he packed his toothbrush and toothpaste for the road trip in the wee hours of the morningtoo tired the night before after coming home from work he dropped into bed clothed

if he didnt time it right hed be driving east into the rising sun then the leg rolling due south forty minutes wouldnt help him escape its direct glare and inspection although he was really getting good at this trip gettin good  nine times over the last eleven years Fuck the Rising Sun!  few would ever imagine the irony of that cry

sixteentwenty minutes down the road it began pestering him that the toothpaste he may have packed was his grrlfriends mintedCHRIST Crest  at least it wasnt Colgates 

                                                          brushing his teeth was the last of his toiletry he may have been absentmindedanticipating the eleven hour ride  he picked up   the plump tube    not thinking

she used it only a couple of times a couple times  before she left    left  sounded ominous

sounded ominous

                       he tried it on for sizesaid it out loud A couple of times before she left

left coming out of his mouth sounded   final  left    A couple times before she left

he had upended the tube squeezing it lightly before she left how long ago had that been  he squeezed the tube harder 

it wasnt giving 

             it isntisnt Heinz Ketchup he squeezed harder  how long ago had it been

some paste crumbled out of the tube

some paste bounced off his wetted toothbrush 

some paste clung like cocaine sniffedclinging to his moustache

Itd been awhile

How longs a while

Three years  a while

he righted the tube

screwed on its top

tossed it in the enameled babyblue tin bathroom trash

he rinsed off his toothbrush

set it down

he walked into and up the hall into the livingroom to the couch that his duffel lay on to exhume his leather toiletry kit  he unzipped it revealing its contents a quiet shimmer off a sheaf of Lifestyles condoms There he snatched the canopic tube of Arm & Hammer toothpaste

it was easier to exhume than apparently  his relationship  

                                                                  at least his teeth would be clean

his breath fresh

he spit and rinsed the scouring down the drain

he relaxed

he had thrown away the old paste

he made the southern leg as the sun peered over the hilled horizon like a busybody

2221,  Twosday,  9  4. 19

1017,  Reggae Friday,  12  4. 19

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nc_CCViZrFY

back

          intact

                    no worse for wear at least not that Id admit

whassup

          yakeep yer nose clean

1852, Thursday,  11  4. 19

                                 he was clinging to restlesssleep dreaming to catch a sliver a handful of something to take ahold of and bring out

                             then suddenlybestowed onesigh bellycramp vague  quiet   envelopingone then several coils of his brain he woke

What was that

onesigh bellycramp

Onesigh bellycramp

it didnt repeat itself

whawas he to do with THAT 

                              certainly something to have emerged   onesigh bellycramp                           

his bowels or bladder didnt waken him

he remembered his dreaming self hanging around  like a kid on a street corner waiting for buddies  

his friends were always a hoot

walking around town they came across corners that teemed with clowns miscreants

What’s a miscreant?

Not desirable Wannabe bad boys Bobby

How do you know that?

Miscreant I read a lot

Yah one sniped If he wasn’t hangin with us he’d be reading; he’s got paperback in his back pocket.

You got a book in your back pocket? Bobby asked

Slaughterhouse-Five  Vonnegut  Billy Pilgrim

An anti-war novel.

Its a humane novel a moral novel  I dont believe ya buy into Nam Jeff

No.

Though yer father does

He was a Marine; what do you expect?

I expect he fought in the South Pacific and Korea so his childrennot that he was thinking that far ahead wouldnt have to fight in trumpedup wars to make money for fat cats

If Im drafted Im not going

You’d rather go to jail?

I side with Ali  “Man, I aint got no quarrel with them Viet Cong.  Why should they ask me to put on a uniform and go ten thousand miles from home and drop bombs and bullets on brown people in Vietnam while so-called Negro people in Louisville are treated like dogs and denied simple human rights?”

You memorize that?

I did You find a hole in his logic

I agree with, Joe said Bobby

Jeff turned to Bobby Your polio fixed you 4-F, you aren’t sweating the draft.

And neither am I  You sweatin Jeff

My brother went into the Coast Guard.

You like me like Bobby like your brother white  Coast Guards obviously an option But I aint military materialI know that I dont like anyone tellin me what to dolet alone not answering my questions why I should do it Im not into blind faith religion or orders

Well . . hope you don’t go low in the draft lottery.

I expect to Karma

You expect to?

