Eudora Version 1.4.2b16>
’’’’’
Time after time ugly memories come barfing in.
Lousy dinners. Early deaths. Signs of interest that escaped you. Absences once longed for
pain you now. You remember the urgency of dinner, that sorry slab of umpteenth potassium
shoveled into the floor.
This one in Gilbert done John Gilbert Keith. Down to him. Should the GCN radio network him
and him and him and mainstream media government coverups and
anyone answer is a notice when he's on his you on the GCN radio and I wasn't as you got a
jamb can extremely important transmission lined up for you
today it is Monday the 33rd day of January to me here Lord Wellington the next three hours
and while Iran is now found to shut down straight of war Moses prepares oil embargo in the EU banker dictatorship for this not
really the countries of Europe they all hate their bureaucratic dictators and can't get out
of it we had a
member
of
the
EU
parliament
from
England
joining
us
today
break
that
down
the EU has
agreed Iranian oil embargo their main source of money for the country which is an act of war
Iran's is illegal and lots red or most and that means is double you and all our At all with
about 10! Got behind don't you are will what is it good for a lot for the New World order
the general public absolutely nothing but the banker's oldest finance all sides of the like
the always do and use it as an excuse to crackdown on Islamic now the
TSA lies even when the truth would suit them about you remember they said they were
groping hundred 12-year-olds last three years no matter how many videos come out now is that
will. Or if there were the old women that they were strip searching
amazingly hot strip searching of and videos were released via subpoena male strip searching and you will is don't strip searching the we
apologize that guys that came out last week we from the article in the break of the TSA
apologize for strip searching a lady because (was a liar) they
said it's also manacled them or agent considers the radiation from the scanners that John
Hopkins radiology department goes study actually shows massive
increase in cancer is the forces of cancer-causing are partisan
causes cancer now while I mention all of that both an out-of-control unconstitutional
federal power grab down the highways of America and they only like to
go in the pants and at least like to squeeze on the outside
your wife breast your genitals I hear his job last year are now in over year ago
November 2010 the big story carried on the Drudge Report on Paul Klotz groped by TSA calls for boycott airlines remember that well once the
big news today breaking you all held by TSA at Nashville airport nights what his father and
him also age 3 and Paul both tweeted that they Dr. land and that he was held there and in
front on the airport but now the TSA is simply throwing out the we didn't entreating you
really don't just I didn't know the pants of Miss USA decided on groped children are 12
still do it just like they didn't turn the scanners off during an opt out demon turns out
they did just like they lights and radiation was a coming of the
machines and cited a report saying the radiation was causing
cancer and lives of the report showed the opposite a culture of surer deception
course where the enemy and we are to be diseased by the TSA perverts with their little live
globs they don't change during hundreds of searches a day on record were to take our shoes off and walk for the athlete's foot and flesh eating
bacteria. Here it is breaking landfall held by TSA family also have an article out
via Steve Datsun ramble today by TSA patdown standoff called out in full force in prison
planet will break it all down but frankly I get Iran news little bit
bigger than that redacted LOI knowledge to myself my family in the followers they
want to relate to you and your family that we are intensifying our efforts against the
globalist on every front in full force leading the fight against the technocrats but we
can't do that without your help in getting the feel comfortable
stickers and T-shirts you will wake up people in your area and support our
information as we move to the next level we need your help to spread the word like never
before they wish to hide themselves during this tectonic battle
between the forces of freedom darkness you are the response to the globalist technocrats in
their program of global eugenics dehumanization and ultimate extermination or is here is the
info war (1776 versus the mindset of 1984) take charge of your
health to all naturally debate of health products from the new affinity health products from
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all-natural products permitted women 12 AM life health or did you ever
think to bring water for drinking the 21st century? record foreclosure rates for it
on yours for neighbors thankful for the unemployment's ruling on and placing your child's
name on the Angel tree in hopes of Christmas gift along with thousands of other Americans
everything for future yield is out of control fact is in all
this craziness is only one thing you can control your greatest dependency food supply make
2012 year you take control by getting prepared for the direct introduces the best way to
