2012 04 29 A Love Letter to my First (five) Neurologists

Physical Therapy
soaked in sweat, vision dimming
I am supposed to be able to do this
I will do it
I am getting better

fuck it and fuck you

Sitting on my  transfer board or shower chair
concentrating on falling over and
using my newfound infantile dexterity to wash myself
For the first time in months
I repeat my mantra for success

fuck you and you and you, you fucking piece of shit, you can go fuck yourself

When pushing my wheel chair
on sidewalks or bicycle tracks,
up hill or through narrow doors,
or rolling down hill, big grin on my face
around and around at Walmart
huffing and chugging

chugga chugga  fuck you!
my voice rising to a do a "whoot whoot"  fuck you

Oh and to all the pompous docotors, gathering around my bed telling me I am going to start getting better soon, just have to plateau at the bottom first, and that anxiety is by biggest problem
so confident that I felt guilty for doubting you

May God bless you and forgive you for your arrogance
and pompasity
Even though you may not live in my world,
we both are human
That makes us infinately fallible, prone to accidents,
illness, error and the other human foibles of fuckery

I ask God to let his love and forgiveness channel through me to you
All your good works are blessings to us
but if it were up to me
I would happily weave you a crown made of
fuck you till it comes out your mouth
shaped thorns
and place it on your broad, white, holier than thou brow.

2012 04 28 I'll burn your fucking house down

this is part of something longer I would like to create about a middle aged guy becoming a monster seems to be a theme for me


I got the idea from a movie called Heavy Petting, when Alan Ginsberg asks Williams S. Burroughs if all he really wants is to be loved, to which WSB replies, "That depends, by who, or by what."

It was a cute house, Steve thought looking at the tiny home. The first floor was one big room, divided equally into kitchen dining area and living room with sofa and fireplace. He guessed the television was upstairs, in the master bedroom. There would also a smaller bedroom office and the only bathroom in the small structure up there as well. The smell of cooking dinner permeated the first floor.

2012 04 26 Poetry Reading

We went to a poetry reading last night at the sugar magnolia bakery the healthiest bakery in town.  The poems were really great, many made me laugh.  Some made me go oh wow as they forged a new link of understanding or shifted my perspective on something I thought was immutable or is it immovable?

There were no poems that made me cry.

One woman read a hilariously graphic love poem full of gruesome and gory details, it was like watching a slasher movie.  I wanted to tell her what I thought about her poem, that it was delightfully ghastly, but lost my nerve.

I did approach two authors to tell my appreciation of their shared works and they were all like, who are you, what's you name, where are you from?

I was angry with myself for not even trying to write something.  I am after all a writer an artist blah blah blah.

This ribbon goes to the person with the most consecutive, on time, attendance"

I am sorry that you feel those awards for participation are a threat to your child's first second third place trophy.

But speaking for the chronic, under achievers, those blue and gold or red and white ribbons are a testament to our willingness to just show up.  Not everyone wants to be a champion, or, more likely, we all want to be champions, but there is room for only so many at the top.

I spent my whole life wanting to be good, or, if I couldn't be good, not trying.

2012 04 27 Picture

I asked you to send me a picture
Smiling, I said I would wear it
while walking around the house,
pretending to have a conversation
Then, seeing reflection in a mirror or window
I wouldn't feel so lonely

(see, it isn't creepy at all)

What joy to be had
when those barriers
those miles, those hours, that Fahrenheit v centigrade discrepancy
no longer existed
We could share the same space,
eyes alive, lips and tongue working,
Dull and matte done away with
vivation and glowth now triumphant!

Of course we would laughingly agree all the time
and finish each other's thoughts
Like the best buds, evah!

But then, But then,
real you would now be superfluous
Your facebook posts would be lies!
A mean fiction created for the basest of purposes
to flout my Amy, in her 2 dimensional reality
We would have to put a stop that.
She and I would have to board a plane
To  silence your mean falsehood
You pretender
You liar!
and...

Well, maybe it wasn't such a bad thing you never gave me that picture