Bandit Notions

[the mingo]

"Kevin could smell the sweat from the woman's pantyhose.
Piecemeal June - Jordan Krall


In the supernatural season you cannot wear antlers at the Motherhood Hotel. Breast augmentation is a bluegrass city limit beyond which the big bang theory crys & crys in dual audio mode. Photographs of assassinations unwind to vacancy all the way back to the first white girl born underfoot in America. She died young perhaps & with a tambourine in her hand.

The tambourine was buried with her.

The goggle monster stands on the corner, swim fins at the ready. The Indians had told me I might find such things but I did not believe them. I would stand certain with anyone because of the mind. It cannot leave without us. There are ways to say weapons without winter being in the yard. Just because the government is more than an efficiency apartment does not mean it is a high-rise home either. More like a bunkhouse on a large ranch. Caravans in a pup tent. Brain, bone, & bladder - fallopian tubular - the tools of pirates, treasure & treachery. Aye-aye.

My gecko is faster than your gecko. na-na nana na - & my ground skink is double perverted more than yours.

I go out the door in the morning singing, "She's my supergirl & I love her"

[the mingo]

"Go ahead, try and frighten gravity, see what it gets ya!"
The Book of Dogs - Anon.

I'm not a revenge passenger but what is right in the exodus is right in the escapade. I get texts from women in donut shops giving me out to love talk on tiny backlit screens. I read them all even when they interrupt my hunt - who wouldn't? Trojan vaginas that penetrate my tumors for the greater good, the click of Pandora's bones in my pocket on a day when the sun comes up. My fellow man searches for the very farthest star and calls it science but I think it's just a race to see who gets there first. Millions, millions spent on the toys ya need for that game yet any given paragraph anywhere can be had for just the choosing.

If I were a chariot racer in the Coliseum it would seem prudent not to stress wooden wheels in the turns.

[the mingo]

The naked browser. Can't help it - things pop up. The phone began to feed me voices about half way through the year 1951. I was validated by the voices. I asked the voices when it would be my turn to be the pony. When you get to the ocean, Bubble Eyes, when you get to the sea is what they told me. But I knew too much. Arms would grow out of the ceiling but Santa the Chimney Sweep told me there was nothing to be afraid of so I began crossing the continent to get away from my aunt and her hungry cookies. Far away to the promise of the sea. Far away from the cars left in the woods. Far away from fantasy coyotes and women with dark hair. But the sea was a lie. All of it - lies. Right down to the girls with their hands in the grocery bag - and the women who knelt on the floor behind them, watching. It was right then I decided to go to gathering prehistoric stuff. I gathered & gathered. Now my house is full of it. Prehistoric stuff is everywhere in here. On the counter tops. On the chairs. On the couch. On the toilet tank. Every horizontal surface is covered with it. Except for the bed. I think because sleeping is such an important activity. You don't want to be dealing with prehistoric stuff when you are sleeping. Sleeping takes 100% focus. If you don't do your sleeping just right the ponies will die or a man will enter your kitchen with a sledgehammer in one hand and a two foot long pipe wrench in the other. He will hold them over his head as he looks you in the eye and says to you, "I'm ready." He drives around in an alligator. He loves that thing.

[the mingo]

Midwives are an important part of the messenger business. Only after the locksmiths have done their work can the lyricists do theirs.
The Book of Dogs - Anon.

[stilltrucking]

.
"Lies all lies, I am a truck I own you" A. Sexton blessed be her memory

when memory gets twisted through the lens of time past, I think I had a coffee table book once upon a time, well I still got a couple of those but the one I am trying to remember was called the family of man, or maybe it had a more academic title like Anthropology Illustrated.
Well—but anyway, there was a tribe of people somewhere that left a woman alone when her time came, as if pregnancy was her misfortune.