build supply in the 21st century in a 21 day supply of food free with purchase take back
control and 2012: remember you can bet your life on the eve of direct from his central Texas
command center behind enemy lines the information war continues his Alex Jones and the GCN
radio network morning and on the same as: there dying in their
lives are moving the TSA in Tennessee has held US Sen. rand Paul and they put him
through a scanner and then said they wanted at the secondary search widget I've been at the
airport they do a lot going on the naked body scanners and he
said that know you're not in a groping I just want to be wanted is normal, be taught me at
the old in the old Ace will be inducted into prison if that was the upsetting thing was being groped having someone
touched your genitals but but now it's a sacrament of land of a
coward, the sleigh and now in the same state funny I epicenters Tennessee but also in
Illinois and Texas is gone Dallas also all of Florida you pull up to a checkpoint and their
state police U.S. Army sometimes more than 15 agencies run by TSA very
little bosses and the families are jerked out of the cars and
the groping begins this on the news you can a lot by just just TSA checkpoint
flooring ICC small children with the with new potbellied man rubbing
all over their bodies can't imagine you pull up to a hard-core see criminal checkpoint that has nothing to do with keeping
you safe. Breaking are well and are. You want for the children and you want people are just
go to start standing up to and that's what they want they want to get a flight going to the
American people so that all the criminals and scum that run the
federal government to get a real war going in and local cops marched out to do their
dirty work equivalent to jump in front of 18 wheelers going on her bows in our master all
the Associated Press and Reuters all of it Friday I cover Yash Ammonite leaners on the sunny
radio show all the top federal prosecutors to plead the fifth unfastened veriest there'll
hotline shipping the guns and Mexico shipping the drugs back and it's all in all the federal
documents they declared national security it's a dealing group of criminals Karen on the how
ruthless tyrants and estates in the terror attacks and their listing the American people of
the terrorists and their single secretly arrest is not just. Like all and it's totally a legitimate and evil and now it's a US Sen. is all over
national television and in and a know who he is we're going to grab
your private parts pound now the pilots they said a year and have an amazing you want
were just a boycott stopped flying and him then again maybe was in the news model these guys
were veterans Air Force veterans you name it tough guys summer Vietnam veterans they would
get physically ill or they would get angry or they would actually on the bathroom and vomit
and me so upset that they could not fly and so is it okay will have a separate screening for
the pilots and the people because it across the floodplain on as we only to grab your crotch now why would full-grown men
vomit belligerently something I in nine reply Las Vegas last year in over four months
ago after being out there do interviews and Jesse Ventura and the because we were expecting
a private rocket based on the substance of their private space program for in Vegas is one
reason are out there and climb back out our views body scanner but was about 9 AM is really
tired had any sleep myself to sit with a slight mental the guys that
don't touch my genitals I will see if you are Alex Jones was leadership and while the guy was doing it he was enjoying the domination it was
ridiculous I was wearing a tight T-shirt and tight jeans and you can see every part of my
body and he was rubbing on my chest and going just go check it in Michigan him and him and
go right in your way spent her and I had met out till of your 3 AM where the Johnstone
Oliver Stone sign and Ventura son Tyrell and I didn't have one hell of a headache I
rationalize it as well just come and go through this prisoner of war
prisoner induction think house is still missing goes down there
the family jewels but the the point is this is all about total domination okay you
were in touch with his knowledge the okay we just gotten information from Randall's office
this is breaking I know card from working from home lately until about noon we we get
curtain air right now Odyssey won't get the source and Paul's office but this is breaking in
the Drudge Report's Odyssey I want this oh I just got it right as you
told me my dog got it just give this occurred with an update on the distance from
Randall office source will sleep with that man falls of sources tell us there was an anomaly
or a blip in the scanner reading with Jesse with most people get it's all about more more
groping and ran was called aside for a second screening the offered to rescan was only given
the option of a patdown the refuse the patdown was taken aside in the tank is directly from
Sabina's office on a given source is recently been released and is currently on a plane to
DC we're in contact with the staff and should be speaking to him sent I don't know that's in
the on air but this is just a will erupt from a senior staffer was written on the phone
