Mile Marker Zion

[stilltrucking]

I read in a book, heard on a tape actually. Alan Watts talking about Christian Platitudes. Never a word about Buddhist Platitudes. I guess there are no Buddhist Platitudes. No language has more dead metaphors than Christianese.

Nietzsche died for our sins.

I gave up on haiku.

[stilltrucking]

Wicki-scan is a neat little program that lets you see who is editing a wicki.

Union Carbide Dow Chemical editing a wicki about Bhopal
Exxon editing a wicki on the Alaskan oil spill.

A place for discrimination.

I am into playing dumb
as much fun as I have anymore

except for reading mingo's lingo

I am just waiting for a taxi
passing the time of day

I am not marrying anybody


My favorite Christian Platitude is
"Love your enemy"

If I make it to heaven
I would expect to see all the Popes and generals
made it too
the dictators and war criminals
all dogs go to heaven.

live long and be preposterous
that is how I see it

next time
if there is a next time
I will take notes
Like Billy Collins in Writing in The Afterlife.
So many brilliant writers came out of World War Two

I suppose war must be good for something.

[stilltrucking]

If I can make it another 24 hours with out killing another house pet
I be rocking and rolling to get my life back.

I knew she was going to stick this cat on me. Little does she know, this pussy is going home.

Have fun on your run here it is on another page and I can't see your posts.

I hate when that happens.

I will have to cut and paste

we were talking about metaphorical kingdoms I believe.

language confusion and jam
cybernetic daddy oh
in
The Human Use of Human Beings

be back after I adjust my attitude do some copy and paste
I enjoyed what I remember of it,
no picture today

[stilltrucking]

I walk around with folding money in my pocket, sometimes.

The old woman gave me her last twenty bucks before she died.

But I try to save as many dimes as I can.

I might need to stop on one.


I been listening to the voices in my head again

I hope they don't annoy you.

I know those voices just as well as morrison

but he could hear the music

it is hard to be humble

when you are dumb as diana moon glampers.

my anger makes me nauseous

when the adrenalin goes sour in my blood

my Super Ego kicks in
and jimmy cricket says
what's so great about winning
I would be satisfied to be a nice guy
playing to win is a young man's game
god bless them and keep them
my hope is always in the next generation

man it is snakes on everything here.
medusa must be redeemed
Blood is thicker than water
(is that one dead yet)
I could care less about my bills
It is my dues I am behind in.

[stilltrucking]

I go gotta do this cause the page kicked over and you are out of sight.

Mingo wrote:

Espresso yourself in the brain.

In the Kingdom of God will leftovers never spoil?

While researching alien hand syndrome a few moments ago I came across the phrase "dead metaphor". The article said language is full of these things. Wikipedia is a strange & awesome country. Enter at risk. Remember your brain. There are so many ways of looking at language. Like it was a woman who carried around a purse decorated with three wild horses running across it. She never said but I guessed it was how she paid her bills.

O Yankee Doodle looking for the summer is upon you like roads turned black by rain your boat your bowl of cherrios and your other children are in the cupboard. The sound the oar makes passing dark water. The smell of someone's hair double hammers your smiling snail. You have a car but balloons & rushing buses put a flower over various doodles of your head. Looking further. To the coast. To plasma.

Jell-o has no south pole. There has never been a drive-in theater at the South Pole. No mosquitos.

Legion. The crowd in the face.

God points to everyone and says Who would roll when they could rock?

If you can't have fun you can't have anything. Also known as the blond looking past the camera with concern on her face for the three ships sailing. The maps to such places are a woman's arms seeking to hold on by embracing. A circle of touch is first bird singing when there is no light yet.

[stilltrucking]

If I am not rolling I am not having fun
Them wheels used to go round
Clicking off dimes and quarters
And I was making a good living doing what I love
What is more precious than a baby sister.

“It is a big old goofy world”

shrine prine

I never been married but I spent my last dime on a divorce.
This time I am hoping they make it work
been almost thirty years now they been married all in all. I can’t afford another divorce.

I have walked away from my life so many times. I remember a quizzical look from her death bed alamo rose her mother gave me
when I said I would look out for her.



