what did the teevee say?

wait a second

what

what did the teevee just say to you?

what? what are you talking about?

it said something and then you said something back

you're mad

no i'm not

if i'm mad then you are weak
if i am mad then you are thee
if i am sick then you are sullen
if i am mad then you must wailing

in the air you fall so steep
gentle lamb, you quarrel deep
this burden this mess this land of lust
must be something in the mist of dust

see you see i am not mad
just know my english
and a bit tad off beat
in the street
with day old meat, from the butcher's cleaver streak

so if i am mad
you must be queer
leave me alone
let me live in fear

now what did the teevee say?

ohhh go to bed, it's  much too late for this nonsense

the horse fall

when there was once a land i thought i knew
there was more to it than i thought it would
when you see the eyes of mine
you wonder and ask of how, thee, why
sshhhh don't tell me, i'll say what
in your ear, i speak this smut
linger on so gentle being
i rather fall from a horse then forget your meaning
i fell
from that horse
into that meaning
where have i gone?
what have i seen?
the cat it don't like me but i feed it milk and honey
and it still don't like me
but it's always thirsty
always sane
always waiting for it's owner in her domain
from horses to cats and back up all around
this epic has lost virtue
this man it hath frowned

new Brooklyn

i

live

for

you

i

only 

need 

needs

i

will

make

this 

city 

alive

again

i

there 

is

no

i 

anymore

for 

we

are

in

all

of 

this 

together

James st N

is

the

new 

Brooklyn

stop look at me

*drum rattle*

like a baby's cattle
we got you now king kong
now reap the benefits of the dislodged

they speak in words of wisdom
they speak in words of joy
they speak in words of fyr
they speak in words no more

what do you get when you want me
a fire burning bright
what do you get when you find me
a loaded, it is tight

stop, look at me
don't you, stop, look at me
i find you seeing what i see
i look right into your soul

i lie a little sideways
you fall in the undertoe
when you remember judgement
do you recall the day

the day has come upon us
to let love dismay
so don't jump up so merry
run around this place

stop, look at me
don't you, stop, look at me
i find you seeing what i see
i look right into your soul

your heart it rattles
*shake shake*
the baby's bottle to make
you limp into the blood
hands on fire you scum

when you think i am watching
you know as hell as well i am
you wonder what i'm thinking
well ain't that the plan

final verse is a nightmare
you wake up in a sweat
you're bleeding profusely
making calls to the vet

stop, look at me
don't you , stop, look at me
i find you seeing what i see
i look right into your soul

stop, look at me
don't you, stop, look at me
i find you seeing what i see
i look right up into your soul

fin

heavy tooth

i walked to the store today

did you now?

well yes i did. and do you think i bought something?

well yes i did in fact. a gold plated tooth

did you find it cheap??

as a matter of fact, no, it cost me three knives and a quarter of steel

that's a heavy tooth

no heavy
no heavy
no heavy tooth for me

now when you lip down the merry go round
speaking about the things that go down
wondering what you may or may not
whispering down the gentle block

now maybe just maybe you stood quite still
listening to your jungle bill
the time it takes to wind a clock
the batteries broken tick tock tick tock

when the white knight showed you the way to go
don't blow, heave ho
gentle block
kiss tag in the jail block of the kitty mock tick tock tick tock

ain't that a heavy tooth

the orwellian complex

the contradiction ever just

the words fall down so we will musk

barrels and barrels in your marketplace

let your heart glide where your spirits cannot

i am but a humble fool

an ibsen, a rousseau, a marx, a tolstoy

purvey to the blade and ax of the martyrs

singing songs scanning all the books of blue

don't fault me now for i shall not sing

locked away in my lumber king

the bed is big and i am naked

but a prisoner no more at last, no feed no kitten

welcome to my land of dreams

where pippin and merry and maxwell breath

i don't write as much as i used to friend

no ears to listen, to a yelling jail cell man

the hospital took away the taste of the wild

made me fat and bald

half man, half monster, catering to those who ask and wonder

half hair, half boils what else can i say? heath these words, thy could be thy last

there is no chance in me for hell

or no hell in chance for me to rebel

the people own the masses, the minority knows

how can a man like trump heed the blow?

with the words of the masses

the opium flows through the veins

looking for hope, when all else seems in vain

an intellectual vain, one we all know we have

how, i ask you, can we let this happen

when we should be a utopia, a place, a happening

so don't leave me yonder with these words

i'm here all night, so, nigh shed thy tear

chapter 17 of Idiot Savant: the gala

Chapter 17

The gallery was transformed into a gala with a red carpet and balloons and posters of advertisements. It’s like a movie premiere but without all the paparazzi nonsense. There were photographers, but they were hidden in the shadows, snapping away.

Click. Pose. Click. Pose. Click. Pose.

