strangeland

he drove east on blue line 58 towards McKittrick 92351

then turned south up a dirt road that claimed Pozo in 20 miles

10 miles up in it traversing a coarse road terraformed by violent runoff he realised he wasnt thinking at the onset of the ride and now was suddenly pressed for time

he altered his dirt and stone road travail to catch 58 west

as he braved the back hills the Los Padres National Forest he passed small ramshackle houses and marveled at other lots that bore long rusted mobile homes and how they ever got up there

maybe it was the light

it was definitely the election

three years ago he traipsed these back roads but they didnt feel like America today

he felt like a stranger in a strange land

what he had going for himself was his whitishness and if his whitishness wasnt claim enough then in his jacket pocket he had a switchblade his fathers sap lead slag stitched up inside worked leather and knuckles a cop friend of his cousin gave him at a party long ago

he wasnt a scout for nothing

he hadnt boxed Golden Gloves for nothing

the cop was a huge Chicago cop

his cousin lived in a brownstone on the third floor accessible by one of the famous Chicago-style woodbeamed backporches and staircases  riveted and hammocked and chainswinged

he sat just inside the screened backdoor at a small linoleum kitchen table and fired up a joint

a couple of tokes in it a cop making everything around him suddenly small walked through the springloaded screen door

he took a single step to the table and menacingly grabbed his wrist

he took the joint out of his hand What have we here

eyeballed it Nice roll and took a deep hit

Wheres Jim he asked as he exhaled  Nice shit Tastes like the shit I confiscated Nobodys gonna admit they had three duffels when theyre booked on one

No he answered Nobody smart

Yeah Dopers are smarter then junkies eh

Sure  I concur

You concur

I do

I love concurring Seen it on Dr Kildare him and GillespieDamn  I concur whenever I get a chance

Small fuckin world

Yeah it is a small fuckin world Who are you

Jimmys cousin

JImmy You call him Jimmy

I do  You probably call him Jim

He prefers Jim

He does but hes Jimmy to me

I think I know of you from Jim  The crazy fuckin polack

I am a polack Dont think Im fuckin crazy

No you are if youre him  You ride bike with Jim on occasion

I do

Youre him  he went into his jacket pocket  Here man these are for you he pressed a set of knuckles into his hand he took another toke  Lifted them off a coon figured he had plenty more where those came from Might help you in your craziness someday

he tossed them in his hand admired their weight  they fit nicely  Brass  Very nice thank you

Yeah thats what I thought too really nice  Going for the coon he momentarily thought to use them against me you learn to see that the twitching in the eyes around them  Had he I would have shot him in the face  Smart coon   I patted him down took this and some ampoules  Crushed the ampoules in the alleyway smeared them in the cinders under my boot  As I said dopers are smarter than junkies

Jims cousin Ill see you inside  I understand hes got more people coming around tonight a gal in particular who Ive taken a shine to  You stickin around

With police protection Oh hell yeah

Yeah well have some fun  Some other boys in blue are coming when theyre off-shift so dont get paranoid

I dont get paranoid

No  Dont imagine you do   Youre fuckin crazy

Good point

        he was feeling like a crazy fuckin stranger in a strangeland

 

1504,  Monday,  14  11. 16

1246,  Twosday,  15  11. 16

Nahko Bear and Medicine for the People  PUEO (The Protector – Hawaiian Owl) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dM8bbQWD5mY&index=21&list=PLz0ZQqOnh7xH3s9Hlgg9Qzm6NfWQrE1DV

can something be interminable if its suffered only a few moments  or minutes

working a liquor store counter when no one was coming around gave him time to think

which wasnt to say he wasnt thinking hard before

a knife wound inflicted in a heartbeat severing tendons artery  survived   is interminable

a psyche devastated horrified in a single moment of dread  disgust  lingers interminable

a hand crushed an ear deafened by an explosion  is interminable

the jury was out on this thing

but he watched the whole jury duck out the back door and he wasnt very sure they were coming back

that could be interminable  

rights denied   black sites   disappearances   he was trying to get his head around the possible or perhaps probable destruction  but he might be dead before  if ever  they could be corrected