conversation and I'll talk to that staffer during the break here we go to break moment the
point is this is all about completely breaking your well and it's about the 2+ million
people on a no-fly list no criminal record no judge no jury you can find out why Iran left
it's just you don't fly now you don't drive the TSA has set on C-SPAN one back almost 2
years ago that they would have highway checkpoint you have to get their approval to have a
job you let the federal card now they had the unions opt into that and make union members do
it all of the US major unions him to get TSA approval for a job the TSA is going to be the
new total federal bureaucrat class that commands your local police against and who'll do
anything there called and see you as an absolute and and are going to stick their hands down
your five-year-old in front of you and smile they're going to grab your wife's breast and
smiled there going to take your baby's diaper off their going to let you know your absolute
scum and sign up and property taxes and income taxes and the IRS with its own fate court
stealing people's property in the rich are exempt and you are offshore but only the elite
are allowed to the offshore and they almost 0 tax you are going to be absolutely dominated
with force inoculations government American Medical Association called for last week, for
you shouldn't kids up without parental consent it's happening and they will start arresting
people and saying well nobody really knows were built when he was permanently detained but
we're sure he deserved it and it's meant to be a big chilling effect which is rounded Jesse
crazy eyed goons lying around everywhere on power trips pal is going to be released on this
nation as we go into total depression and just every form of depravity you can imagine and
body scanner is everywhere mobile tribes total control cancer rates diabetes exploding
neurological disorders reporting dying all around you and the government is now everything's
fine as they soft kill the population is totally sick this is a new world order on Paul
Klotz groped by TSA calls for boycott of airlines member that happened a few years ago I
flashback to the daily Mail is also the New York daily news that will but that one screen
did that but in TSA apologizes to grandmother's New York daily news is that even in New York
but there is daily mail TSA apologizes for strip searching to grandmothers at JFK see they
went ahead and started lawsuits since for your request in an and him were subpoenaing stuff
they said you know what we did take 85 and 89-year-old women with Sherman and Lenora
Zimmerman in the back rooms would take a close off the wheel Khaleda strip-searched remember
they said Johns Hopkins says there's no radiation from these the actual Johns Hopkins
reports that it use radiation and does cause cancer this is how they operate this is what
they do this is how they deceive remember three years ago two years ago a year ago remember
that every time they get caught in this video groping a two-year-old 10 or whatever
particular pants off of taking a three-year-old son off everybody's like why why do some
weird per rubbing all over there their skin a take a look at shirt and pants on fire by your
rubbing all over him like why it's so obviously ridiculous it so honestly perverted so
honestly pedophile training and so Odyssey training kits and perverts can do this job the
TSA conducts as we don't strip-searched before 12 never have analytical all your right we
are in stock now you're right. Now it's all lying to you because they see you as their enemy
it's an occupying force to drive a car to have a job to live your life you like to have
their approval thereof of the threat fusion centers there over your place there over
everything and already at a bus station train stations and down the highway you pull out for
you want and here they are with their hands and got in Florida man fallen people.
Going on in the chamber showers or something funny is taught
on a terrorist. Feeling a you did you ever think you been reading water of taking the 21st
century record foreclosure rates for home in on yours for neighbors thankful for the
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federalizing all our local police
I FEEL LIKE I AM
STRANGLING A
BOWLING
BALL
Isn't she remarkable?
She is a dandy chip of softened glass stroked obliquely by charming spiders and impolite
snakes. You met her at a park, lying among insects and toreadors, both of you evading park
rangers' shovels while threatening to hitchhike your separate ways to wildness. Misquoted
hippy song lyrics and puzzling sexual innuendos punctuated gawky conversation from
post-adolescence, asshole bicyclists invading the serenity with needless spew of obscenities
as screaming babies did the same with propulsive projectile vomit of previous hours'
scrambled eggs. "I am working off a hangover," she mumbled through groaning tones of
saxophone music lilting in from nearby armies of sunken ships. "I am working as little as
possible," came your wittiest remonstrance, making her laugh a suitably mediocre chuckle.
Conversations sprinkled and snorted, rising from dysfunctional recesses of sleepy brains.
