back to (ir)regular programming

re previous 3 or 4 posts: I had some 'jackass issues' I had to work out. That's all good now.

There is nothing I can say that a mule wouldn't grunt at, nothing to loan that a deaf man wouldn't shout at. We are spitting in a brass spittoon, we are tune-loonies asking Moonies for advice; how to follow Reverend Moon, how to fumigate for lice. I am a child of sunshine and green grass, I have that mixture of potions up my ass. We can straddle edgelines, debate, we can fulminate, congregate, stay up late. We can pray. I can follow you into a sewer, you can climb with me to Everest. You are you, and you are the best.

I saw a painting of the sky. It blue me away.

I was under a bridge by the black creek, to photograph teenage graffito; I wondered at those lovers who came before; it was sunny, I was playing hooky - man it was neato. A path abandoned beside a river, the water quick and I was eager. I don't swim in early summer, I need warm springs before I take the plunges; it's so unseasonably chilly, and wading in a rushing rapid is a crazy kind o' silly.

I'm a pauper, I never buy new clothes. Still looking for soap, I wash ok with a garden hose.

This town has too much traffic, I can't fight it, I can step aside; it beats me into grey-brown dust. I become what I hate. One day in five I'm finding my legs. When I get my legs, you will hear about it; when my spine heals I will leap.

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