Victoria Day

being rich gives one the luxury                                                           of the future                                                                                                            as the immediate

is well financed…

 

TOO A POINT…

                                                                                              

we live forever …no afterlife                                                                                                                 improving forever,                                  

we pretend it will last forever…it’s better with age

the decades tick by and we are stunned                                                                                    by the passage of time and our impending demise

blips on a screen

oh yes lovely death  

the unborn                                                                                                                  the undead 

cannot attest to eternity      

stress levels are up                                                                                                  worrying ages                                                                                                      the heartiest of souls

ethereal realities                                                                                                     while a billion 

grind in poverty.                                                                                                            

remember 

Catherine (Kit) Corkery                                                                                             on her deathbed

“Don’t be afraid, be grateful.”

She was a wife, mother, maid, grinder volunteer.                                               Born Febuary 20th, 1919 in Brampton Ontario.                                                Died Nov. 1st 2010  , in Toronto of cancer ,

AGED 91.

from the globe and mail today's edition 

An Alive Woman On Salt Spring

Miller Time

i say i’ll quit writing at noon                                                                               when the time comes i have the thought

i should do a little bit more…

but books of pomes are hard                                                                                        I am doing the heavy lifting with a self imposed time line                                    should put in more effort                                                                                      as you do not get to live life over.  

I argue “Stick to the schedule” and stop.

340

I take a picture of a purple haired woman with a phone  in her twenties…I ask afterwards if it is ok and she says no and I say ok I’ll delete it…I hold the phone in front of her and she watches the process…she is beautiful and says the internet is my friend…I say something to the effect “

if beauty says so it must be true”

and we bump fists and I head back into the bar known as 340.

A one eyed pirate guards the corner and a Friday regular is holding court. The machinist is on crutches and the bar maid as usual is/seems to be, having a good time…a guy who is now legal and taken up guitar sits at the head of the table, a basketball game is on the screen and I order a Moosehead….

Get the train home, eat something, phone J and let her know a deposit has been made and that I spoke with a president of a Korean company…beat off and go to sleep.

man orgasms ain’t what they use to be….

those people who are mercilessly unpretentious…who are not trying to be efficient or right… a strange world and the platform which many communicate is a private company…

your communication was commodified,

controlled you nod glumly forward with your unlived face and fitnessed body…

science takes away the magic of the imagination…

god speed

it’s jumpy,

Kentucky

i find myself in a small town outside of Salt Lake City an hour towards Las Vegas and surprisingly on our trip we stopped at a Jack in the Box for lunch and i ordered a Swiss cheese and meat sandwich with small curly fries and J. got a cheddar cheese and meat Arby’s special

after eating J. went to the washroom and i read a Mormon newspaper editorial stating we shouldn’t be entertaining ourselves when America faces many dire situations…like Lady Gaga and manufacturing jobs leaving the country…i think u know what i  mean…

I hear a voice in my head which isn’t unusual                                                    but this time they’re talking about horse racing                                                  and that happens from time to time but not recently

so I'm a little surprised and look across at a TV                                                   and there is a baseball game in motion.

earlier that day in LV      i had made a bet on the Kentucky Derby on a horse called “Animal Kingdom” 50  to win 50 to place and he drew out of the 16th hole so i wasn’t expecting much

but a writer from the New York Times picked him and the article was well written and the logic reasonable and later i read his  times were good and though he had never run on dirt he still had a chance…then the jockey who was suppose to be on him got hurt and the top horse got scratched so the top jockey got called and i kind of though well maybe i do have a chance…

and the voices in  my head are sounding more and more like the start of the race and i’m thinking my psychic skills usually aren’t this good so i put down the Mormon paper and look up and there is a TV above and horses are entering the gate and it is the race…and again i’m not expecting much and J returns and i say the race is about to begin and she looks at the TV and says did you bet and i say of course…

and the race has started and twenty horses all run tightly together and on the small screen you can’t tell what is what and at the end a horse breaks out of the pack and win easily…

and J says number four won and that the jockey looks like a woman…and this is the first time in Kentucky history that a woman jockey has won  the race and i’m happy for her and woman everywhere and her name is Rosie and Kentucky derby is called “ run for the roses” so it seems fitting and well the media can have another carrot to stick up their ass and get excited for twenty minutes…

Then i squint my eyes and look closer at the screen and i am not at Jack In the Box I am at Arby’s and the “Animal Kingdom” is being flashed on the screen and i start dancing around the empty Arby’s sing I won i won I won and J say no you didn’t and i say yes i did though i’m not really sure…

so i check my ticket and stand on the  table and check the small TV in a small town in Utah in an empty Arby’s and sure enough the God’s are good and J says ur very lucky and i keep dancing…

a 2 dollar ticket pays 43 win and 19 to place so i do the math

25X43 equals 1075          25X19 equals 480  

15 hundred to the good  so on a 100 dollar bet i make the above which ain’t bad for a degenerate gambler who doesn’t have kids who’s on his way to visit the Mormons…

Later in the weekend                                                                                               i lose my basketball bet                                                                                        but over all i\m up $1400                                                                                  which isn’t a million dollars                                                                                  but in a life devoid of meaning

it creased a smile                                                                                                  on my handsome face.                            

renegade riverboat driver

Living as degenerate gambler in the bowels of hell…commonly known as Las Vegas i find myself tired as the Knuckleheads surprise and i keep adding to my bankroll…

my short collections of poems for the shaw seems incongruous with the heat of the desert sun and i can know longer consider myself a saint or even a repentant sinner.

My face is burnt (from wind)                                                                                  my legs are tired (from daily walks)                                                                       my back is sore (from afternoon swims) 

“my dreams they aren’t as empty as my conscience seems to be…”

and my lungs are full of tar and nicotine.

I am not drinking as the lows outweigh the lows                                                and the highs are no longer than an evening…

it finally comes down to this…

to what? to who? to how? to why?

well the album has been sung                                                                             the poems have been written                                                                              the movie is in the can

did i complain? Ha!

attending a show at the Venetian,                                                                          a hotel on the strip called

             

peace out. 

Bin Laden and the Conservatives

"We are going to be not responsive or impressed by words," Clinton said. "We would have to see actions on the ground, and that is not yet at all clear.”

Bin Laden is murdered and “justice” has been served…the fanatics will die or worse for their beliefs…way of life…dangerous…dangerous…dangerous…

oh well it is sunny on the desert and lady luck is smiling…                                    i have won at the casinos a few days in a row…

Trump is a clown who’s mere presence                                                             on the national stage is evidence                                                                           of capitalisms decline…

oh and in Canada…

Piggy can now go back to his academic posts and write books which are as stilted and convoluted as he…read one…I did.

and Layton getting rub downs in Chinese massage parlors which are notorious for extra service…but of course how could he know? Isn’t Chow Chinese?

Harper is a rock star now and he takes a majority…                                  

I’m wrong again                      i hope.