ifya got moxie  confidence    ifya got balls 

                                                              shoot from the hip

if not

ifya have doubts

keep the gun in yer holster 

things will only go from bad to worse aint a soul gonna have yer back theyll be busy covering their asses faking they didnt knowhadnt hearddidnt see

but as long as you know and recognise thatknow it emphatically  know youre alone

come out of yer corner swinging

chances are the cunts havent thrown a punch in their lives an don wan their pretty faces messed up

the vanity of a puss 

                    but unfortunately pusses have to trade on their lookscant afford a cut a bruise a blackeye  they want to present themselves as above the fray – which theyve usually created – that they are untouchable  impervious

Yah  Perverts

he entered swinging 

                    calling it a battle royale  knocking people down and out or until they stayed downdidnt get up didnt want to get hit again

he was incentivised to stay on his feet 

                                       they were the kind who would kick or stomp if you went down    

 

while he couldnt waitcouldnt wait for the day when that wasnt true in the meantime hed provoke and hit and have them know Nothings just business 

                                         It was personal  

 

0037,  Saturday,  3  10. 20

1336,  Saturday,  3  10. 20

 

another alcoholic Sunday 

                           pro football Jack shots sipping black coffee  until plying beers at High Noon Coop never had it this good

donuts with the coffee

Sunday donuts 

                 only during the football season donuts didnt exist outside it unless he had to take his car in for work or an oil changehave his tires rotated

happily he was rotated far more frequently than his tires

 

a Cambodian woman owned the donut shop

she and her husband ran it and when their daughter and son were old enough they helped

Fon

when her children were babies she and her husband escaped the terror of Cambodia Vietnam they were boat people 

he saw the bodies televised on the six o’clock news when boats sank or overturned  overcrowded   people desperate to save themselves

Fon made it to America

they were grateful to live in America make a living running a donut shop  become citizens

he was born in America

what had he done 

he tipped more than the dozen or two dozen donuts depending he bought on Sunday morning for football Jack black coffee  

he was a sucker for Fons Bavarian custardfilled chocolatefrosted Bismark her powdersugared lemonfilled Bismark her plain buttermilk donut her plain blueberry donut

he had all day to eat them and everyone knew to stay clear of them on pain and punishment of his hands

nobody wanted to piss off a man whod been drunk since morning 

although he was always sober in Fons presence 

                                                 respecting what he would never dare ask her respecting her immigration her courage   and remembering keenly his Born in America entitlement 

                                                                             which he didnt take for granted  Ever

 

1144,  Sunday,  4  10. 20

The Bangles  Manic Monday  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SsmVgoXDq2w

 

he was bitchinghe couldnt remember a time he bitched more about not wanting to playhe loved playing

it was the game

there were softfoam letters fitted inside coloured softfoam pieces from which they had been cut-out  varying sizes upper- and lower-case the letters and their cut-outs had been the same colours but the colours somehow faded or were heightened or either letters or forms were missing some letters warped and werent allegiant to where they originated

the other children he was supposed to play with ran away bored  they left him to play by himself  utterly responsible for assembling corresponding pieces 

had he wanted to play he wouldnt have minded it even if it was difficult

but he wasnt asked

he was sat down with them asif children play nicely with other children because . . well . because they are children

hows that work out with adults

 

the little cunts got up and fled laughing 

                                         a knowing cruel laughter that takes no time at all to learn

they left him to pickup the game put everything back together after they punched out separated and scattered the pieces

he arrived late

he hadnt gotten to enjoy the dismemberment the flinging   the irresponsibleness

 

he was angry

 

the adults could make whatever excuses they wanted to try and mollify him

he wasnt going to be mollified 

                                 Where are the others  This is their mess to pickup

They’ve gone. It’s alright, we’ll help you.

Im not picking anything up

We’ll help you.

Im not

We’ll HELP YOU. beginning to lose their shit

 

I am not picking anything up

Part of this mess is yours. asif lowering their voices after raising their voices would be effective

Here we go again he thought 

                           Are you deaf  I am not picking up a thing

 

curious isnt it  how dreaming and living inform and enfold and weave and wind together and how stupid one could be if they ignored the other for the benefit of either 

 

2103,  Reggae Friday,  2  10. 20

1249,  Saturday,  3  10. 20

 

               he couldnt say how many times he came in through an EXIT

 

2032,  Reggae Friday,  2  10. 20

 

                                          Ill tell ya  When something IS   Then what

Then what?

