Tuesday night I was out in the garage building a workbench.  Nothing fancy but it’s sturdy, level & plumb. You were keeping busy doing something else, just as arbitrary, just as lifelike.  Three-quarters finished, Maya came home and asked me if I wanted to have a beer.  So, a frosted glass of Guinness Drought in hand, listening to the local classic rock station on an oldie boom box hanging from the pegboard, a beautiful cool-breezy night, garage door open to the yard, some leaves changing for Fall already, cardinals noisy in the Hawthorne apple tree, no bougainvillea, and I began to get in a rare magnificent mood. …Leaning against an old cosseted two-tone silver Chevy with my best friend leaning against me (she drinking a bottled-cold Killian’s with a lime, which is very good actually), the li’l calico cat snuggling at our backs on the canvas car cover, licking our arms and doing all’@ kitty semi-lovey-dovey stuff.  …We talked about bathroom tiles and the smell of fresh-cut wood and rock & roll and our sons while getting a gentle buzz and enjoying our early middle-age together.  An all-round pleasant moment in the life of ~~ no doubt you know the song.  No doubt, you’re busy singing the song with your own words and melody.  Then…we came in the house.  Then went back out and came in again.  Her to shower and change into something more comfortable and me to pour another glass and sign onto the bloody dbis to catch-up on the argument ... but where, instead, I found a heartwarming PM by one of the coolest ladies… 

(I wish I could share it but it was a PM.  Instead, this thought…)

…A bird began its call with Xavier Rudd Solace.

It dawned on me again that we aught to be free

But I think there’re so many of us that those who

Keep things corked believe we cannot possibly be

Anywhere near as free as we once believed we

Could be.  & so now we have to learn to live

In plastiform packaging hanging, like the

Boom box, on a pegboard.   So here’s

Hoping  that your pegboard has its

Good vistas and occasional fresh

Air and sunshine opportunities. 

WE are at present arguing over people who are so blatantly obvious. We’re smart enough to see just how we’re twisting in the wind, so we must need this argument to feel real.  To feel self-actualized or just to stay more interested than the Goths on the corner of Visigoth & Ostrogoth.  There are those who know for sure of the connectivity between all living things, not necessarily tastes or likenesses, but connectivity nonetheless; and there are those who are desperately in need of holding on to the design of opposition, it breeds antagonism, fills the angry spirit, circulates the blood, balance is a crutch.  So, the argument (whether fastidiously manufactured by what’s left [or Right] of the Western manufacturing base or as brutally real as two Alpha wolves aimed to kill each other over one female) perpetuates itself in the guts and minds of its host: we, the people. 

No benevolent evolution for humans.  No evolution at all, perhaps. Machiavellian. & if so, what of the past century?  What a crock of shit Earth has turned out to be.  Of what petrified notion are the dreams of healthy sunsets & sunrises …in spirit and motion… when the bulk sum total of all human knowledge has lead us to injected microchips and fake food, lined up single file before the meat grinder in The Wall?  All of that was supposed to be irony, dark poetry parody, for sake of thought & repartee.  We had the opportunity to learn from our stupidity or our well-meant blunders and twists of faith and flagrant usages.  We weren’t supposed to be colonized like ants in giant Plexiglas ant farms.  …No, we were not supposed to be created in the eyes of our most malignant &/or those who build cages and smack gavels in the legislation of consequences.  How can that be the truth?  What’s the fucking point of that?

A little bird reminded me that home is still good.  Thanks little bird.  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bmc6o8UMFfM&feature=related

I don’t get it,

Mess