How many fingers  Am I holding up? The day is much too bright when looking   through the windows of "God's Storehouse."  That's the name of a place  for the children of the creator to buy second hand things.  Like Goodwill albeit with christian music pumping to convert the mindless poor shopper...I bought some used EMS boots for 6 bucks...at least my feet will be saved.   Earlier primrose and i drove around to find a solar charger for Bonanza jellybean...our mobile art gallery....When in O'reilly's auto parts i had to translate my wife's questions to the salesman...people down here find her accent beautiful and charming yet they have no idea what she is saying.  The other day we were in the video shop and some other customers thought she was Asian!  If you have never seen or met my  wife she looks more irish than anything...But she is from England: petite, fair skinned, almond shaped blue eyes and coppery blond hair.  Definitely not Asian.   Anywho we found something that might work in Oreillys... The night before this glorious day the south had become under attack from above by means of thunderstorms and tornadoes.....i couldn't sleep really..As far as climate that is about all we have to fear down here, but for some reason it, along with the climate of the south (racial, etc), inspired this poem: president resident how is your mind today? are you abe lincoln or harry truman? is the tormented flesh that you see yellow  or black? Is the skin peeling off of your Back yet? OR are there scars orbiting your neck? how are your decaying limbs resting in  your decaying cot? are they like mine, dancing with rot  like fleas on cold toast? how is your wet nurse holding your wetness? Are you sick of this? where do they burn the sheets of piss stained contempt of God's cruel joke?  Do you or i hold the yoke to  The maddening devils poised to run? Can you see them silhouetted in morning sun  through your caged window  hanging or are they detailed in full blossom melting skin like dew? Or is it night where you are always?  Is it night where you are always? is it night where you are always?

Cup a coffee with ur pee

The grey day window blows.."do they have walmarts in Mexico" I just got wind of. And yes. They do. The cup is almost empty and my bladder full..so here comes the passing storm...to only do what men do before returning home....get milk.

Like many before

like many before Building pressure of barometric mischievousness  i couldn't sleep thinking of what to put in this  this septic tank that i will share with all of you should i rattle this fairly imbalanced and poorly  designed canister by emptying wasted thoughts  of my co-existing cohorts that i love but not always respect  the answer came in a flash that awoke me finally and then rain the constant drip of unfixed gutters told me that it was best to put my minor to major exertions into prose or poetry to fictionalize my life truthfully and not to mention any names or change them when i felt it impossible to leave an interaction out for all those who missed my earlier rantings  well that is what they were and nothing more what will follow will hopefully not be hollow most of it will be of my unpublished work which is all of it some of it will be of long ago like photos in a closet i will  pull them out and expose them to you like a madman in an overcoat in a parking lot except for i will be the parking lot  just don't run over my face  Day 1: Return Smoking against the cold wind that battered the cancerous curls amongst the thick grey Of the day when a car passed splashing slush Upon my boots melting the ankle deep snow  Northern gravy on southern biscuits  Thoughts of home and my imminent return  To a place that seemed as foreign as Pluto  Yet much warmer in climate not in memory crossed my mind as I crossed the street  Readied my wife and began again to begin again Upon arriving I couldn't wait to see my youthful haunts: Brock's where my brother stole a porn mag, But was distraught to find out they no longer Carried such male distractions from the obedience of God and marriage, such I guess was my twins legacy;  White Stores where I took target practice on their sign  Stole many a worthless toy and ate endless potato wedges Only to find out now they are gone due to the long over due Effects of racial equality;  Newport Dry Goods whereupon I  Got a nice brown jacket only to be stolen later as an emblem To my problematic  adolescents provoking the burden Of years searching  every corner of countless northern Thrift shops only to discover what I always knew but did not Accept until now, as being the consilient albeit conspectus truth If you cant find what you are looking for, then stop looking...