"I've got to get to Denver" you announce to no response, comforting your deadened wit with
self-serving assumptions that suns will come out tomorrow and that God's fire hydrant rains
on impoverished nations of the mountain. "I expect snow at the vineyard" she counters,
demanding bafflement but earning none, both of you equally unimpressible for all but
impossible conversations: She: "Does a calendar have condoms in its pockets?" You:
"Contraceptive stores are evenly distributed across nervous laughter." She: "Someone told me
crayons melt in the hands of unwanted children." You: "Have you seen the changing patterns
of youthful neediness?" She: "I have seen obscure beers and wines rise from deserved
obscurity." You: "I have seen bottomless nations run from naked performance artists." She:
"I see holy masturbation filling unwatched frames of 1970s pornography." You: "I smoke holy
hubris from the breath of poverty's latecomers." She: "You must sound different in
quadrophonic stereo." You: "Loneliness sounds different when your bartender leaves the
tomb."
Sockpuppet of a generation,
your fabric grown stiff by prickles of dust and neglect,
I use your obfuscation for education,
I use your flowery talk as substitute for wildness,
loitering instead on needless drawl of hillbilly vernacular,
filled with unprovable claims of royalty in your lineage and
sadness at standing the ground of causes you doubt with
urgencies inspected at random by grade school bartenders.
As I sit
on this ineffectual springboard sobriety's dampness trickles through billions of my truck
stops and thousands of failed pursuits. I housed a flowerless garden on your balding head,
stroking at cancers and jilting the folly that pioneered glossy constraints. Hurt but nimble
we filtered our anxieties through wintery coatrooms, shuffling our dismembered hands through
strangers' pockets, sacs of air left pretty enough to cloister but emptied to the point of
philistine loss. A father turns a french fry into a nuclear power plant. A scientist turns a
chicken into a balsa-wood angel. A suicidalist turns an onion into a bullet. Changes asunder
rip tidal frowns down hurried spaces, gibberish competing with listless vibrations of life
on memory's undrawn familiarity. A t-shirt used as a spreadsheet links itself to obnoxious
triumph of early television westerns, paying dearly for its unusual needs and accommodation,
hulking through waste and bulleted fists while craggy additions to families of turmoil belch
and crow like ludicrous science fiction animals with human intelligence and constant
nakedness. A counterpoint of drowning treads its water humbly, blunting the glaze of history
with disasters unrecorded by any source except the gusts of busdrivers' halleluiahs and
viper-like stains of nugatory facial tics.
Listen!
The World Is
At Peace.
Nobody
Notices.
-
River
The river flows hot and dry,
spraining the back of America's
silent highways and graveyards.
Unseen clocks tick times of days,
blinking seconds to vacant streets and
bones of time. These nimble travelers
live clichés of disintegrating memories.
I dream in the power of ghostly heat.
I look down to see the river in your face.
Hobo bungle. Bolo Stumble.
Novel rumble.
|||| |||| |||| |||| |||| |||| |||| |||| |||| |||| |||| | Great way to replicate the dashboard,
bonehead. |
o)o) o)o)
o)o) o)o) o)o) o)o) | Disasters have a way of attracting
disasters. Magenta soils of blind washing machines.
Terrible
vibrations in a fractured police officer’s brow stand guard against trivial
recitations of national flags and street naming conventions. |
Museum Slits cut into matchbook covers let handwritten notes limp
free, the stories flipped and historical situations scraped on inferior parchment never
intended for immortality but rising to the occasion as history's eyelets tremble shut,
omitting kingdoms and forgetting the triumphs on a spotless course of jumbled families'
blinded interventions. Noteworthy on the frameless paintings are broomswept trash heaps of
naked density representing the passing grimaces of judgmental strangers, the talentless and
blandly spited accusations of others' inferiorities which reveal instead the weaknesses of
the accuser, she whose scripted path through gravity resembles the airballs juggled in the
vacuous backwash of uninfluential youth, an unmowed childhood regurgitating its weedy
surroundings with few heroics and fewer seeds of menace. Passages of elevator music litter
the halls, the squinches and arches elevate the flotsam into painless conciliation. The
uneasy stampede of immoral conversations boils north of everything, drastically north of the
windless libraries and falsely north of the cowardly circus-hunters breeding hazy rubber
bones for crazed and starving dogs. I don't know what you said to the strangers swinging
past on the brittle beards of queens but the substance of the words was freshest in the
hungry flash of religion that clapped its hand on puzzled cue. Pretenses and flounderings of
celebrity virtuosics remain cradled for all times by the occupation of starving canvas, the
importation of life's routine numbnesses into the whetted mouths of banished vagrants.
