Friday, April 28, 2017


As mist blown on the breath of G-d.

faded wisps of me.

I welcome this.

In space time adrift.

Not yet @ peace, but going there.

On strong Meds yes.

I do not know what is real.

...this pleases me.


"For real Post Op Story #59"

Pain again...quiet, but there. Meds of all sorts. None any fun. Like most Americans I imagine I'm an Opioid Junkie now. That or at least at the ort cloud of such.

Here see I've forgotten why I'm posting.

This happens more, and more. I'm concerned a bit...we'll see where that goes. Cold still. Gut cold. Also sleeping in smaller installments once more. At it's worse it was one to two hours at a time. A few days at 10 to 12, and going back to small bite sized pieces.

I'm so fascinated watching my body heal. It's doing things I've never experienced before. Tired so tired. I took a hot very hot shower, and put on  fresh things...always a joy that.

I'm saving energy to haul my stuff to the laundry in a few days. Till then I'm watching things on Netflix. A dear friend is sharing her subscription with me. Oh how good people are.

That, and trying to read.

No politics no scary more of that. Had another go at Donne's Holy Sonnets. How the language has shifted in just a handful of centuries. What will folks make of Ginsberg in just three or four hundred years. How will "Howl" scan to them. 

Also reading James Baldwin's sermons. What would he, and Donne have made of each other. Would they find kindred streaks of fire in each others words?

I like to think on such things.

Back to sleep,...loves ya all. XOX

"For Real Post Operative Stories # 58"

Yeah the above is me now...for just now. Summer I hope will be better.

I feel so cold. You know how old folks always complain, and drive everybody crazy. It's a damned heatwave out, and they go on about being "cold".

Well now 'I'm' there too.

Having half my guts cut out might have something to do with it, but still. Progress at first with post-operative medical matters. However now it seems to be settling into a rather long term trench war. A very damp chilly one at that.

Slow mending.

Sharp pains much less,...they still show up to say hello. However not a major ongoing matter. ....just cold confused weak, and as always nuts.

Stay Tuned.

Thursday, April 27, 2017


An old friend is a social worker helping specifically the Homeless of the South. We have the occasional back, and forth on this.

As I just said to him:

"The crime is that we have allowed it for so long, and seem more that willing to put up with it for some time to come. It is a very quiet kind of murder of both the bodies, and souls of our brethren.

One day I hope to read the story of "The American Era of Homelessness" 1978~2040?

How it began. All the social underpinnings. The gaps of both morality, and politics public, and private. It's evil height then it's slow so very slow ending. The epilogue alone would be biblical in content, and length."

( Above is the only portrait of myself which I know of from my year in what I called "The Outside".   Enlarge. Look to my eyes. The drifting bleakness of them.

That's still me. I'm still there. Like Vets of War I'm still there. 

As long time readers know I kept a photo journal of that time, and posted many images here. I may gather them up in one place eventually).

Stay tuned.

"Stop me if you've heard this One"

I saw the Angel of Death.

Her Obsidian Sword with Great Powers roiling within.

She has slain 'whole worlds' with this.

How simple to smite just more old man.

Yet she spared me.

Speared me, and pointed to a horizon a future where like billons of others I would have a purpose for the good.

(...the above came to me on waking very early this morning.) does so much these days.

Stay Tuned.

Wednesday, April 26, 2017

"Post Operative Fever Dream # 38"

You mean I went through all this fucked up insane crap...nearly got killed went flying through the air crashed into this weird hell hole had to hang out with a bunch of mutant two foot tall sociopaths had to crap in the woods got ripped off by the tin guy, and that neurotic lion, got chased by flying demon monkeys.
Bleeping witches after me got fucked up on poppies got bamboozled by that phony wizard guy, was screwed over by everybody, and everything in his weird ass Emerald City.

….and you got the ‘frigging nerve’ to tell me I could 'a got out ’a this nightmare just by clicking these damned stupid shoes together?!

Stay Tuned.

"For Real Hospital stories,... #28"

Having dreams, and flash backs of my recent surgical fun. So I'm lying there, and there's this guy in a faded "Guns 'n Roses t-shirt, and an old chefs hat with his arm up to the elbow fishing around in my guts.

With his free hand he's chugging down from a jug of "Wild Turkey". He notices I'm awake, and sez, "...How ya doing there sport?" Before I can answer he gives me a swig of whiskey saying, Here ya go...cures all that ails ya!"