Having a baby sister brings all of the blessings of a woman’s love, with no down side except for the occasional cat.


yes in search of the lost metaphor
the holy grail of hipness


Poets keep the language from dying
Did you bow down and worship a poet to day

Mingo's lingo baby
like coming to the end of the road

roll on roll on
mingo lingo

[the mingo]

I was getting set up to write back but then this mosquito landed on my 'puter and tried to bite it as in sucking blood. I was astonished. No shit he stuck his proboscis into the tiny space between the keyboard & the computer housing and couldn't get it out. His body was vibrating & buzzing in the attempt to get free but no go. I watched him for a few moments before I heard myself asking myself "What the hell are ya doin' ?" I tried blowing him off but that didn't work so I thought if I could get one of his back legs between my thumb & forefinger I might be able to help him out. Nada. I did get hold of one of his hind legs & I swear I thought I was being gentle but that leg tore loose in my fingers without even trying. Now the skeeter is really freaking out. I held that loose leg of his on the end of my fingers and said "Shit, screw this" and made of him a flat animal with my thumb. Then I wiped off the remains off with a dry tissue. I can't remember now what I was going to write you. I've had enough for the day.

[myrna minkoff]

I got this cat who has just been castrated freaking out on my keyboard and I been kind and gentle with him. But last time, this time I felt a twinge. Not a headless rooster for me but a dead rat with maggots.

"No good deed goes unpunished"

please pardon the "minkoff mynx"
she my latest literary doll
I was on my way to denver
when I noticed your reply

too lazy to log out and log in

Hell yes
Walk away
I would
but I have learned when not to turn my back
and I have never even been to war
I am a peaceable man too.
I agree.

I wish you love peace and McLatke grease from McHolyland
over and out

sinecerely
stilltrucking et al.

[the mingo]

Apparently there are things to do in Denver after your dead. I heard that somewhere I think. I hesitate to think where.

[the mingo]

Nancy just learned from the neighbor that the bird festival was canceled for lack of interest. She really wanted to see it. We went last year. Joseph Firecrow was there and he played his flute & said some cool things that didn't concern birds at all. I bought a coffee mug with a hawk on it. I usually don't indulge in that kind of thing but it was so cheap I had to leave my tree and take the advantage as it was presented to me. I bought a camouflaged ballcap another time for the very same reason. Never in any wild dream did I ever picture myself owning one of those.

[the mingo]

It's raining. As you see, because of this I have nothing to do at the moment. Things get much greener around here I'll have to buy sunglasses with yellow lenses.

[the mingo]

Minkoff's alright with me.

[stilltrucking]

No no thank you
very gracious of you to say that

minkoff mynx was a momentary lapse.

judih and Doreen agree and I do now too
that I had best keep my sock puppets in a drawer on my artlog

especially the female literary dolls

I love the touch at the first bird song before it is light.

but even after all these years just the sound of that bird song and being alive in the darkness of an early morning is as good as it gets for me even without touch it is still good enough

I should be more grateful for the help

This morning the first touch was in the form of a pussy cat sitting on my face.



I always liked that tag line of yours

Bird songs such a sweet mystery
I stumbled on
The Nightingale and The Rose a couple weeks ago.

A lot of fun to read.

[the mingo]

"There are still a few animals left out in the yard..."
The Doors

Went down to the lake shore day before yesterday looking for tiny tiny stones for a mosaic I'm working on. I'll take an object and cover it with beads. I've gotten into this for reasons unknown to me. Anyways I use other things too, mix them right in there with the beads. Get some wild combos that way. While walking along I was startled by the sight of a seagull's wing sticking up out of the stones on the shore. Just the wing. The body was buried and made unseeable by the rocks.
Could anyone write that poem? That white wing sticking up.

Didn't get my stones. Traded them for the sight of a single wing and the day with me in it moved on.

The whoosh of the spin of the wheels and the deeper grinding sound underneath pushed me up on the wave...

Miss Maggie M'Gill & me... and the shoreline coming up fast...

Flying through a stone sky - complete stillness in every beat

[the mingo]

I have discovered that spontaneous creations forge their own shape.
They are never informal gatherings. They ring true. If they fall over they fall over as a unit. Always greater things reveal themselves.
Vulnerability. They always have vulnerability. This is an attribute of every living thing.