Definitely We should get together with the guys on draft nighthave whisky beers pizza twenty bucks apiece in a pot  first birthday turned gets the pot

I’d pay twenty bucks to see you become a draft dodger.

Money well spent  Would help afford me a road trip

You’re fucked up, man. 

No  Whafucks me up is seeing a human being turned into ground beef or a flaming torch  Remember Thich Quang Duc

God bless you.

Funny

No.

Thich Quanf Duc Buddhist monk Immolated himself to fight all forms of oppression  I didnt need to see that on televisionanymore than I needed to see General Nguyen Ngoc Loan execute Vietcong suspect Nguyen Van Lemshoot him in the head on a street in Saigon then walk over to reporters to tell them “These guys kill a lot of our people, and I think Buddha will forgive me.”    

Or anymore than the photograph of Phan Thi Kim Phuc the Napalm girl

You know their names?  What the fuck.

I know their namesI remember what they suffered virtually at our hands  by Americas wha  will   I aint being part of that legacy any more than I hafta assume as being an American

You know their names.

I know their namesremember their names  probably because I was a paperboy who read the papers while walking my routes

You'll go to jail.

Not if I and every draftee refuses to enter the military Think of the optics of every eighteen year oldour generation put in jail

Optics. Vonnegut?

Vonnegut  Reading   Thinking

onesigh bellycramp

 

thinking about it 

                   a bell being rung to pay strict attention to 

otherwise hed nobodyelse  suffer the consequences of ignoring it

early Thursday morning before 0800,  4  4. 19

1253,  Reggae Friday,  5  4. 19

War  Spill the Wine  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w6qcafgLHe4

smegma

the viscous glue cementingsemening Israeli notions of apartheid has formed a miserable foul crust smegma

Netanyahoo stinks

                    or rather a stinking Netanyahoo  the Jews (those Jews who voted for him) are as unfortunate as the racists and white Nationalists who support Drumpf

https://theintercept.com/2019/04/10/netanyahu-set-victory-israelis-vote-never-ending-military-rule-palestinians/

2306,  Thursday,  11  4. 19

a stain a smegma on the World

                           joining 4thquarter on a free ride through the valley and wildflowersthrough the solitaire desert anup into the red rocks  my soul advised Time to traipse 

              traipsing

                                              yak when Im back!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7GjYlTwWQHI

1434 aka 234,  Thursday,  4  4. 19

he crossed his fingers that the rain would holdup until he got home

it wasnt long now ten longfifteen minutes 

                                        suddenlywest through rainspattered windows he glimpsed lightning cry disconnected lines jagged broken panestheir quicklight either absorbed or subduedstrangled by towering black dense thunderheads a wall of thunderheads 

                                     awCHRIST he hoped he beat those home

                                                                            the intermittent rain was foreplay  

butthen something  east  drew his eyesdistracted him  marbled yellowamber blushes   occasionally it seemed to him the light they threw was electrical light asif off exploding electrical transformers

                                                                                    one occurred ahead before the black of a ridge several miles away and what he sawhe couldnt have seen  an orangelightedpainted wrist a forearm up to the break inside the elbow thengone  the light snuffed  
Man
     Eyes on the road

eyes on the hills

Eyes on the road

eyes on the hills

  eyes

       tick tock

tick tock

              tick tock

it was making him dizzy

                     then another explosioncloser another painted forearm bicep pec  flashed   gone 

tick tock

tick tock  

           tick tock tick tock ti suddenyellowlighted torso figure  moving westnorthwest scarcelyetched breaking a hilltop  a silhouette    a giant 
                                        giant if he were to believe his eyes  Atlas   Titan   freed of the sky

off the highway a shower of redsparks blacker smoke rising up into the black skyrivulets black ink   the giant  giant  in one step he crossed the four lanesthe median between them  the thunderheads he strove towards were taller  making haste  seemed he was excited by them

the staticky music on the radio was interrupted again civil danger warning if it wasnt an emergency stay inside stay off the roads existing tornado conditions

he hadnt passed a car a car hadnt passed him except for twothree on the other side over ten minutes
almost home

almost home

almost home

no Atlas

                 no more explosions

dancing thunderheads

2220,  Friday,  29  3. 19

1035,  Day-between-Two-Ts,  3  4. 19

Aaliyah  I Refuse  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U__8YxNS_Zg

huntings no fun when your prey dont run  

                                              wha Run The Jewels rapped in their Legend Has It was “hunting’s no fun when the prey don’t move” their use of “move” was to rhyme with the prior line

he heard it on Ari Melbers political show The Beat it was in reference to a trophy hunter from Illinois who went on safari to kill an African lion and shot it three timeskilling it 

