"Book of Days"

Thursday, February 14, 2019

I just watched a douc about typewriters. Loved them. As a child I wrote my first stories on one. We had a 1918 French typewriter in our basement when I was little. Seemed to come with the house. It remained there as we grew up.

When the house was sold to a relative after my folks passed there it still was. In more or less the same corner it sat in for the 40+ years we lived there.

I think it's still there.

"...mercurial"

Inspiration is a sudden memory of the future. It appears in full bloom. Bringing it into the world though. A compromise of a compromise. An approximation of an approximation.

The dream remains, but the fact is mercurial.

Ginsberg's "Howl" as he actually heard it. Van Gogh's Starry Night as he really saw it. James Baldwins sermons essays if he were free. Dunne's Holy Sonnet's before 2nd thoughts. The Iliad before the translations.

"...days"

This is pretty much it.

I go from emotional extreme to extreme. Alone in my digs.

I'm good I'm fine. Banged up confused like everyone.

I write much post little.

Days go by.

"A Night at the Opera"

Spent the day at the hospital. The above sums it up. A grand surreal sometimes deadly comedy. Very like the Marx Brothers below. I got done. Weren't no part left un-done. Going back in a few days for more fun.

Civilization is terrifying,...when it's not hilarious.
I don't think it's possible to be more wasted drained, and bleeped up than I am now,...with more to come.

I'm working my way through the last of the sugarless ice cream.
"...Thanks Sharon!"
This stuff proves there are Angels!

"...hat"

At last I'm old sick, and broke. Just like my favorite saint Walt Whitman. So far so good. He worse neat hats too!

On the further upside. In the last few years when I seem to have become visibly older. Elder folks reach out as I stumble along.

You sages out there noticed this?

They'll just strike up conversation,...since I'm clearly in the Club. Suddenly we're talking about 1957, and the Dodgers. We're in a time of life when there's this instinct to download what we know.

So we tend to speak to other elders oblivious kids, and the walls.

We have near a century of stories busting out of us.

Friday, January 25, 2019

"...pantaloons"

Brooklyn's Moon @ 1:56am January 19th 2019~CE.

Taking these simple measurements gives me kinship to Galileo.

His first telescopes, and my simple camera

having the same rough resolution.

I think he'd really get a kick out of our robots

drag racing around Mars.

That, and the Hubble would blow his pantaloons off.