grade five i could read to the class and hold them mesmerized
not from the great voice i dont have..but in the delivery of oration
the pressure points of story.....pretty much the end of me selling
ideas..im terrible at it...so i assumed the alpha assist...

what the fuck is that? or wtf for those non texters..

maybe asthma maybe being moms fave she could spare
mike kind of in hunting fishing...but we didnt get in on that..
both read books..comix..he didnt have asthma and got
along well with the rougher mix.....i was urged for the
more articulated crowd and didnt make it....
i competed with the males....was something different
thankfully not out of reach of my brains of which i had
some.....poetry came out in high school...no trade no
hope..no job..dads car..mom split happier life..he was
stable..income..retirement...simpler people...i got along
well enough...kind of......was only when i read milton
acorn and knew of him...that i realized that there was
aptitude in this for rough hewns....

not for once did i think i can make a living in poetry or
art which im very good at..enough that with polish.
with finish could i be better.....im drawn like a moth to
the complicated and complex lives of the articulated
maybe because i feel i cast a shadow then in their
light....the nirvana of this idea of being a poet is that
the poetry is an option...for intents and purposes
i was a social outcast and still may be....the dynamic
thing is the poetry...the voice...

many are great mothers and tradespeople
hustlers and groovers..
but to be honest before i hit fifty soon
i somehow just manage to manage myself
about in life
..
but the latter poems
are glimpses into where
i manage

i dont think anyone wants to have the crap
happen to them that does..
from reading biographies and what not..
and i put my families through hell by
choices to survive..
the ego survive
..minimalist hanging on
and how many near misses
..
but ive seen many
of others..enough to know
that we have more lives
then cats..
some of us

im an old cat
and maybe my gift
was just to drop into
the real worlds
and hang about
move on

maybe that is my real world
so poetry is just a translation
of this
visions of the life
whatever that was
or is..

simple as it is
finishing my works
would be a start
some of them

maybe im ready to face
that

been through some grueling
things emotionally
so handling neoland is
an easement to what ive
endured

what am i saying..
i have to get out of the poet
and into the poetry

i wanted to get out of the boat
but my typewriter is in the boat
and you only get out of the
boat if your going al the way

i dont think im ready for that
yet..
got some dispatches to
finish up