I hope they serve beer in Hell – chapter one

I have decided not to blame President Trump anymore for the failings of our political system.

I should be blaming the people, the ones who vote on sound bites, charts made up by random numbers, media monkeys shitting on plates and calling it the truth.

I can’t watch the news anymore.

One side says the sky is falling.

The other side yells LIARS!!

And proceeds to says the sky is falling.

Failing us, the viewers, in their responsibilty to report the news, not make it up.

Donald Trump is our President.

Not by the people, mind you, but by the system.

He was elected, he will be known as our 45th President, written there in history, forever and ever, god damn it.

I know a lot of my friends who say not my president but I have to play the evil friend, that cock sucker, and say yes, he is our president.


Wandering down the street, coke flying high, each person a sole grain of sand thrown against the beach, wind blown into infinity.

Greats mingling with the whores, the homeless, the young hipsters, their coats pulled tight against the freezing winds and driving rains.

The street, a micropolis of puss filled wounds slammed against the dying of the earth, she weeps fire from her veins, raped in silence.

The sky becomes a dull gray, dreaming, while you are awake, sinister storms on the horizon, the sky, awashed in vibrant dark colors of misled fortunes.

Does death suit you, oh dear one, in Heaven’s embrace, where the moon holds you, till we meet again?

I could not feel my soul, it felt like it was already gone, my mind was left, somewhat, the body, a meat bag, walking among the other meat bags, eyeless hunks of flesh, crashing on the ground.

What a beautiful day,
The sky was blue,
And the tears were rain.
I didn’t feel pain,
I only felt that rage.

Nobody knows
What the sorrow knows,
Nobody knows
What the feeling is,
Pressed against the flame.

Every eyes,
Every body,
We are too sober to see the world,as it should be seen.

Flesh ripped from our bones,
When we die,
Will they care?
Will there be a memory?

We are the dreamers,
Blinded by madness,
Flesh scarred,
Bones broken,
Minds laid bare
To troubled times,
Against the tides
That is the world
In that last breathe,
To see,
When the time has come,
And to be remembered…

I just read the Prez’s tweets (so he got mixed up with role vs. roll! ) about Stormy affair.

I stand by him.


I too was blackmailed by a porn star back in 1988.

It was awful.

My attorney paid her ($12.98 in tacos!) which I reimbursed him for but did not know he had paid her.

I then had her sign a nondisclosure form, not knowing any of this was going on, but my lawyer said it was all good, it would never surface, even though I didnt know, cause I didnt but I kinda did.

I may have slicked my tater dickie in her mustard hole but I dont know, it was the 80s, who remembers back then!!

So here it is, 2018, and people are all like, HE MUSTA KNOWN!!

He’s the Don, people, days from now, you’ll have moved on to something else, like you did when he made that great impression of that retard (psst, we can use that term now since we have one now as Prezadent!!) And said GRAB DA PUSSY!!! And other things.

But we all remember how he is making America great again right??

America is so great, she’s peeing blood. That’s good right??

In America, a non white individual can walk into a Waffle House and have the police called on them.


And anybody can be sucked out of an airplane, realizing their greatest fear!


To get to the dream, with all those great jobs Trump and his supporters like to moo about, you’ll need five.

Unless you want health insurance, then, 10!!


Yes, moo supporters, I can love it or leave it, or I can exercise my right to hiss and bite the fat man and his demon whores.


And if he can tweet, so can I!!


And no, America didnt elect him, a shitty college with no football team did.


I get bored, the TV is on, barking orders from across the room.



She, the lady in the commercial, wonders as she embraces some guy, we don’t know who he is, but we assume he doesn’t have a rubber either.


I try to settle my brain into something, a lullaby by The Blue Oyster Cult.

Random noise, outside, the man across the street screams something at his girl friend.

She’s not wearing pants.


He shrugs as he gets in the car and takes off, leaving her standing there, dancing in the rain showers.

Faceless groups pass by, an interesting scene, Hallmark movies you wouldn’t believe, legends in their own demise.

There’s a message in a bottle floating down the street,


A bit too late, it would feel.

I close the curtains, the sirens of a police car somewhere sounds close.

There could be a knife fight.

Heaven is closed for the night, come back tomorrow.

Good night world….

Hello dear reader,

How are you?

Me, apparently cannot sleep, I’ve been tossing and turning and finally, at 3 am, I decided to stumble into my new, furnitureless living room from my new furnitureless bedroom and write my brain into a tired frenzy so it’ll let me fall fast to sleep.

Sometimes, okay, a lot, my brain decides it wants to think, random crap I can’t change, but bam, why not!

The other night, it decided to throw a girl I had a secret crush on back in elementary school as a “walk on” role in a dream.

It also decide, hey, why not throw a couple of friends in there along with my kid who isn’t even a dirty thought.

Great dream but then I wake up and go, WHAT DA HELL BRAIN?

“I don’t know, it seem right!!” It replies, shrugging as only a brain can only shrug with its lack of shoulders.

If it had eyes, it would have rolled them and said, “Thought you’d like it!!” It sighs, again if it had eyes, it would wink, and grin evily if it had a mouth.

My brain does that weird crap at 2 am, conversates with me, keeping me from sleep, it has done it for a long time, random stuff, things I have no control over, people I miss, people I haven’t thought about in 30 years, but there they are, asking how I am.