Yah  It IS   No turning away from itturning your back on it  It IS

Yahave to combat it 

Theres no place to run no place to hide

Yare only fooling yourself if you think you can

 

Is it truly your fight?

Its everyones fight  Binary   Cant wave a white flag declare neutrality  hide

No  Maybe you could hide 

                             Bury your head like escaped Jews and Jap soldiers did during and after World War Two

One could argue thats being alive 

                                     or just surviving

What did you do during the war Daddy

I hid

 

 

I thought she was a little girl dressed as she was in a hood a cape tied at her throat  Li’l Red Riding Hood 

she was a small fullblown woman

I dont know what it was that tipped her off I really dont Maybe   maybe because Im sceptical

I beat her to the punch

And as I watched the surprisethe light go out of her eyes 

                                                             I saw she was every bit a murderer as me

A murderer

Murder Theres nothing else to call it if yawanna be honest 

                                                              Coldblooded murder

 

An when its overhowever its over no one will be innocent No one will be right  Theyll be alive to contend with what they did to stay alive

 

That’s grim.

Yes

early AM,  Saturday,  3  10. 20

1639,  Saturday,  3  10. 20  

Stephen Stills  Word Game  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H-lwvn9GN5w

 

he was utteringmuttering ejaculating odd  nonsensical intonations   which suddenly assembled and formed Whadafuck

hed have thought Whadafuck would just had presented not made him struggle with animal brays roars and mewlings

like he wasnt in control and not in control made him wonder what entity within him was

 

they didnt like raw eggs 

he liked raw eggs 

                   so whomever it was wasnt yet outside his control his reckoning 

hint they were a slob

the raw eggs they dumped into his mouth from cracked shellhalves missed his mouthhe didnt miss his mouth

it was a feeble impersonation 

                                and feeble pissed him off he hated pissed which indicated his . . his . frustrationRAGE 

a pansy 

           he was infiltrated by a pansy

it could have been the booze the blow  the hash 

                                                   though not usually 

usually his infiltration came from a deeper darker place

his feminine side

he openmouthed quaffed raw eggs oysters shots of booze  rarely ever missed his mouth 

this He was a pansy 

                        He wasnt committed to action  probably a rookie a pleb a beginner

everything has to start somewhere

he didnt think he had a virgin left inside himSURPRISE 

                                                           better find herhim and bust their cherrybring them around to his way of thinking

he hated knocking around or killing one of his owndidnt have any qualms about it  just didnt like it  didnt like it one bit 

     and the cunt got eggwhites in his beard 

which was funny

She never had her face smeared with cum while giving headnever let someone cum in Her face

gobs

yet 

     She could gob eggwhites in his beard

Dont like my beard

NO! 

Then shave 

              Your pussys pristine  like a eightyearold girls

Maybe I eat raw eggs like a eightyearold girl.

I was a eightyearold boy an never got egg on my face 

                                                          An boys and girls aint that different

Yaknow that

Whaswid the attempt at embarrassment 

                                            You should know I dont embarrass

One can try.

No  One cant 

               Not if they want to leave their boots in the entry

Whadaya want

I want to be noticed.

Even bad press is good presshuh

Yes.  Something like that.

Aint nothing like that Park it at the entry Talk to me about your grievance grievances Tryin to make me look silly only made you look bad 

                     Every facet worthwhile yare milling about with  reflections of me  know I dont miss my mouth

Ya hung yourself out to dry

Exposed yourself unnecessarily

 

But you did notice.

I want to be noticed.

I want to be acknowledged. 

