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

old ludicrosities re-visited


Now 1/2 empty  in shimmering dilapidation   remembering

the days of kittenish anticipation   Almost spoiled the sweet

Thanksgiving spuds    Too much chaos in old psyche  to use

utensils with care   Sauce does not fair  well   ginger allspice

nutmeg  in heaps  tastes earthy  old  unsweet   (throw the

orange motherfuckers out!   my inner poltergeist screams)


How To Re-Invent Yourself at 60  For Dummies   the book is

called   1/2 of me wants to crawl under a rock   1/4 wants to

eat cake   1/4 wants to soar  once more  before  mortis  motherless    +terrific



In a strange room you must empty yourself for sleep. And before you are

emptied for sleep, what are you. And when you are emptied for sleep, you

are not. And when you are filled with sleep, you never were. I don’t know

what I am. I don’t know if I am or not. 

William Faulkner   As I Lay Dying  1930



*OCTOBER  2014* tour over..fuck cake+rocks+soaring..+covid

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