“Not too good!” I reply.

So here I sit now, legs crossed, my fingers tapping at my phone’s keyboard, writing poems randomly, letting my brain do its muttering, words flying on screen, hopefully I will fall asleep, 3:30 am, hopefully soon.

I write.

Damn brain, why won’t you calm down?

“Provide the link! To our poetry!”


So there, my brain, the link, are you happy now??


Good night my readers, sleep well…..zzzzzzzz

Another night, the brain is on overdrive, not really a bad thing; another poem to share with you, my dearest reader.

I call these exercises random writings; self taught madness, visits to that part of my brain that sometimes goes unvisited for years at a time but when I do, I come out with the impression that I’m insane; the doctors were right.

“Bed rest and overmedication is recommended for this patient.”

I was once diagnosed as “Not knowing where he is in reference to time and space” by a school psychologist, who would later be caught giving another “unnamed” male a blow job in a bus station downtown USA!

A great way to end a career I guess.

I digress.

I really don’t know where I am in reference to time and space; whatever the hell that means.

Isn’t it 1972 and I’m in the Land of Flying Monkeys and singing jack asses aka Washington DC?

Thought so stupid misdiagnosis of my insanity!!!


 No, I won’t try to explain what it means.

It’s possible it means absolutely nothing, or as Sister Mary once said about my poem I submitted in as part of my homework;

Pure crap!! If I could, I would give a lower grade!  Pure randomness which leads to the masturbatory fantasy of a sexual deviant! If you do not change your ways, you will find yourself in Hell at this rate! F!!!!!!!!!

The F was written in huge swooping sweeps of her skeletal hand; all could see, I was going to be trouble; I was a Catholic school flunkee.

Actually, I never made it past the front door of that school, Sister Mary stood at the door way that first day blocking my way.

“I know the Devil’s spawn; YOU SHALL NOT PASS!!”

So with glee, I went to public school where I passed with a C+ in most of my classes except in current events; I flunked that.

So good night my dear readers and have a better tomorrow



Tonight shared piece comes from my adventures as a homeless grocery store cashier I did back in the summer of 2017.

I kept a journal during those days; was suppose to be a day to day ramblings from that “low point” in my life; but to be truthful, I didn’t keep up and now find myself trying to remember things.

I drank beer and ate chicken I bought at my grocery store.

I sat and talked to folks who wandered into the park; their dogs excited at a chance for a meal of chicken bones and one stealing some of my beer.

“He’s a lush!” his owner, a man named Robert, said, chuckling.

Robert was a 72 year old, half blind man, using the magic of Mary Jane’s girls to keep the peace inside his head, a veteran of the Vietnam War, and peace activist later on.

We’d talk about everything; from politics to landing a sweet young lady who could smother us with a nice soft pillow.

Neither of us would even struggle we both discovered.

Other homeless travelers; looking for work, then moving on, would enter my camp but never stayed as it was just too “Rustic” (no fire pits! It got cold out by the marsh) and they would move on with a wave.


I learned a few things out there; somethings I already knew but till you experience them, you won’t know the truth.

Most people out there, on the streets, do not want to be homeless.

A lot of them have jobs; the cashiers, cart runners, wait staff, etc.

They just don’t make enough money to be able to afford a place to live.

Yes, there are resources for the homeless but there are just too many of the homeless at one time to be helped quickly.

It’s a problem faced everywhere.

I ended up on a “Waiting List” for housing assistance.

A two year (at least) long waiting list.

This is suppose to be the land of milk and honey but there’s not enough milk nor honey.

Everyone is just one stumble from finding themselves in that same situation; without a home.

I was lucky enough to have friends who provided me a place to stay, to shower, etc.

And only found myself for a little over a month living under the branches of a huge tree in a park.

I was also lucky enough to have a job that paid enough for me to eat; to spend a few days in a cheap motel; where I’d shower, snuggle on the bed, watch cable TV and listen to the hookers next door moan out the song “Give it to me baby!” in D-flat.

(Also thanks to friends who sent me money also!!! Cheap beer is your sleep aide and friend out there on the street sadly!)

Today I am a lucky man; moving into my own place with my lady love, a new adventure, but I will always keep those life lessons learned that summer; never to take for granted those things I have; to cherish my friendship and to aid my fellow man when it comes time.

Yes, my dear readers, there are the career homeless; those who stay out there; for whatever reason but for the most part, the people out there are just like you; they just  stumbled and fell; they had the jobs, the houses.

In a lot of places; the homeless are treated as nothing more than animals; chased away, caged, stomped on, bused away to become other peoples’ problems.

The homeless shelters closed; for different reasons.

Attempts to start another one; up to code, are foiled by NOT IN MY NEIGHBORHOOD mentality.

Sadly, the homeless are already in the neighborhoods.

The screams of “Get a job” coming from the mouths of haters; hot coffee thrown into peoples’ faces as they beg or say nothing.

“Trash!” some folks yell, the same folks who call themselves “Good Christians”

The “Trash” at some point in their life before this new chapter were “Productive Citizens” with good jobs, beautiful homes, now reduced to a beaten dog, trying to find their way out of the mire of this homeless life.

Something needs to be done; no one in this country should be homeless or go hungry.

No child should go to bed with an empty stomach.

Everyone should have a bed and a pillow to lay their head; a basic human need you soon discover being a homeless person.

There is no excuse…..