one day



motivation crept back in complaining

of my absent pedigree

I told that wench

run bring me a beer she said you'll never win the title match drinking a hundred now



this is all prelude to me telling you the story of Mercygraft Hill and the old red house, that ancient neighborhood, abandoned by all and for dozens of years save for the old woman's mutant children, numbering 2



one was a bird the color of tarnished copper with a perpetually open beak and 2 human feet emerging, human yelps and mumbling coming horrible from inside its gullet and as I looked closely I saw that the creature's intelligence was somehow fused in there



my companion told me he'd been sitting atop the ruined roof of the house for as long as anyone knew. the danger he presents to himself is a danger to us all



we had earlier climbed the hill, the oldest and highest in town, up a steep road as steep as to be nearly useless in the effort it took to ascend



we scaled some rocky ledge the better to go unobserved and from up there I looked down on the grassy outskirts of the town, the rusty rails of the blasted tracks running far out under tunnellike green and sward canopy of trees and grass and yet curiously to me the view included no vista: I could not see the ocean nor the distant encampents of the armies, armies of men, armies of beasts



(then shift into a battle on a rooftop down in the city, this battle also a wild party for spectators and participants both, and at a certain point I go running off to this artist studio apartment house to do a few things there to use the bathroom being one of them but and of course there is a girl, there is a bunch of other dudes, there are black and red curtains, there is a friend I once betrayed, there is aloofness, everyone there wants to be famous as do I, there is some shame and there are some further inscrutable lessons)



I'm getting ahead of myself



this is all just a prelude. motivation crept back in unannounced sometime in the night last night,



let me tell you friends that I've been down, I've been hurting, I've been fucked up disturbed walking headshot in the morning streets, smoking cigarettes, wondering why how and is it too late well no, no not at all, so I am back here to tell you, writing in stealth, and at 8:12am



bless the hour



****************************



11:16am on the other hand can be a most debilitating hour

reading of war crimes perpetrated by your own countrymen and women and plenty of them

now maybe that is a mind too far but how can it be? all the information is right here

all the details, all the photos and movies



digression is the context in this case



the debiltating minutes; feel myself slipping to the torpor

but then I put a few words in this box unbeknownst and that is some hope



**********************



Some parts of the dream are ridiculous as parts of the life though always more entertaining



the dream runs the life limps perhaps I will carve you an elegy of images tonight



perhaps not



****************************



I have no pedigree and slight precedent in my history for success but what I do have is bezel in the blood enough and obstinacy to decline defeat



my insane ways the massive vanity

the paradox, self-destruction



self-creation



the will to do This



****************************



Cheat the Muse or get

bitch to surrender



either way

will do



long as you

get in



**************************



the schematic aftertaste

grinning



cloven head

carrion twisting



bloody ribbons

on the flagpole



*************************



I said earlier on here that there would be a battle, a battle of men versus animals yeh now aint that just the case