Coyote Trails

[the mingo]

I wondered what Mississippi Gene would say if he could see me

On The Road - Jack Kerouac

I don't know, Wireman, if i had tits i might expose them - especially for money but even then i would be thinking of the ghost towns back in the hills - i'd never be inclined to display them for love or money though if the temperature was below 60 degrees - no way no how

[the mingo]

Outside, the station wagon loaded, I tossed the keys to Estin. "You up to a bit of driving?" "Sure," Estin said. "Anywhere but here, right?"

Lost Highway - Richard Currey

the morning shadows were on the snow - it was what faith was showing me of the passing moment & i did not question it - no human being has ever defeated time and no human being ever will - the days come to pass bringing what they will and then they move on taking away with them what they will -

[WIREMAN]

......highways, i spent my life.....upon open roads i was flung.....from an early time when fenders were big and chrome ruled.....gimme a two tone.....no make that 3....tahatchapi to tonapah....

[the mingo]

i hear that - done my road time - still use them for the bicycle - that's the only roadgoing i enjoy anymore - i like biking a country road but i enjoy bombing around towns & city streets too - especially on the Tripel - nine degrees above zero which makes it 18 degrees warmer than what it was when i woke up this morning and my mind is on bikes - guess the dreaming won't stop 'til i do - wrote a poem today after i said i was done with it - i always speak too soon - i was reading an article about robinson jeffers when it began to percolate thru my head - post it in poetry later then i will go off to eat some crow

[WIREMAN]

just glitched out of a nice post.....ugh! ....well them spirits is acting up....post that poem mingo....i'm sure i will do one again too ......here goes....submit!

[the mingo]

... just ordered a kindle edition of Dr. Sax - don't know why - don't know anything about it or what it is about - going in cold radar be damned -

Operator, this is my last dime
it's hell over the ridges
and can you tell me
where all that groundfire
is coming from ?

(piece of verse from a poem i wrote 40 some odd years ago)

Dr. Sax here i come ...

[the mingo]

well trash is trash as they say - and there are no more "dumps" not open air ones at least not around here -

- there used to be & i remember it -

i remember seagulls filling the air over them and crying out to the damned and - rats - one of the pleasures of boyhood was to grab your .22 and go to the dump & shoot maim wound fuck up & otherwise kill rats - hundreds of them - as many as you had ammo for - the dump was rat heaven rat paradise -

but it's all changed now - the "dump" has magically become a "transfer station" underground railroad style - there's this steel corrugated building you back your car/truck into then you throw your trash into a chute at one end of the floor there - it falls into a big trailer behind a big truck & when full the truck drives it all off somewhere over the horizon - sneaky - and they took all the fun outta the "dump" - that's an honest word, dump - transfer station on the other hand is one of those sleazy slippery teflon words - words used to cover over something - words used to obfuscate - and the world is full of them now, in fact you can construct whole sentences of teflon speak - the world of men has long since fallen to the teflon words - to hear them come off the tongue and enter the ear is like preferring a blowup sex doll to the real thing - cold, plastic, fake -

teflon words are what my grandfather would have called the "snakeshit issue of low lying cocksuckers" unquote - my grandfather had a brutally beautiful way with truth - his utterances used to frighten me as a child - he's been in the ground for about three decades now and his attitudes & the language that went with them are there in the grave with him - they no longer frighten me & not because they are buried with him either but because they have become even more powerful as i have grown older - i find they shine like gold in the razor-edged rays of a rising winter sun -

- hell yeah, mongolia -

[the mingo]

... and I knew I was haunted but said nothing ... Memory & dream are intermixed in this mad universe.

Dr. Sax - Jack Kerouac

Dr. Sax is blowing me away !!!!!!!!!!!!

i have not read all of Kerouac's writings - just one here & one there and maybe another somewhere else - in those i have read i have always had my telling bone tickled by his use and handling of language - it's always creative with a capital C - i am not among his venerators and i am not one of those to worship the ground he walked on - that said this piece of work is genius - pure fucking pure Fuck! Me! Fierce! Forever! Genius - 5 chapters in i had to stop go back to the beginning because i was running it like a coyote in full tilt - whew ! (wiping sweat from brow) -

flesh gives birth to flesh
spirit gives birth to spirit
yassssssss o yassssssss !
i bo-leeve in kick-the-can!
this book burst out of the sea
and swallows me whole o fuck & jellyroll pie -
conjured - it was conjured
it's a chant an invocation -
what word is big enough?
what word is deep enough?

by what name?
Dr. Sax that's WHO !!!