He She  whatever aspect of him they represented were young hed have thought at his ageas he said  he wouldnt have a virgin left

begrudgingly  Awright Yagot my attention Whadaya want

 

Thank you.

they were polite 

Yare welcome

0713, Reggae Friday,  2  10. 20

1117,  Saturday,  3  10. 20

Booker Little  Grand Valise (Waltz of the Demons)  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8Z9W4Mo_niY

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

                                                         Donald Drumpf  watchin you

my sincerest apologeezs to the band Sting Stewart Copeland Andy Summers  and to everyone who cringes because it was a well-liked song for so many other an better reasons

gotta watch cuz cant believe a word out of his fat mouth 

liars earn that

1549, Reggae Friday,  2  10. 20

Now I lay me down to sleep,

I pray the Lord my soul to keep;

If I should die before I wake,

I pray the Lord my soul to take. Amen.

 

he was baptised

he wondered why

if he was baptised

why he would have to pray the Lord my soul to take

Pray

Really

So it isnt a done deal

I could pray

           an the Lord could say  Piss on it

Hes really got wiggle room 

Really

 

his mother finally asked if he was done and You’re being rhetorical, correct?

Nah Im asking

He’ll take your soul, Joe. You can count on it.

If I can count on it why am I prayingpray the Lord my soul to keeppray the Lord my soul to take

 

You’re being ridiculous.

I wish I had a dollar for every time youve called me ridiculous  I dont think soyou say that prayer as a little girl Maw

Yes I did, of course I did.

 

Did you pray fervently

Of course I did.

You knew fervently as a child

No. Unlikely I knew the word when I was a child.

Yah  Unlikely

                 An its never occurred to you that the Lord might renege

 

That’s a terrible thing to sa . . 

. . At least its not ridiculous 

                              I wish we were breaking new ground Maw but you call me terrible frequently too

Why is it a terrible thing to saybecause  Hes got my back

 

He’s your Lord and Savior.

Excellent I couldnt have steered you here any better than if you were a car My Mother the Car

Steered me?

Yes

What are you talking about? You can’t diminish what I think. 

Nor would I wish to 

                      Though you ought to say believeYou cant diminish what I believe  Its the Lord  Jesus Christ your Savior  You believe in Him not think in Him

You know what I meant.

I know what you said 

                         So  Savior   Praying  I parsed it out to get here  You didnt know as a child the word fervently

she watched him as if he was growing a new head 

                                                       No. As a child I did not.

Thank you

 

evidently she wasnt going to say Youre welcome

the new head was still growing

he better get on with it before she gets up and walks away which when they had conversations she didnt like she was prone to do 

             which is better than sitting on the kitchen chair putting fingers in her ears shaking her head NO and saying loudly NAHNAHNAHNAHNAH

he never did it to her when she was speaking because she would have slapped him across the face and knocked him out of his seat

My point Maw Baptism  which was presupposed in your and my experienceswe were babies  our acceptance of the Lord our Savior we can pray   but He can renege an leave our souls to rot 

                                                                                What would that look an smell lik . . 

. . You’re terrib . . 

. . Youre consistent

Legitimately he could renege on our childhood prayers aneven as we grew older

I don’t know what you’re talking about.

But you are following memy logic

If you want to call it logic.

Lets call it logic an then you can try to persuade me with yours

the head was still growing

maybe if she made it grow large enough it would break the neck of his talking head and shut him up he better make it quick

The linchpin our baptisms  Baptism is an act of obedience Obedience We were babes An act of obedience symbolising the believer’s faithour faith in a crucified buried an risen Saviour our death to sin the burial of the old life and the resurrection to walk in the newness of life in Christ Jesus

Being born and baptised isnt an act of obediencean therefore  His wiggle room

his neck hadnt broken

maybe now hed always be a twoheaded freak to his mother 

                                                                 an shed remember when that was   exactly

I believe. I have Faith.

Thats logical

 

1748,  Thursday,  1  10. 20

1237,  Reggae Friday,  2  10. 20

Everytime I look at you I don’t understand  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VA0Uao6Od-w 

$209K -- Killed

https://www.msnbc.com/11th-hour/watch/trump-announces-he-s-tested-positive-for-the-coronavirus-92982853850 

Well shucks one might say heres Hoping that isnt cruel hes stood above it all  insisted he was untouchable

martyrs die for their cause 

                             despots cult leaders have their followers die for them

Mr President youve owned casinos

                                   Toss of the dicehuh

recently he said “The end of the pandemic is in sight.”  

suppose well have to see if hes prophetic

0106,  Reggae Friday,  2  10. 20 

they resisted him when he suggested bringing a woman into their menage a trois

he argued Four not that either of you are shy doesnt make an orgy

No. they said  it divides us furthur, dilutes us, makes us les . . 

