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




He was 4ft.8   A rotund Milton scholar   He used fuck

as if he’d discovered it in an illuminated manuscript

Who the fuck knows what it means!  It’s a prose poem

It’s enigmatic  re: Cormac Mcarthy’s  Blood Meridian


C’mon head of English Dept. U of T   I want meaning

with my exegesis or what is it good for?  Absolutely

nothing   All of your Milton illusions  +biblical delusions

are not worth a mote in the eye of the Lord:  And God said to

Job  I’m fucking God!  That’s why I can torture you!  

(yes  head of English  said this)


If you cannot grapple with the deeper meaning of McCarthy

the greatest living writer of the 20th century  you are not worth

your substantial weight in salt or your 150K salary   Even my

brother  a legal scholar  at that  had an allusion to John Milton’s

Paradise Lost   It puts your pithy fucks to shame:  (from Animal

House  spoken by Donald Sutherland: * plse.see below)


Back in the day  1978  U of T  my English professors were elegant

men   Musty with bushy eyebrows   I fell hard for one of them   He

spake Chaucer with his golden tongue: Whan that Aprille with his

shoures soote, the droughte of March hath pierced to the roote..   

And yes  he tempted me to his rooms where   But I digress


Now to McCarthy’s text:

Men’s memories are uncertain and the past that was differs little from

the past that was not  (or as my 94 yr. old mother says: what was was)

Cormac adds a new twist to Hassidic wisdom  Not only is the past a was

no matter how hard you try  you cannot unlive your life


And no matter what you do  you will live out the same story  (Mother:

Man makes plans  God laughs)  ie., I’m Fucking God!   Do you really

believe in the sanctity +veracity of what happened 40 yrs. ago?  When

the Boss released Darkness  +you lived with a 24 yr. old husband  What’s

the difference anyway?   Now you live with another husband  64


And in the night your medical marijuana plays tricks   All husbands become

one   Cormac: Did you post witnesses? For where is yesterday?  Numerous

of my witnesses have fled   Some are dead   Those who remain grow foggy

And soon  their mittens will be affixed  with strings



Hear me man, he said. There is room on stage for one beast and one alone.

All others are destined for a night that is eternal and without name. One by

one they will step down into the darkness. Bears that dance, bears that don’t.

(Cormac Mcarthy  Blood Meridian 1985)


(I don’t dance for the honky amusements  Bob Dylan  1965)




SPRING  2018  

..if I could take one moment into my hands..

Bruce Springsteen   The Promised Land  1978

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