The curator wasn't even there yet but they still kept clicking away. Everyone seemed to be wearing black, a clean slate in a room of darkness. Was there a stage? I hope so, since I was wearing all black and could definitely use my skills to progress my date. She would love it.

On the stage rehearsing Tennessee Williams and dancing in my mind to Brahms Piano Quartet Op 25: Allegro.

*********

Miss Cline guided me with her palm in my hand and we enter the gala. The gallery has a modern roof concept. There was art hanging from the ceiling, something with digital lines. Something I didn't quite understand.

I'm young now, so understanding takes time and patience to find when art is true to you. Art is perception of life. You cannot have perception and life if there is no art because all three walk together in a swirl of powerful emotion and thought processes. Thought love to share with the people examining each and every paint gloss and finish and brush stroke. Miss Cline is overlooking the realist portraits.

I never took a visual art class and don't plan on taking one, but Cline informs me of Surrealism and Realism and Dadaism and Modernism. The concepts glide way over my head. I'm a simple man with simple prayers and I pray that there's coffee somewhere. I can try the hazelnut and dark roast that they usually don't let us buy anywhere near here. This shit is the good shit and I plan on sitting beside the coffee pot to get the good view of the people around and satisfy my addiction of warm goodness that pours out of the canister in Gothic brilliance.

Cline would call it realism; I call it taste test from a machine that reads bar codes printed on the face. There's three floors and each of them have coffee on it so I let Miss Cline do what she must to satisfy her artistic need while I sip and sip and then begin heaving back lukewarm coffee. I wish I had friends like that, but I have coffee and Miss Cline right now and that is all that matters to me. She's a doll-face and I listen to her and we peck and kiss and she grabs my hand and leads me to a quiet part of the gallery and we make out.

If this is the natural effect of art on a woman, I’ll buy three paintings please. I'd put one on the ceiling over top the bed and we can look at it for hours till we both get wet and start to drool over modernism or whatever looking down at us. I have culture but I didn't go to class when I was supposed to. I was too busy playing with action figures and the occasional video camera. I would nap in class and wait till the lunch bell to ring so we could play cards for nickels and dimes and I was safe with the friends I had at that time. Luck maybe, or maybe that's why, now, I always go for a soda or coffee or chocolate covered coffee beans. My wakefulness depends on it.

*********

We're making out and someone takes a picture of us and I asked him for the photo. The camera was vintage tech. It was one of those cameras that spit out the film. You have to fan it in the air. The gentleman just fanned the picture and there we were, lips locking, looking into each others' eyes with illusion and delusion and what I come to think is artificial love, but I like her.

I like her a lot and I'd be stupid to ruin this now but chances are I will and when you really sit down to think about it, all we have in common is our residence. No, I can't think this way, I mustn’t for I need her presence right now to help me cope with the thoughts in my head. She points at the picture in the area and I've never seen something so interesting. It's a painting of sex, but with a halo on each head and a baby in the middle. OH, she wants a baby now...I can't do that, or am I over thinking this a little bit? I am critical and I just can't wait to get back to the cabin or drink as much coffee as possible.

OoOooo, mint coffee!

*****

This place is heaven. I sip the caffeine from a paper cup and she's saying things that I don't understand. Art is her major for god sakes and my Major was kicking my ass in the Army. As someone once said, opposites attract and that comment rings in my ear, truthfully. On different levels. How did we even get here? Oh yeah, she drove.

“Wanna go?” She asks and I say, “If you wanna,” and she nods.

I ask if she wants to purchase any art and she says “No, I can make better myself.”

There's nothing better than bettering yourself. I am anxious and believe that the cabin has more tales to tell and I've got my pen and notebook ready.

She unlocks the door and we are in the John Smith. She offers me a piece of gum and I lick my lips. She leans over the clutch to kiss me and we swap gum and hers is bubble gum flavoured. MMMmmM we say simultaneously and yum. I blow a bubble and she pops it with her tongue and we just end up making out again. While in traffic, and it's a green light.

Miss Cline parks the car in the barn and its cabin fever time. I unlock the door and she's all over me. I love a woman who knows what they want in a man. However, my mind was focused on reading and writing in the attic.

make out session day 1

I'm here now stable 

almost back to normal

i figure that what i need is right in front of me

as we make out almost as if we were in high school

words through the mind, almost catapulting itself into each other

no sound just love

thought love

remember

and it happened

you thought it and it happened

and then you wondered and then it stopped

and then it all came back again to find you

when you looked in the mirror and actually saw yourself

what did you see?

what did you find?

who do you love?

the tim hortons conundrum

what have we decided on then
tim hortons will be worldwide
i can see it now as i sit here
it's all begun
it has
it is mcdonalds
it is canada
and it is coming to knock on your door europa.

the quality will increase
tim horton starbucks merger
20 years
stock options now
be smart
spend wise