. . Useless  Not us less   Im hearing useless 

Don’t be ridiculous. You have a propensity for hearing things not that aren’t said. 

Or rather hearing things that are implied 

                                            Is it really ridiculous to bring another warm willing commiserate body into our play  our loving

they spokefell over each other I don’t want to share.

frankly he was shocked 

                            Yadon wanna share  more 

he couldnt help but argue with them

abruptly he reminded Miller what he wrote 

                                              I am . . . going back to a world which I can always touch with outstretched arms, the world of what I know and see and recognize from moment to moment. Any other world is meaningless to me and alien to me and hostile to me. In retraversing the first bright world which I knew as a child (Impossible – he interjected) I wish not to rest there but to muscle back to a still brighter world from which I must have escaped. What this world is like I do not know, nor am I sure that I will find it, but it is my world and nothing else intrigues me.

turning to Anais he reminded her what she answered him in her diary 

                                                                          When I first met Henry all he could do was hurl insults, to spit, to lie in gutters of Tropic of Cancer and drink, but now he can talk about having found the language of the night, and all the treasures he finds in his madness, a madness I cannot luxuriate in because I am the mother of all of them . . . I gave him what his mother and father could not give him. Henry’s own parents put him in the wrong world from which we had to escape. I helped Henry escape.

Do you see how selfish you are being

This world you talk of is dangerous place or rather a place arrived at after a dangerous journey  Dangerous because it requires forsaking anyone else to get there 

                                              Think 

We arrived

We have room

Dont believe I am fool enough not to see that I was invited in  I am the third leg

You write separately that not wife husband childperhaps friend might arrive  in this world that they have to be spurned like superfluous baggage weighty un-needed un-essential  But maybe I can see better than you because there have been times Ive bordered on such a dangerous place

he fell quiet

they may have thought he quit talking to let them think to ruminate or maybe converse over what he said

but he fell quiet because he recognised that when he wrote he didnt acknowledge his wife and children rarely ever the family he was born into 

                          when they should be as easily to write of as he signed his name  not forsaken 

                                                                                                               though not forsaken he argued with himself   I hold them at arms length

I hold them at arms length and tremble  tremble because I dont hold them closerclose enough so I cant drop them

Henry  he interrupted them  

                               If youre right  if it is your world and nothing else intrigues you  that pain would kill my conscience and its demise would hasten mine

I am too grounded in my station 

To be as you are  and Anais  would be selfish  cowardly 

                                                               though terribly artistic

 

Art is like cancer

It must have a body to consume

 

0037,  Twosday,  21  1. 92

1502,  Thursday,  1  10. 20

I have wanted for some tim . . 

. . Areya kiddin me 

                                                You  have  wanted

when have you wanted anything

 

it wasnt a thing he wanted

he had sheaves of written pages titled by dates he didnt title anything anif he did it was rare 

                                                                                                    the pages were helter skelter stored in more places than he dare think about

he wanted them gathered in chronological order but he rather devote his time to crafting more than ordering indexing their content 

               no arrangement Oops  he almost Freudianly fraudulently wrote arraignment  he would be found guilty of voluntary disorder  possibly chaos

nothing gets anything done like capitulation ceding defeat

                                                               but maybe  in short spurts

NO!

Shaddup Henry

NO!

Henry Miller his ceaseless harrasser he didnt misspell it harassment is more harassing if its spelled wrong  harrasser

Henry prodded him

I have a Mudder

a Fadder 

and a Prodder

Henry spat NO! in his face and reminded him of his words 

                                                               There was nothing I wished to do which I could just as well not do.  & he was also fond of Henrys  I had no need of God than he had need of me, and if there were one, I often said to myself, I would meet him calmly and spit in his face.

