in flames

her husband broke into her roomWe gotta go!  Go?  There’s a fire, babe. Move it!

still not to refute her he didnt want to traipse in and mess with her energiestake her off point

hed known too many women who complained he lost their orgasmthat he broke them by changing up his lapping rhythmhow the fuck was he to knowhe was busy  all they had to do was bury his head deeper between their legs that was communication enough mebbe a breathy Yahbaby  There!That’s it! Therethere  Thats ityoure at it Stay put ThereThere  Yaaah Yahthats the fuckin’ spot Aaah          

he thought she might be asleep she said sometimes she fell asleep in the midst of meditating part of it sometimes she communicated with it whatever it was at a different levelunconscious level

                                                                             maybe she thought he was an idiot

“Your soul will know.”

                        thats what he caught off the broadcast a man on a podcast kept reiteratingpronouncing like a bad case of herpes "Your soul will know.”

“Call it karma.”

“Call it your experience.”

“Your soul will know, your karma, your experience . . . you will  Know.”

he had trouble considering soul

when his daughter was younger he was younger whenever she got in trouble and she knew she was in troubleknew what she had done was wrong  she said her brain made her do it

Fuckin cutehuh

Cute

that was cute she fingered her brainan Aww an Aww moment

                                                                    so he awwwed  for a moment he had to take a moment to Awww  like cumming  a brightblue step outside himself

then 

      harshly as a parent he had to step back an step back up his senses cleared by either Awww or Ommm he had to tell his daughterask her  Your brain Really

Youre going to blame your brain

It did wrong

Your brain is you baby

Finger your brain all you want – but thats not getting you a pass or saving you from an appropriate punishment she hated punishment Dont do the crime if you cant do the time

a great tried and true adage

                              probably graffiti scrawled on a bathroom stall partition lotsa memorable lines were found on bathroom stalls or in bricked alleyways  scrawled with paint cans unschooled poets wary pithy observations

they interested him as much as literature refined prose

refined prose was too selfconscious for him too self-aware

on occasion he didnt mind it 

it was an acquired taste and not to be over-indulged

it was different than an unexamined life

So no baby Your brain didnt do it

You did it

An youre going to pay the price

You can think on that for the next fifteen minutessitting on the edge of your bed  DON’T you dare touch a toy  You sit  You think on what you you  youdid Not your brain  You  are  your  brain

he left the bedroom

she wouldnt dare cross him

he left her to examine her actions  her error  her life

now her sisteryears later is examining her soul

“Your soul will know.”

he doubted he had a soul

0828,  Monday,  28  10. 19

1308,  Reggae Friday,  1  11. 19

Faces  (I Know) I’m Losing You  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UrOPJXrUWII

The Sound  Night Versus Day  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TKdLSD0ETy0

House votes on impeachment inquiry resolution

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N15wNOcG9b8https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N15wNOcG9b8

immediately president Drumpf tweets “The Greatest Witch Hunt In American History”

when the FAKE PRESIDENT was elected I said he would be impeached 

                                                                         when he told America he could shoot someone on New Yorks Fifth Avenue and still would not lose voters he told America he was above the Law and he has acted like it since he thinks he is The Unquestionable Great Leader                                                                            

abject fealty is due him

its about time he faces impeachment

1040,  Thursday,  Happy Halloween,  2019

https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/2016/jan/24/donald-trump-says-he-could-shoot-somebody-and-still-not-lose-voters