A few shots spill into my open guts to which the "Chef" sez "...don't worry 'bout that it'll help clean shit out in there. The anesthesiologists whom I hadn't noticed till then falls over.

"...There  he goes again" sez my chef.

"Our pal here likes to take his work home if ya gets my drift."

The surgical theatre looks like a "Clean Room" at NASA. This concerns me. I'm wondering if they has plans for some sort of covert "Old sick Black guys in space program".

Again before I can ask some guy in an ancient Ming outfit comes in banging a gong. This with some other fella playing Jimmy Hendriks riffs on guitar. 

Hey ya can't make this shit up folks.

Anyhow over the crackling speaker there something about how it's "Opium Break". That, and the whole crowd of doctors students, and tourists that was hanging around all spilt through a four foot high door off to the side there.

My Chef calls back saying the procedure would "keep" till they all stumbled back.

I felt reassured, and passed out from the pain.

(...did I mention that hot-dog stand that was there?)

Stay Tuned.

"Mexico Glance"

(...above the real map of Mexico.)

A twenty second history of the U.S./Mexican relationship . First off we stole half their country. Then the damned French tried to install a Hapsburg Emperor on them. From there Mexico was off to the races. A later revolution was the icing on the bitter cake.

Been in chaos ever since.

(...above that Hapsburg guy the French tried to dump on Mexico.)

The current U.S. demand for drugs which is causing a break down of order, and general slaughter in Northern Mexico ain't helping.
Btw we've been treating the indigenous Mexicans like shit in their own... historic lands forever.

However there is Change if not Hope on the way. Mexico is gaining it's lost territory back "Block by Block" a Los Angeles Hispanic D.J. sez. 60% of greater LA is Mexican the rest of the former Mexican States are now or soon will be Hispanic majority.

So the Gringos can build all the Berlin Walls they want. Try to expel 11,000,000 people like the Nazis did...and btw that makes us look seriously bad to the world.

...but I digress.

California, and the general Southwest is becoming Mexican again. You plan to move west? Learn Spanish.
Yeah sure there tons more details, but this is all ya need to know.

Stay Tuned.

Tuesday, April 25, 2017

"???!!!" ,...this s a re-run. I like this story

Okay here's a conversation stopper. I was abducted by them Saucer guys back in 1955. From my Aunt Sybil's back yard. Eh, Auntie is the one in the middle in the third photo that's me in the second. And that's Swedish jet fighters taking down one of them weird annoying bastards in 1953 or so.

Good shoot'n guys!

These family photos taken at about the time of the, incident.

Both Aunt Sybil, ( center),and I were taken by these weird robot guys. We ended up in what I thought was a big airplane hanger...I had seen a few by then. Ya see they didn't shoot you in them days for wandering around airports.

There's me above at he time of the gleeful incident.

Anyway this big robot guy was carrying me to who knows where...I didn't know what they did to Auntie...still don't. Anyway I ended up in what looked like a room full of giant washing machines. Hey that's what they looked like to my five year old self from dream recall.
They gave me a bath.


Yeah I don't know why either.

Next thing I know I'm with Aunt Sybil again, and we're looking down on the City. We're flying over the Brooklyn Bridge...thing is I remember details like the fact from above the bridge looked rusty needed a paint job, and serious repairs...which it did at the time.


Next we're in the kitchen, and Auntie is cooking dinner.
Years later I asked her about that. About how could we have the same dreams. That's when she told me about the mysteries she experienced in her life...ghosts, visions, music in the sky. Basically all the stuff that folks do perceive, but mostly never talk about...for obvious reasons.

Me I have no shame as I just posted somewhere. In fact I told the story on the air about how I called the radio station's manager saying I couldn't come to work because I was having flash backs of my UFO abduction.

WBAI radio,,  for all it's current sins 'is' the only job on Earth where your boss will give you time off because of UFO flash backs. She even asked if I wanted to talk to a UFO post abduction counselor...whom she knew.


Good grief.

Anyway I think them space guys have been messing with my family for years. My brother had some of that missing time jazz both when he was in Vietnam, and here at home. That on the highway at night upstate. Other relations mention stuff from time to time.
Granted most of this is bullshit shit, but there's that 2% or so that ain't. Who or what them folks are...who the bleep knows...excerpt maybe the NSA, and the Phone Company. ...and 'they' ain't talking.

Stay Tuned.