Weedless houses, abandoned for centuries, draw crumbs and chuckles from sensually opened
bottles of cheap liquor, from toxically cheap wine served to quench the thirst of a bi-polar
brain, nourishing the diagnosis du jour with nothing -- nothing -- while prospering on
Monopoly money at a beggar's casino. The 16th-century rainwater pounds your thighs and feet
but your head and face stay clear of the conflicting apocalypses brawling across
generations. Bodies of effortless dismay streak like prowlers exposed by gotcha journalists
and thousands of hidden cameras, cameras blasting mundane failures and wasteful exertions
into the public places of starving joy. Everything is public, I say. Everything is public.
You cannot agree but you do anyway, passing around the noseless faces from textbook history
for dichotomous inspection and the limber ridicule of India rubber smearing blobs of erased
history across the palaces of your wandering empire. Dreamless lineages of inspiration
perspire along the nodes of education, nibbling on flimsy commentary of jobless law
enforcement constables thrice revealed by a soup of decrepit pages from ancient manuscripts
dribbed and drabbed from failing co?dination of papyrus and forest fibers. The delirious
timbre of anxiety labors its path through infancies to retirement, funded by granite-faced
women whose faces hover over the dial tone, rising from the comical friezes of paper
currency, those whores of decision-making, the riotous gluttony that eats itself. Our
comprehension of matters diminishes so we amuse ourselves with babytalk, gibberish words and
nonses invented to impress the tourists into thinking we are not Americans. A senseless hoax
of invigorating mental acrobatics used to mutantly generate phony words and
intellectual-sounding pablum. "Lifker mux cruftian bloot nimp?" you ask. "Fra curia! Jufted
plavaw pooz nomanarth, broster doil," I reply. You rise to the challenge, as the gibberish
jousting continues. A Norwegian family stops to stare and listen, thinking they hear
something comprehensible in our bravura showing of verbal fabrication. In the seconds to
come we find that nothing remains of what we said. The vestigial limitations of
communication, inaccessible to the human mind, are roundly exorcised from their shelter by
spontaneous ejaculations of carefully unplanned humiliation. All that we discard is gathered
up by the vacuum cleaners of cultural commentary, re-appropriated into visually coherent but
linguistically meaningless jabber that rises above reasonable discussions, blanketing
libraries and houses of debate with suffocating fragrances of unknown rot, these blundering
turmoils of repetitive word matter spined by multiple backbones, covered by strata of a
newborn's thickened flesh. The festivities spread to cloudless passages of sweaty rain,
those ruggedly noiseless terrains whence worlds are frisked and fondled, where screaming
infants inhale hurricanes while living like prisoners in topless pits and longing for the
remote comfort of a crumbling black hole. Empty horizons inspire more than glittering
skylines. I say this, and you cannot agree, but you do, again, you agree. How do these
infinite trails of microscopic adventure void the bullion of jumbled gold left greatest in
value by bullish grins of red and unrubbed venom? How does the date resolve to algebraic
tranquility if the hot-voiced lecture climaxes on the blushing violence of spoiled cream?
Ask not the hungry pastures of manufactured villainy, for blindness lingers on the stools of
the coolly bulleted list of your life stories. I
remember that callow flourish. it happens again at times. Not the frosty "lover at war"
nonsense but the image of my bare legs, trailed by sparkles, articulated with fantastical
detritus to reflect the movement and the ambition of my progress through this world.
Mother and I went to dinner at a loud, crowded place.
We confirmed our reservations and walked down a circular staircase to get to the
dining room.
We got to the bottom of the staircase and entered the dining room
when mother realized she had left her purse upstairs, probably at the reservations desk. She
panicked a little, turned around and slightly pushed me out of her way as she rushed back
and started running up the stairs.
A few steps up the stairs she looked up and
saw a man holding her purse, holding it up and toward in her in an affirmative manner
indicating that he knew he had her lost property. All eyes turned toward the communication
between mother and this man, a brief feel-good moment.