                                                       while the lion slept

not fun

he wanted FUN!  

                 an what would be fun already done on film would be to take the hunter back to Africa on his dime strip him naked then have him run ahead of a clutch of warriors his kind mebbe white wealthy entitled have offended 

in the 60s film the story circa 1880 allowing him to run for his life was called The Lion’s Chance

                                                                                                                          ironichuh

given the Illannoyins karma 

                             it was unlikely to end in his favor 

although terribly entertaining he wouldnt watch the video hed read about it 

                                                                               hed rather watch people fuck than murder

Friday evening,  29  3. 19

1219,  Monday,  1  4. 19

https://www.chron.com/nation/article/Trophy-hunter-who-killed-sleeping-lion-in-video-13703718.php  

https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0060736/?ref_=fn_al_tt_1

it was a Sunday

on top of another Sunday

on top of another Sunday

on top of anotheran another Sunday an another Sunday an a Sunday SundaySunday yaget the pictureshe got the picture

she took Sundays off from work fortythree weeks agonearing a year so they could have timethey could have time together  time for themselves 

what was  them

this Sunday open again 

                          and what she got  three texts the words werent significantdidnt truly matter  the three texts were comprised of twentyfour words

                                     taggers have done more with less

                                                                        mebbe they had more to say

: : sorry for my silence

: : just been enjoying my silence

1837 hours

          shed been up since 0831 the cats were getting restlessgetting hungry  they employed their not-so-subtle ways

thank god they werent dogs

dogs arent subtle

dogs would die if they didnt have their humanstheir Masters

but cats  theyd find a way

                            theyd kill somethingshe was sure if she died unexpectedly at home her cats would eat her

Jesus her friends said that’s a horrible thing to say!

she laughedcovering her mouth they werent sufficiently intimate Survival isn’t pretty. We’ve gotten too far away from really surviving to recognise that. 

Whadyado to survive?   

2332,  Sunday,  31  3. 19

OhChrist low hangin fru . .oranges  
                                      he couldnt help himself he wasnt proud  it was just too ripe to resist

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h6-4M-0qJIc

2146,  Twosday,  two  4. 19

ninepointfive rocked his world ninepointfive rocked his worldninepointfiverocked his  whorl  he was fuckedupblitzed 

he was also upsetoffset putoff 

                                his wife appeared in a dreamshe rarely appeared as herself  an he couldnt saycouldnt see if she was completely herself  her face was her tanned California face that he met in Miami as a teenager although her face was circled with a thick line of white mime makeup 

he didnt remember her hairhe couldnt take his eyes off her face he hadnt seen her looking like that in more than forty years  they couldnt afford a camera  teenage pictures were in her parents albums that her siblings took when her mother died   

             they never got around to sharing the picturesthe albums with her 

her bodynaked was unlike any body she ever had unlike her modesty  naked on a beach beside a stranger a dark man who obviously was enjoying his discomfort an who knew he was safe from him because his wife was appalled by his proclivity to violence she would step in to protect someoneeven someone who verbaly abused her the stranger was a real cunt he smiled You’ll leave him alone, Joe, you hear me; leave him alone and the while the stranger goaded him with his eyesfacial expressions 

so he took a Detour

                     an then another an another a double IPA ninepointfive alcohol 

he was trying to celebrate a benchmark he achieved but she interrupted reminded him  How dare you take that girl into our bed. she glared at him his dreamed wife wouldnt know that their bed was burned in an apartment fire a fire he fought from inside protecting their cats who he threw into a halfbath and closed the door

their bedroom was a loss but he stemmed the redlick there

How dare you take that girl into our bed.

he wasnt going to fight herwasnt going to fight her and her cunt companion

he had been kneeling beside her

                                   as he began to stand she tried to grab him by the arm but her hand slipped from him a fine white sand Miami threw her grip 

                                              he recognised then that she wasnt naked that shed been buried in sand and over her body the cunt had formed an obese naked womans body  the mime makeup sand  

                                                                                                      that sandfashioning made him feel comfortable  comfortable so he could walk awaywalk away from her screaming behind him Our bed! OUR BED!

he was upset her dreamed self came to him angrily he had enough of her anger when she was alive   

in order to leave beach and her accusation he had to pass through a carnival wild animals past an Admission booth

a fat redhead heavily garishly madeup woman sitting behind its bars told him he couldnt enter without paying admission

Im passing through 

It’ll cost you ten dollars to enter.