                                                            and persist interminable

someone shits in the punch bowl and unaware you drink from it  

the taste lingers

millions shit in the punch bowl

and likely your taste buds are irretrievably damaged

his thinking was that which happens in a heartbeat can be interminable  

although recognising it it was up to him to help correct it before it happened

to bear witness

             to howl  I N T E R M I N A B L E

1926,  Sunday,  13  11. 16

1355,  Twosday,  15  11. 16

Let America be America Again

by Langston Hughes (1938)

Let America be America again.

Let it be the dream it used to be.

Let it be the pioneer on the plain

Seeking a home where he himself is free.

(America never was America to me.)

Let America be the dream the dreamers dreamed—

Let it be that great strong land of love

Where never kings connive nor tyrants scheme

That any man be crushed by one above.

(It never was America to me.)

O, let my land be a land where Liberty

Is crowned with no false patriotic wreath,

But opportunity is real, and life is free,

Equality is in the air we breathe.

(There’s never been equality for me,

Nor freedom in this “homeland of the free.”)

Say, who are you that mumbles in the dark?

And who are you that draws your veil across the stars?

I am the poor white, fooled and pushed apart,

I am the black man bearing slavery’s scars.

I am the red man driven from the land,

I am the immigrant clutching the hope I seek—

And finding only the same old stupid plan

Of dog eat dog, of mighty crush the weak.

I am the young man, full of strength and hope,

Tangled in that ancient endless chain

Of profit, power, gain, of grab the land!

Of grab the gold! Of grab the ways of satisfying need!

Of work the men! Of take the pay!

Of owning everything for one’s own greed!

I am the farmer, bondsman to the soil.

I am the worker sold to the machine.

I am the black man, servant to you all.

I am the people, humble, hungry, mean—

Hungry yet today despite the dream.

Beaten yet today—O, Pioneers!

I am the man who never got ahead,

The poorest worker bartered through the years.

Yet I’m the one who dreamt our basic dream

In the Old World while still a serf of kings,

Who dreamt a dream so strong, so brave, so true,

That even yet its mighty daring sings

In every brick and stone, in every furrow turned

That’s made America the land it has become.

O, I’m the man who sailed those early seas

In search of what I meant to be my home—

For I’m the one who left dark Ireland’s shore,

And Poland’s plain, and England’s grassy lea,

And torn from Black Africa’s strand I came

To build a “homeland of the free.”

The free?

Who said the free? Not me?

Surely not me? The millions on relief today?

The millions shot down when we strike?

The millions who have nothing for our pay?

For all the dreams we’ve dreamed

And all the songs we’ve sung

And all the hopes we’ve held

And all the flags we’ve hung,

The millions who have nothing for our pay—

Except the dream that’s almost dead today.

O, let America be America again—

The land that never has been yet—

And yet must be—the land where every man is free.

The land that’s mine—the poor man’s, Indian’s, Negro’s, ME—

Who made America,

Whose sweat and blood, whose faith and pain,

Whose hand at the foundry, whose plow in the rain,

Must bring back our mighty dream again.

Sure, call me any ugly name you choose—

The steel of freedom does not stain.

From those who live like leeches on the people’s lives,

We must take back our land again,

America!

O, yes,

I say it plain,

America never was America to me,

And yet I swear this oath—

America will be!

Out of the rack and ruin of our gangster death,

The abuse and rot of graft, and stealth, and lies,

We, the people, must redeem

The land, the mines, the plants, the rivers.

The mountains and the endless plain—

All, all the stretch of these great green states—

And make America again

0739,  Thursday,  17  11. 16

Rev. Dr. William J. Barber, II  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6I2Nq1Tr4Pc

we need to kick America in the balls   Great is our prejudice our scribble   It never was  It may yet be