pumpkin stems

I’m standing in a line thinking little things,   All standing in line, “Y’been standing in line long?”       Some nod, “I’m not surprised you’ve been standing there a bit.” Did you notice today might be the day the stock market crashes? That’s always a thrill. It is down a bit..... I don’t know what this really means, but I think that society needs a point.......just a someone   From which they can exceed. Last night in my dreams I bring my imaginary friends to a plain   A dished basin and array them on the elevated opposing slopes ...in the 23rd century, they, or we, are now neon     Cyborgs, or wear a neon armor. Two forces face themselves in Mesopotamia. Four AM and I arrive on my feet after a full sleep.... The birds are not up.         I’m up. I got the dog to get out before work. Four AM, let’s see five hours ahead - the banks open in London! We can see if we can get them on the shortwave-ether-mental-net. Last night was the slaughter of tomatoes,   there was a big visceral red schmear of The discards, the good stuff inthe bowl...       Them tomatoes became salsa! I got six plants for a buck at Wal-Mart,   the verylastest ones, way late. (still awaking..) My mind, that mind. I must get constructive a bit. My imaginary friends again. It’s battle time. Want to get arrayed up on those slopes?   A needed liberty and ethics stirred to be one thing, centuries later...     Will the neon warriors arrayed feel they have them? Now we have ethics, we have rights.......then......will there be a moral to the story?   The CONTROL, is it too set in? Must we jig and dance before the cloud? Must we then and now dance as Suzanne   in Steven’s poem       before the elders,         and then done dancing, the stain         allows you to attain sucess? That always Been a concept in my mind...   forged, wrought hard, from reality...life. (still pondering sleep...) Constructing a thing of the mind at nighty-night time...just to calm the nerves. You created you self a jumping point from which   to leave it all behind. After the self-deluded respite.   It’s always there. I can see myself slowly stepping up   the worn marble steps to the temple. (yesterday comes to mind...) At the swap meet....I guess it was hippie-chicks ....then later that day the potpourri barn with dust collectors   and women of All the various charms,   no doubt there places decorated with this. SO early American... and I look under the figurines - - -Made in China, but There is no Early American in China - - So we ordered this stuff, OK? But, AH, in the back are some beautiful wind gongs Not chimes, four and so feet long they toll Big Ben. Me, well, yeah, I guess I’m that guy, kinda eavesdroppin’ on Wally and Beaver, y’know, uh, Beavis and Butthead, uh yeah y’know Like Amos and Andy, Bob and Bing.           Me like y’know I don’t have that other one, Plato and Crito, Tom and Dick Smothers...... .............I feel like I’m butting in.                 Do you ever feel like you’re Butting in? Don't there need to be one in every community Hoping to snuggle up with the American Flag,   and finding the Flag’s been sold to A Major Corporation. Yeeeouch, that is somethin’! Aina-hey? I was a BSA and ‘ricegrinder’ man, faster than a Hardly Ableson. Furreally...... You gonna’ kick a twenty horse rattle-o-matic, and wipey-wrenchy... it goes and then it stops. OH! But today, 20K$$$$$$ for half a car. Uh, yeah. Way back then before the store closed down, they shut it Down a long time ago,   then they shut down the prophets,      the mystics, the flyers,     The misfits ......later displayed as the Apochryphia. Never then did I THINK it would be Five AM   goin’ to work driving the   Grandpaw Olds. There seemed to one and all to be a Romantic Cause at the time,       Everyone could hop on board. And then that One Guy, that guy, the High Diver...     Y’now a double gainer and a twist Right there in front of everybody     Yeah, right in front of everybody, he was selling records. I wasn’t selling records. I still can’t help to wish that guy would come and steal from lines from me   OH-WOW! This is a loser’s lament! It’s like there is a character fault   of mine I have to Repent. I can’t dance, and they don’t like the looks of me. Oh baby,baby! It’s just we be the guys back in the Horn Section Honking a sax, squeelin’ a clarinet. I think now maybe my goal in life is to Repent,. To a 1%er who’s got a V-Twin...idem est a Hippie-Chick... ...A six inch chick, no booming man’s voice, what could it be a He or a She(?), and not liking me, Oh My! what can we do, what can we do! We’ve got to repent to a Hippie-Chick,   and I been getting She-mail in the Mail All over the damn radio and TV, and I’m bad.     OK ,I’m not supposed to do that, the thats of a million thats ..... but that just Nominalism ... A Fasce. BUT these lines are going to shreik in someone’s mind, ...And they will chastize, bring forth what they feel is a     World of Hurt .....And the fire and brimstone will come down Because there are people like me around ....That still have feelings that remind, I’m a man. I like my manly things, there is a certain ring or feel to them. Not everyone will related to everyone as a Schmoo, Pardon me Al Capp; Do we really need to reproduce acellularly? Well, you don’t belong in the old song, That’s the place you don’t need to go to,   But in that place , the old song place,     do they knows there’s a me? That’s the moral to this story,   that’s there is a place that You must be the one that don’t get along. There is a feeling of cordiality in the air, and that leaves me silent. I can get out a $30.00 Chinese guitar and hammer a bit Plunk down on one of them chords   and move one of my fingers up and down ...........Then I got my own rythmn section, I guess. Who is this censor that rejects the things in your mind?     Are those things rejects? Indeed, All’s a poem.   ******** Here is now, my beloved. Now is here, my beloved. Where are you not there, way on down back there.....   That can only serve a few ...   Here is now, Now is here. Oh, Oh, my beloved. Brimstone, please Float on down, Float on down   Like manna.....no realease no ending.   ******** Ok, now I see someone’s else’s poem   was less tongue in cheek, I must at times agree. Why are we not reading from the Psalms? The one in the Psalms, are we to be the one in the Psalms?       Or, are we to be the one who can resign Resign to the stresses.   The Pharoah’s holy page         It is made for messess, At our closed brewery at this point,   Here by the River,     There is no Steam. Therefore, no beverage. Two-hundred men gone... And those steamers feel I should wear the hair-shirt..... They look at me -  they see I Steam, they have mouths to feed. Biblically the natives think   I have that Hairshirt to don     I should move on,       but indeed I have a decade and a half. Cold Brewery is all around, blocks and blocks   Of the downtown of the little town, The Big Guys ate-em up. ..then sold to a like pair who even made a little brew there ...then went tits up in the ditch they're looking for another John ...to fire the bitch. The Russian came, beer not more... The Hopi came, beer not more...   Tea, and Vodka pops, and water... Thebeer is a bust - a local mini. I wish I was the Bud ferret,   After Spud’s After the Frogs, the lizards.... what are you doing, why you are doing it, is Miller. I want to be the Next Bud Thing!!! Oh-mi-god, a male the sisters wail, The pumpkin has a stem! We thought he would just know He was ‘sposed to end..... It’s a lotta Tommyrot and an Abbyssinian mule Written April 2nd, 2002 © on Apr 02 2002 08:09 AM PST   0 • 9