My ass the violence he left behindunexercised with cunt pantedwas brimming 

Then I’ll have to set someone on you.

Set

halfway through the menageriethe huckstersthe freaks a huge buffalo lumbered towards himtaking an angle that forced him towards a woodplank fence  

behind him a fat man shoved him he needed to use a bathroom  Is this the way to the Men’s room? fatty asked

Beats me

nearly obstructed by the fence the buffalo suddenly wheeledturning his hindquarters on himfatty shoved him from behindthe buffalo kicked he had the strength to negate fattys pushwent up on his toes inertia denied its hoof shot before his thighssmashed the fence recoilingdrawing back its leg inertia caught up with him and shoved himstaggering him past the beasts huge muscular hind end

it rolled an defiant red eye after him

                                     but he made the alley ahead  it narrowed significantlynarrowed to a steel post exit gate  an orangemunchin orangutan squatted there making sure no one reversed field  a placard hung around his neck  When you exit you’re out. the scrawl looked as if the monkey might have made it  menace explicit 

Buhbye big boy

dreamin early Friday morning – no fuckin idea what time,  29  3. 19

Nirvana  Dive  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nVXN4dLy3OU   

he was curious

he was reading the Guardian on-line

he began at Duchamp the pissoir  the article alleged the creation belong to R Mutter alias of Baroness Elsa von Freytag-Loringhoven hed never be attracted to a baroness or a woman whose name included every letter in the alphabet he preferred brevity  what did that say about him if he was asked hed say he was simple things that werent simple made peoples heads ache he preferred his head didnt ache and if provokedcornered he wasnt going to talk his way out of it congenially he was going to hurt someonewhoever  he held people accountable for their provocations

he began at Duchamp fled to Artemisia Gentileschi trippedagain over Djuna Barnes Nightwoodreminded him of college  not having his way with his professors junkie daughter was worth an A the professor was going to fail him because he didnt attend classdidnt listen to his lectures – Sorry doc your first lecture bored me to death – yet unimpeachably his papers and test results either garnered As or were among those graded superior in the class stupidly the professor revealed his grades to him personally relishing that his gradeshis achievements wouldnt matter that what mattered was the grade the professor inscribed  

he did earn his A

it was a good thing the professor gave it to him

                                                 because rather it would have been a blatant example of someone provoking him and he would have hurt the professor badly  on par atleast with the torment the professor treated his daughter  She’s a slut, a piece of shit, left to me by her ungrateful cunt of a mother.

                                                                                        Keep it up doc You realise thats too long for an epitaph

doublingback off Djunas he loved that nameits spelling Nightwood to Artemisia he played quietly with Caravaggio ran away with Ruskin and read a review of Siri Hustvedts Memories of the Future  memories of the future  small polished stones someone dropped but were too lazy to pickup who dropped themrefused to pick them up was someone who hadnt bought them who exhibited they had no skin in the game 

                                                                     he resented people who had no skin in the game
Right-to-(very possibly a miserabledestitute life) Lifers  clowns he didnt counterdemonstrate against because his hands would be too close to their throatshis fists too close to their faceshis knee too close to their balls and cunts a woman would tell you that  hurts   too

the concept  Memories of the Future  fascinated him

he tried to get the book through his library

it was only available on-line fuck eBooks    

he poured himself another tumbler of whisky to sip from beside his black coffee he closed his eyes and was awash in future memories past lies contemporary chatteringcodestwistingwords  Yamight wanna stand backgimme a little room Do  not   provoke    me

he liked to poke around in the dark blindly  let his curiosity find what it may he acquired skinned hands and knees  scrapes   wounds  but every scar he wore was worth it 
                                                              they evoked their own memories  and stories

1111,  Sunday,  31 3. 19 – whered quarter of the year go?

https://www.theguardian.com/artanddesign/2016/oct/05/artemisia-gentileshi-painter-beyond-caravaggio

https://www.theguardian.com/books/2019/mar/20/memories-of-the-future-siri-hustvedt-review