"It's about words, and words are all I have…"

Archive for the month “November, 2016”




Especially these days when soon to be Prez

D.J. Trump  embodies the worst of the national

character in a country founded on slave labour

+stolen land   Where white mobs lynched blacks

for entertainment  as white parents taught their kids

to cheer  (ditto Nazis)


In our own country  also founded on stolen land  +

degradation of First Nations  the military has finally

admitted a link between combat+suicide  High time

And with all of the skyrocketing hate in the world

it seems Halloween may need to be cancelled


Where once we avidly donned costumes from every

culture +creed  playfully walking the streets in safe

en masse revelry  today the extremists of the PC police

have decreed that such costumes are: racist  exploitative

+vile acts of appropriation


Brothers + Sisters!  Why are we fighting? shouted Lennon

His pulpit bloodstained  Bullets are equal opportunity  Rip

through flesh of peaceniks too


I point you in another direction  that of Lucy  whose skull+

bones were found 4 decades ago today   Lucy  ancestor of the

genus  Homo  named for her compatriot   The one in the sky

with diamonds   This skull buried in sediment 3.2 billion yrs.

ago  bore the hominin imprint  Our skulls the great equalizer


As an art form nothing superior  +enitrley PC!   To the untrained

eye no signs of: race  gender  sexual orientation  political affiliation

or religion  A clean slate  A sacred object that celebrates our oneness

Did we not walk out of the same place? Develop from the same oceanic



Was it not a more sophisticated hominoid who filled ships with chained

cargo thousands deep  laying in their own feces?  Built ovens diabolical

Spewed Jews across Europe  Or did the wise apes regress?  Beginning in

a lofty place on the savannah  hunting+gathering  through numberless

genocides  to a place in 2016  where a harmless evening of costume+candy

becomes the emblem of internecine hate


Perhaps we have given away our power to artificial intelligence  because we

are tired of the responsibilities that come with being  rulers  of the food chain

We’re bleary eyed from war yet hungry for more   Our Gods ravaged +bleeding

on crosses  +bayoneted beyond recognition in war theatres where: To be  or not to be?

is the question asked by 34 out of every 100,00 soldiers who suicides successfully




Fall 2016



I will soon be asked to speak on the subject

of a local psychic   She who traffics in false hope

The shadow side of holy    A dark art to be sure

She knows not what she does  Perhaps well intentioned

trimming her hemlock   +shrubbery   Perhaps a lover of



We sapient apes have been consulting oracles since the

beginning of time   Since the day on the savannah when

a greying ape lay down   They poked + prodded but it did

not rise   Soon maggoty silence   Bones cleaned of sinew


With this they knew  long before the apple+the snake  Forever

creatures unto death   Crouched in fear of the insatiable God

of the Mystery  They howled like dogs into the wind   All art a big

SOS  We are here  Rescue us  Resurrect the dead   We’ll give

you our firstborn son   Flay the skin   Pots of gold    Old ceremonies

bestowed immortality  upon the few


A fisherman   A boy by a Bodhi tree   But no such opiate for you+me

What makes us vulnerable to the dark artist?  to exploitation?  to abuse?

All sorcerers are intuitives  highly skilled observers  and so are most

pedophiles   I don’t need a medium to lead me to my father’s voice  It’s

in my DNA   Love is the glue  the grail   It fills the chalice  and makes him

ride again


His eyes were very blue and very beautiful half hid away 

in the leathery seams of his face. As if there were something

there that the hardness of the country had not been able to touch. 

(The Crossing  Cormac McCarthy  1995)





What’s holding you together these days?

All my friends are dead  said Pete Townsend  +that was

30 yrs ago  before Lou  Bowie  +Leonard    Mose Allison too

Died yesterday  at 89   It’s been a precarious year for music men

members of minorities  +citizens of war torn countries


It is the year of the working class white man   Populism

nationalism  racism  creeping along ruptures in the

culture  Up through tectonic plates  making a bee line for

Pennsylvania Avenue    Somehow the ground shifted  as we

debated ad nauseam whether the internet shredded human

love   The glue  holding our tribe together  by a thread


We mourned too  the death of hope  in trenches filled with

vermin  +Germans  +mustard gas  about a hundred years ago

Around the time that Freud belaboured the point that: Sometimes

a cigar is just a cigar   And sometimes it is a racist billionaire

hiding in plain sight


These people are NOT your friends  working-class white man   No

matter how many lumpen carrots they dangle    And in the waning

days of the free world  populist exit strategies abound   For those of us

approaching the final third of boomer un-glory  we recall slogans like:

Never Again!   We  who clung to them  so fervently


So that when they hand me the yellow star of David  I will count on my

neighbours to don one too  And in this sea of yellow stars  they will never

find the real Jews   Yesterday the Donald was made an honorary Cossack

by Putin  this  the outfit who pillaged with impunity   Razing the Russian shtetls

My high cheekbones attest to the Cossack kiss  administered to a long dead

ancestress who struggled in a ditch  near Vitebsk



The alt-right: a group of mostly young white men who believe in white

supremacy; oppose immigration, feminism, and multiculturalism; delight

in harassing Jews, Muslims, and other vulnerable groups. There is every

reason to be concerned that someone who willingly trades in hatred will be

a key part of the next administration.  (Mr. Bannon/Breitbart)


The next President will be an unprincipled bully. It is doubtful Mr. Bannon or

anyone else can control Donald Trump. And that’s what America and the world 

should truly be worried about.