Ha! middle of a dark january night & i'm riding the Kerouac Express head-on - Jack you sad sad boy child - you came out of america and you went back into america God bless you you wasted french fried flood mouth saintbrain !

[the mingo]

"By Gosh," says my father patting his belly, "that was a good meal."
Step softly, ghost

Dr. Sax - Jack Kerouac

in the morning waking after sleep & recognizing that opening the eyes every day day after day
is destiny - the wind is roaring out there this morning - a sustained sound which i love to hear -
it is picking up snow that has already fallen and is swirling it around - the white desert has come to me - i didn't have to make arrangements or buy a ticket or nothing - didn't even have to move an inch - or a millimeter as they say these days - unlike other seasons winter can come from one moment to the next or suddenly appear between moments - it just comes into the neighborhood and takes over - winter is a fascist -

[the mingo]

sun came out - wind is roaring - i'm deep in the mindfuck of Dr. Sax - all i can say is this ain't no Ray Bradbury or electric kool aid humpty dumpty
man o man - been reading around what people have said about this - a lot of vehement negative rhetoric about this - ol' Jack might as well have offered himself up as sad samurai sword fodder with rain dripping off his lampshade hat - lotta men mostly throwing shit - or totally at the other extreme of fallen ass-all in love of it - hell, does no one remember that stage of life? hell, does anyone remember this present stage of life? i think by the time i come to the end of this book i'm going off to chant somewhere

a full-on full-throated two-lunged
deep-out-of-the-heart chant
talk about spirits, Wireman, like you was
saying the other day
this thing is talking to me
booliezooo alawangfangbuck !!
color me amazed to my toes
stretched out banged out mongolia on steroids !

[WIREMAN]

Jack and nothin but Jack
hard to believe he could write
soooooooooooo good during
that cold war time....each
one of his works amazing
during the early 50's....his
pain....his glee....his angst...
his triumphs....he hid nothing
its little wonder that i met
him on that dharma bum
playground and was liberated
during the summer of '73
perhaps he was an incarnation
of manjushri, he was a pained
god moaning for man.....

[the mingo]

he was a pained
god moaning for man.....

well that about rips it ... i ain't enjoyed a book so much as this in a long long time - what a feast !

[the mingo]

when the doctor told me how to take the pills he was prescribing me he said:
"Take them first thing in the morning, don't eat anything for three hours afterwards." Ok. Simple. Right? -

what the Doc didn't mention was the pills making my stomach growl & cramp as if it were hungry - uh-huh - so every morning now i go through this - war - it's war - Bukowski said: "War all the time" - and he hit that head on the nail when he said it -

i've never been one for the preaching of righteous endurance when it came to suffering or even discomfort - that attitude never made or ever will make any sense to me - if you have a problem face it deal with it and get on with it - pursue happiness as a warrior in strength of spirit with your heart fixed solid on the goal or shoot yourself in the head -

So -

i took my pills about a quarter of an hour ago - now my stomach is growling and cramping to beat all - fuck 'em - toast and peanut butter here i come - and no one goes off to war without a good war song in their ammo pouch -

bon appetit
www.youtube.com/watch?v=QzC_rGX-XyM

[WIREMAN]

my stomach grumbling
ran out of nexium
alka seltzer works
till i get to the store
took a week to get
there, none in my path
with drugs, all the places
ya gots to have a car
as luck would have it
there was one across
from the funeral parlor
yesterday.....ugh!

[the mingo]

you just stop what you're doing and sit down or sit up and write - anywhere anytime about anything - there's a town way up north of here where all of main street, every building from one end to the other is made from gray quarry stone - sure it looks archaic today or whenever 'right now" is but to the builders it was the future - the future that held within itself that nod to the past simultaneously - that's what writing is - the glorious fucked mind taking note & making notes -
the sun moves backward so all can see it - you make a river where the water at the falls falls up - it's easier than it sounds and when you see it you get delighted and go off thinking that was right - so anyone who writes is a plugged-in magician or musician - but if you've got your tacking skills in order you can ride right up the wind and it's no magic at all but just using what is to hand to get to where you might be going because tragedy is the father of everything and the coffee has run out -