Mother indicated relief,
and I felt it as well, that waterfall of assuagement that punctuates sudden panic, a
spontaneous and un-orderly sorting-out of what will happen, who will have to be called, what
plans will have to change if certain articles from one's carry-all suddenly go missing, or
if they fall under someone else's control.
The man with the purse gestured to
mother that he would toss it down to her. She held open her hands, smiling. I knew,
instinctively, that she did not appreciate this, this somewhat risky act of throwing the
purse, but that her gratitude toward the individual for finding and offering to return the
purse was enough for her to compromise and allow him to return it in the manner of his
choosing.
The act of him throwing and her catching was a clumsy ballet, not one
confidently entered into for the first time between strangers in a crowded room of
onlookers.
She held her hands up in anticipation of receiving the purse. The
man tossed the purse down toward her. Her hands barely had time to close when the purse
struck her in the face, knocking out her false teeth. The purse simply came down faster than
she expected. She was still smiling in gratitude and relief that her purse was found when it
hit her face, knocking her smile asunder, and shattering it.
All eyes, aghast,
turned toward the man who had gone from good samaritan selflessly returning a lost item to a
virtual attacker who appeared to have assaulted my mother by throwing her purse at her face.
He seemed apologetic, but snarkily so. In fact, by my estimation, he was not
apologetic at all. Mockingly shrugging his shoulders, he instead basked in the lingering,
prestigious glow of one who found another's object of value and returned it for no reward.
He put more value on his good intentions than on the buffoonery of his ill-advised manner of
returning the found object.
Mother retreated to a space away from the crowded
room and away from the puzzled gawkers. She re-adjusted her false teeth and re-appeared,
taking my hand as we left the place, briskly climbing the stairs, never to return.
That was the first time I knew my mother's false teeth existed. She never mentioned them,
not even in the broadest vaguenesses. The closest allusion I remember was mother simply
saying she had bad teeth as a child. It was well into adulthood myself when, through some
stream-of-consciousness or other, I deduced that mother must have had a complete set of
false teeth since at least her 40s, if not earlier and if not for virtually all of her adult
life.
I do not remember what happened. He stole
things. He cheated in school. He had pornography. I followed him. I cheated on tests,
copying his answers one by one, not questioning them. The answers, as my mother quickly
observed, were nothing but alternating "True" and "False." a 20 question True-or-False quiz
for which DT provided me answers, answers which I devoured in panicked ignorance, failing to
notice the pattern. 1. T 2. F 3. T 4. F On and on, for 20 questions, a column of letters and
numbers. He stole things from the school library. Evidently, so did I. But when I say I do
not remember that is not a vulgar attempt to dismiss or disassociate myself. The incident is
simply not clear in my mind. It was in the library. Mrs. F., the crabby librarian, collected
library fines. Some of these fines added up to considerable sums of $1 or more. My anxieties
about library fines stretched back to the evacuation, when I was able to get away with not
paying a library fine on account of our family's early release. I don't remember if I owed
any library fines in the 3rd Grade, but DT showed me where the money was. Mrs. F. stuck the
money in a book, or so I believed. It seems like most of the fines were less than $1. A
stash of money collected from library fines would likely be in nickels and dimes. That is,
unless Mrs. F. converted the coins to bills from her own pocket. That is how DF explained it
to me. The presence of those bills, though, was erotic. Not sexual but sensuous. Opening a
book, a book that looked no different from the others but which DT knew contained money,
opening that book was 3rd-grade sexual to me. I was nervous touching the bills, nervous as
the first time I undid a woman's pants, nervous as I tasted her for the first time. I held
the bills with my fourth finger, imagining that finger was safer than others, less
traceable. Or perhaps imagining that these special sheets of paper demanded special
attention and unusual means of handling. Days passed, and somehow it was found that either I
had the money, or DT had the money. I don't remember having the money, though I might
remember lifting it from the book. Did I keep it, or did I hand it to DF? Was there a
handoff of loot somewhere outside the library? Whatever the case, someone found the money
missing and I suspect that whoever that was had little trouble concluding who took it. The
library, a moon-like terrain to youngsters, was but a tiny room to adults. I don't remember
taking the bills. I don't remember getting caught. I was called to the principal's office. I
do not remember who was present. It may have been Sr. H. or her substitute, but whoever it