Henry was a spitter

he imagined a nonexistent God  to Henry  and a nonexistent he  to Henry  standing side by side with spittle on their faces 

it humoured him  perhaps more than it should have 

he couldnt speak for Godhe wouldnt speak for anyone that was their jobto stand up on their hind legs                                                                                                                                but had Henry spat in his face hed be getting off his back picking himself up out of the dirt 

he didnt care if Henry could get him laid by all the angels an whores in Heaven  or wherever Henry was hanging out now 

Millers writing goaded him 

                             he made him ashamed when he didnt have a pen and paper in hand ashamed that he didnt have a woman in his arms or on all fours in bed ashamed that he may have eaten his food and not taking the time to taste it taste the wine  ashamed that he wasnt drunk or stoned ashamed that his lungs werent bigger to breathe deeper to smell more to embrace odours and scents and aromas  ashamed of living because he couldnt live it more  time and life wasting   ashamed because Miller wasted life too  because it would kill us if we tried in the blink of the eye

he supposed Miller seduced him  he and Anais Nin 

Anais seduced him first

it was a heady imagined menage de trois

he was ripe for seduction  he ached for it

he was growing weary of seducing

when he kissed Anais  like sipping a goblet of red wine his head engulfed in the fragrant vapours  his tongue lost  searching  turning like a fish spawningbursting in soon-death its sex and eggs gushing out in the clear water onto the pebbled bed  blood milking twisting like ribbon in the quiet current  its body dying cell by cell quelling the innate circle of living 

he was incited by excess

distillation  he wrote 

                         I simply say what I think

having said so I think of it no longer

the thought I evacuate makes room for more

my brain like my bowels and bladder and lungs and heart

have to be emptied to be filled to be emptied an on anon

until death empties me completely

an finally  with a warm grateful spasm and squeeze

where in my bed on the floor in the earth

will gush the last vestige of what I truly was

and I  I will sorely miss not being able to sit among my things like a small curious child

to sort and pull through them

discovering again trembling  at my treasures  my funk and fuck

in them there will be my happiness and sorrow and horror

 

maybe my children will have the courage to look through them

smell the fragrances inside their odour

find and feel the small precious stones in the surly muck 

                                                                  maybe

maybe if their eyes didnt betray them

their senses and nerves steeled  not faint

and have a strong gut 

                             a distillation takes a very strong gut

 

2350,  Monday,  20  1. 92

1206,  Thursday,  1  10. 20

The Ronettes  Be My Baby  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gG7UXv8Zc5Q 

 

its just a nada day

Friday – before he conceived of Reggae Fridays -- 8 January 1993

he was recording Miles Davis off the radio a hep radio station K-PIG broadcasting out of Cayucos had a sister station in Freedom East Southeast ESE of Santa Cruz  he was a decent Boy Scout with a compass without a compass  indecent  

          he lacked a North Star

everyone said so

he dismissed them 

he was an Erratic who drifted on glacier sheets of ice deposited here and there and having nothing in common with his foster surroundings

if he found commonality he found it distasteful 

                                                he jumped aboard another ground-floating sheet of ice to new climes

 

he complained that night as he looked over fourfive projects that were still in rewrite-form that he didnt finish anything

he loved starting new projects 

                                 if women could carry pregnancies like he carried manuscripts only occasionally would a child be born  

               other children miscarriages or stillborn

but the child born would be born to a committed adult an adult who would kill to provide for them  

                                                                                                        amid so many uncommitted adults parents

brains have become so large to contain their possibilities probabilitiestheir choices that things innate bugs fish animals mammals perhapsplants do as human beings once did though they have been crowded mangled stunted strangled murdered  worse ignored 

                             if only human beings were blades of grass Leaves of Grass randomly  Do you think it so easy to have me become your lover? / Do you think the friendship of me would be unalloy’d satisfaction? / Do you think I am trusty and faithful? / Do you see no furthur than this façade, this smooth and tolerant manner of me? / Do you suppose yourself advancing on real ground towards a real heroic man? / Have no thought O dreamer that it maybe all maya, illusion?

if humans were blades of grass theyd be confused by their colour structure and purpose

our Big Brains certainly enjoy us 

                                 they have certainly ravished and enjoyed us

2216,  Monday,  20  1. 92

1414, Day-between-Two-Ts,  30  9. 20