Archive | August, 2013

Civil War Drama

1 Aug

Sometimes I like to think about what money can buy. New thick carpeting on the stairs. Vehicular upgrades, text books, science diet dog food. The bank of America shall not swallow the town of Dos Palos, California.I gotta warn ya; George Zimmerman is working check-out at the Safeway here. You know he’s a dangerous rouge. He’s not the last dangerous rouge or iconoclast we’ll see here tonight, and you can bet money on this. Hope I’m able to handle myself well. I’ve been hypomanic. Too many fuckers in one place might throw me.

Phineas Gage shops here; seen him a couple times. He’s on our side. Labor related injuries is his thing. Now listen, if I say “duck” , hide behind a couple of shopping carts. Watch for who’s  always hanging out near the ladies station. Some heinous cigars smoker’s in the liquor dept. Him I don’t know.  Smells like a rapist. Since none of the twenty -seven serious proposals to divide California in thirds ever saw the legislative light of day, we’re more ungovernable now than ever. You think it was bad in ’05? Hell, nothing has been done and now it’s too late. Do you think the cops in this town care about a couple of rapes?

In all fairness, it’s not only the men. Freeze- dried twats and the like strut around.Right-to-lifers whose old men beat them with impunity. And they’re all lily white. Jan Brewer’s niece Nopalita skulks around the deli. Who knows what her story is? No one will ever give her a voice. So fuck fairness.

“Duck!”

Now I hope they still have those saw blades. Aisle 7, I think. Had to Google the BTU’s of Fruitless Mulberry wood. We’ve got a winner! Those 2 trees should supply at least 3 cords, free for the taking for any and all with a wood stove on Golden Gate Avenue.

Let’s get the fuck out of here; We can probably avoid George; everyone else does. Now all I need is a bullhorn

PEOPLE OF DOS PALOS! NO ONE GIVES A FUCK! ON AUG 6TH 2013 THE PROPERTY AT (REDACTED) WILL BE HAVING A TREE-IN. THESE 40+ YEAR- OLD TREES WILL NEVER BELONG TO BANK OF AMERICA! THE MEMBERS OF THE QUIET GENERATION THAT LIVED HERE ARE BOTH DEAD! THEIR BABY-BOOMER CHILDREN WANT YOU TO HAVE THIS FIREWOOD!

Go get the chain saws.

If I love you or have ever loved you, your photo’s on my fridge. That’s how you’ll know.

Wisdom

1 Aug

I was living, quite lively upon the East Coast,
A lifestyle free of conformity.
A great beauty I was and I do not boast.
My friends were all students at M-I-T.

I stopped for no man, took life by the reins;
Stamina was taken for granted.
Yes, good looks I had and also some brains,
But the pain in my roots had me planted.

Tufts University was where I would go,
So pleased to get such a sweet deal.
They’d pull all four teeth ,above and below
For less than the price of a meal.

A student, the dentist, and earnest she was.
Nitrous Oxide a tool that she flaunted.
She just had to wait while the instructor was paused,
Then she gave me as much as I wanted.

When I left that fine school I was feeling no pain,
A blustery blue day in Boston.
My troubles began when I entered the train,
By a small angry woman, accosted.

The train was packed tight with tourists, you see.
Pushed close I was to this fella.
The woman could not reach the steps easily,
So she’d struck me hard with her umbrella.

“Lady, please!” I said to the amusement of all,
Giggles and laughs all around me.
If she struck me again I’d take a great fall,
And sadly, she spoke only Punjabi.

I arrived at my stop with refreshment in mind.
To Burger Kings Hall I was headed.
“Chocolate shake” S’all I said after standing in line.
That’s a choice I have always regretted.

The aftercare plan I still had in my hand
As I entered the pharmacy’s maw.
Then I read the instructions; no, I hadn’t planned.
It read: DRINK NOTHING AT ALL THROUGH A STRAW.

Good God, what next? and I read it again.
Bless that quick clerk, face dark with alarm.
As I handed her a ‘script for twelve Percodan,
She said, “This stuff, it works like a charm!”

When I entered my house, my roommates were startled.
“You sure look like hell!” one did joke.
My face, it was now all swollen and mottled.
“Please shut up and give me a smoke!”

It was not tobacco I wished to inhale,
But an herb as sweet as September.
By the hookah I rested, so wan and so pale.
The instructions! Shit! Now I remember!

Do not smoke. “Well, fuck it!” said I to myself
As I stumbled upstairs to the bedroom
I placed those tablets right there on the shelf.
With Fritz, my man, I’d lie there ‘til next noon.

The door cracked open at quarter to ten.
A stranger’s new face was before me.
My man lay beside me, since I don’t know when.
I lay trapped in that water bed valley.

Try as I may I could not rise from that bed.
The stranger, he had switched the light on.
He was looking to rob us, and so with great dread,
I attempted to wake up my zoned man.

“Is Diane here?” the stranger ad-libbed.
“No! Now you get out of here you shit heel!”
He looked at me wide eyed ;(I knew that he’d fibbed).
He saw me swollen and bruised and unreal.

He exited then, and I cried out for help,
Jostling Fritz harder and harder.
He wouldn’t wake up, laying limp as some kelp,
While the thief headed towards the house larder!

“Help, Help!” I did cry, but still, stir he did not.
My voice was as weak as a kitten’s.
We were so boldly robbed as I lay in one spot,
While two partners, our booty, were splitting.

I lay there all night, until morning’s bright light,
Angry and hurting all over.
Our roomie’s dog barked, as all was not right.
Kris made several attempts just to hush her.

“No, Britta!” she’d said, as I lay on that bed.
Yet the dog owed it’s duty to master!
I’d now take a pill for this pain in my head,
Then I’d crawl out of there just to blast her!

From the porch ,the fine bicycles, gone from our sight.
“And my knife, my best knife! All my nickels!”
“Don’t call the police! It’s a wrong they can’t right”
“We’re just fucked, yeah; we’re all in a pickle!”

I heard them complaining at the top of the stairs,
While I felt all around for the bottle.
None there to be found; it just hung in the air-
God -damned Fritz, all my pills, he had swallowed!

2007