was was erased from my mind by the presence of a man in a business suit. Wearing a suit and
tie and coming from some place other than the school he asked me several questions, smiling
opaquely, a half-grin, the type some people do not realize they exhibit but of which he
seemed readily aware. When I got my passport made, 30-something years later, the woman who
handled the transaction had that exact grin on her face. She made mundane comments and I saw
her face and chuckled, thinking she was smiling. She was not smiling, and I promptly stopped
laughing, remembering that man in the principal's office. The situation may never have been
as serious as I imagined it. I was being investigated, interrogated, cross-examined. The
principal indicated that a specialist was brought in to ask me questions, and by specialist
I thought she meant police officer or private detective, though I am not certain that I knew
what either of those things were. The nun said to me "This is (unintelligible)." The she
turned her ass toward me and mumbled "He's from the (unintelligible)." He was sharply
dressed, pristinely, even, his nose sharp and his hair dark. A pin glittered on his lapel,
possibly an American flag or some sort of patriotic symbol like a Statue of Liberty image,
or maybe just the torch which Liberty holds in her hand. I sat in a chair and the man knelt
over slightly, maybe leaning against a table or the principal's desk, asking me about the
money. DT had told me what to say, but I can't remember what he told me to say, and I can't
remember what I did say. I am pretty sure I said that he and I were in the library, looking
at books, when we happened to find one book with money in it. We didn't know what it was, or
why it was there, but we took it, assuming the Finders Keepers rules applied. To have
brought in outside help for this investigation suggests something more than a few dollars
was at stake, but I just do not know. Maybe that was just a ploy, though, to scare the
bejeezus out of a little kid by making him think that the CIA was brought in to investigate
and prosecute the case of a few dollars stolen from the library's fines. To me the few
dollars felt like millions, no not even something as concrete as "millions" but like an
ungoldly amount of money, incalculable precious tender of significance that transcended its
value. I could barely contemplate the amount of money, which perhaps reflects in the fact
that I don't remember how much it was. Is it the first money I ever touched? The first
American money? I remember the Asian currencies, and I probably was encouraged to hold on to
a few of those bills as souvenirs. And certainly I had seen or even handled coins by the 2nd
or 3rd grade. But this money was dark and foreboding. Something about this money was
dangerous, and not just because we "found" it. DT knew the money was there, I think. He saw
the librarian stash it there. He directed me to it, and made me steal it from the book
before giving it to him later. I can not remember if I told the investigator that we were
just looking at books in the library when we found money in one of them, or if I told him
that DT had set me up. It is hard to imagine how articulate I could have been, but the
school year ended soon after this incident and DT did not return the following year.
I am looking at
America through its
throwaway memories,
its unsearchable lives. bullions of gravy in a lump of home swinging on electric
hazel where a chandelier of candy melts. records need to be kept.
who records the
mash of scents
tangling in your hallway?
who records the
emptiness in your freezer? who remembers these cudded words? dig into the phlegm of
your mind. expect garbage. expect combat.
listen to the drain listen to the drain listen to the drain
inhale
Time wasted is the
truest form of death
among the living,
shut like a coffin in the
sex-washed wind of the
purple night.
10.10.15 How often do you read the letters I
never sent? Those silent bulges of history? 10.10.09
For all this drizzle the sourness reigns in
blemishes left by you, the corners of
defilement and imperfection mocked by
old jokes, inanimate objects punctuated with
dank nuances of your judgments, life's
porously invisible lunacies chased by laughter
continuously down the centuries, the
same as on these spots in times still current,
times as connected as today, times
always alive to you because you listen,
because you wait for the messengers who
made no appointment, you listen for the
neighbors long moved away. You are
looking for the meaning in the common
stairwells, lamp posts and municipal
mysteries of tireless infrastructure, the
grain of your attentions vacuumed away by
passers-by seen and invisible, drawing
chalk from your fists to explain the
continuities of detritus, particles of industry
sternly lurking in the metal fences, the
hovering tangle of cables inhabited for a
century by voodoo childhoods in the
permanent passage of stillness. Your eyes
follow the travels of strangers, your legs
trace their paths down alleys and forgetfulness, you
look for answers in the objects they ignore, your
sounds unheard in continuous evaporation.
10.10.01