(Globe & Mail  editorial  Novemeber 17, 2016)


Late Fall 2016







Olga Hepnarova  a mass murderess  rejected the

insanity defence   and so do I   Soon I will speak on

the subject of psychics  unless the young filmmaker

reconsiders  after paying special attention to my non

specific grin  +hollow eyes


He may do better with his father  an expert on exorcism

who always implores one to: answer questions with questions

He tests me regularly  with photos of a bloody Linda Blair’s

penchant for crucifix as dildo   He was a child who placed rags

in the furnace  for which he was beaten with a hockey stick

This led to nocturnal emissions  + a lifelong hard on for  Gordie Howe

who he stabbed with a pen at our local mall


All in all  he remains a man who leans toward the macabre  lately

wearing balaclavas  even when travelling to soulless hotels in

Eastern Ontario   He was once accosted by a huge buck  who chased

his young Beatle loving son to the front door  He knows that Dionysus

takes many forms  +considered the sighting an initiation into the

ecstatic rites  where men must fearlessly face the Maenads  who would

tear them from limb to limb


But more recently he has the need for the thread of Ariadne  A labyrinth

replacing the buck at his front door   And with the courage of an Argonaut

and the fierce  kill you with my bare hands  mentality  of Judah the Maccabi

He faces the minotaur  joie de vivre intact  +a heart that weighs not an ounce

more than a feather*



*(in ancient Egypt this guaranteed immortality)




Late Fall 2016   For JMA



The week went from bad to worse   A vulgarian

will be President of the  free  world in a mere 67

days   And as Obama buried the hatchet in a show

of faux unity  yellowish Hitler looked scared   Perhaps

even dissociated  i.e., placing himself outside the oval

office via a fight or flight psychic mechanism  sine qua non

of higher apes


He went to a place back in his childhood where he reigned

supreme  Large +ungainly  a bully sent to military school

by 13   Oh Donald don’t you weep  don’t you moan   His skin

the burnished tone of the coward’s belly


Then on Thursday the music died  that is  the version of the

music  ravaged voiced +luxuriant   More recently an ecstatic

confession  in growls   Oh Leonard Cohen do weep + do moan

for the minions left behind


Who without your assurances that life is a gory riddle with no 

solution  will continue to chase their tails seeking answers   And

illusive holy grail elixirs to rub on the gaping puncture wounds

sustained by the Barthe brothers  attacked+asphyxiated by a Rock

python in 2013    Answers are for sissies     God hides in questions



RIP Leonard Cohen    You lived long enough to see yellow hitler

elected President  + missed by mere days the appointment of an alt-

right anti-semite as chief strategist  +senior counsellor  


You want it darker. We kill the flame.

Leonard Cohen  final album  November 2016



November 2016





I cancelled my fee for a social media course

today   Only on  the facebook  briefly   Under an

alias  put a gorgeous Mardi Gras Indian  in pink

feathers  where my face should have been


Thought I could figure out Instagram on my own

and within 3 seconds of hitting  sign up here   I was

followed   I then spent the next sweaty hour hitting

delete account  


Why do pendulums swing?  Something to do with

gravity which also intervenes in jowls +circles under

eyes  But today is Halloween +the barriers are thinning

as we approach Dia de Muerta  when dead friends  +

relatives attend picnics all over Mexican cemeteries


This does not include Facebook friends  or Instagram

followers  no matter how many orgasms they are capable

of having   Only enfleshed relationships need apply   And

yes  Monica+Bill will definitely meet on the other side


Cemeteries aren’t really the problem though  it’s your

stalkers on social media  who hover in the interstices

between man + machine   A flesh-less form of intimacy

sans sacred substances   +moans     Opiate of the alone





Halloween  2016




I fought with dark-eyed young men all weekend  as my

blue-eyed husband stood by   Afraid that I would beat

them:  You’re not leaving my house  bastards  until my

water is hot  and my tank revivified    Hot water illusive

in stucco townhouse  waning days of Fall  before the fall


Affriah  a plumber from Nairobi  tells me  it’s all by the

book lady  as though his divining is biblical   But what I

really want is some certainty   The hard passage is getting

to me   This week I woke to read that Michael Buble’s son

now 3  has been diagnosed with cancer   How can this be?


I’d imagined cancer reserved for plebes like you +me    One

rarely reads about stars +royalty succumbing to the disease

Perhaps they endure theirs quietly  secretively   so that we

continue to see them as super-heroic untouchables   Safe in

large beds by the sea


While the scourges known to the rest of us flourish in apartments

with dank hallways  +urine soaked carpets   In suburban ghettos

with trimmed hedges  +jaded dogs  who do not howl at the moon

Instincts of man + beast  AWOL   No possibility of survival in coming



Where feral dogs will be loosed upon cities  Clean up the riff raff   So

much cheaper than walls   The new siren’s call: chortle of lumpy man

in a santa tie   Orange skin  evil twin  of Adolph?  America seduced by

Solvenian model wife  in pink pop tops   who will make America clean


Rid it of all that is mean   She who worked illegally in her first months

Land of the free    Cormac McCarthy   America’s greatest living writer

would call them  gibbering apes   Now walking up Pennsylvania Avenue

gilt chairs carried by a legion of deplorables


A legion of horribles, hundreds in number, half naked and clad in the

skins of animals.  As once men did believe, they may believe again.

(Cormac McCarthy   Blood Meridian  1985    The Crossing  1995)





Fall 2016    Save Civilization  Vote for Hillary





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