Birth is an abstract notion for me. I had a dream about it once upon a time when I was sleeping on some hay bales near my elephants in Montreal's Civic Center. It was a very lyrical dream

ramble ramble
smoke and gamble

[the mingo]

I wasn't there for the birth of my first son but I was right there for the birth of the second. Just his mother, me, & him in that upstairs room. On the last contraction of hers he came popping out & I do mean popped. Right into my hands. Like all of us covered head to foot in birth goo. Ain't no other word for it. Dried him off a bit and put him to his mother. I don't remember what I did after that. To this day I don't remember. Cleaned up the blood on the bed later, bagged up the placenta, her idea. She was going to bury it under a tree. I don't remember that either, burying it that is. All I remember is him popping into my hands. I don't know how long I held him like that. I do remember saying to him, "Welcome to the world, kid,
you are east of Eden and this is the land of Nod."

Thx, Jack.

[stilltrucking]

"Welcome to the world, kid,
you are east of Eden and this is the land of Nod."

I saw a headline today that said George W. Bush's approval rating has soared. The land of Nod indeed.

This might be the tribe I was thinking of.
I was a student of anthropology during my college career. They used to say that the proper study of man is mankind.
But womankind is interesting too
If I had a daughter I would want her to read Blackberry Winter by Margaret Meade.

Child Birth

The ǃKung consider the earth the first mother of all people in the tribe.
ǃKung women give birth with the earth as primary midwife (a form of unassisted childbirth) walking away from the village camp as far as a mile during labor and birthing the child alone, delivering it into a small leaf-lined hole dug into the warm sand. The child's cord is not clamped or cut (a form of Lotus birth or umbilical nonseverance), and the placenta is delivered and put next to the child, as guardian. Shortly thereafter, the baby-placenta is lightly covered with another large leaf, and the new mother walks a short way to verbally alert the older women of the completed birth, at which time they join the mother and child in a ritual welcoming. If a laboring woman is delayed in returning a sign to the village that she has given birth, the older women will come looking for her to assist; however, it is said to be a rare occurrence.[4]

wicki

"I realized how homesick I had been and how starved for affection, a need that had been met only in part when I held the Holt children in my arms or played with the Samoan babies. It is the babies who keep me alive in contexts in which otherwise my sense of touch is seldom exercised. Some fieldworkers adopt a dog or a kitten; I much prefer babies. I realized now how lonely I had been, how much I wanted to be where someone else wanted me to be just because I was myself."

Blackberry Winter

[SadLuckDame]

I realized now how lonely I had been, how much I wanted to be where someone else wanted me to be just because I was myself."

Very nice bit of heart in that. Actually, liked the voice within all of this.

Made me think about how God has never asked me, not once ever, to give up my sense of self, in fact I think He greatly asks for me to find it, run after that, because it is a gift He has gifted me and all the me...s. I think I know and have understood that it is only that He wants to be a part of it, which is amazing.

I don't think I'll ever stop being wondered that he picked me up, Wee-might messy me, picked me right up and isn't at all thinking change her up, change her up and then I'll keep her.

[the mingo]

My leg is cut loose - time to get loud!
The Book of Dogs - Anon.

I could almost, only watching the river drop after the rush of snowmelt. The table has a tail whose thread goes into my throat. Makes direction superfluous. A parcel of a woman with gloves in her stomach what's the library line-up today? Fertile first & last. Ticketed toes.
I don't know whose birthday it is but to be bent toward the blue is material to work much out of. Bricks of the living equal fat & sudden paychecks - ha-ha, you're dreaming!

The "Wedding March" it's called. Can you believe it? Somebody give Ol' Rommel a call! The difference between a beautiful woman & a handsome one is that I'll take the handsome one every time. They just get to me. I mean who else am I going to intelligently talk to if not myself?

Ok - I gotta get off this meat grinder and top off my tank plus the raccoon bones I found yesterday are calling me to glue them into something. People standing on bridges hand me requests that are thick and sometimes tight, other times transparent as a street lined with shops. It was so funny yesterday when the mailperson asked me to whistle through a window. I thought I would bust a gut.

Delivery anyone?

[the mingo]

"There ain't no wild horses out on Wild Horse Road" - John Stewart

"You gotta watch that big animal - he step on your foot & you gonna be in a world of hurt"
The Book of Dogs - Anon.

goin down to the document - to the atmosphere of midsummer - gonna swelter with the tambourine gonna play house with obtuse offloads - gonna take a picture with my dogsled asteroid and wax the bees with ancient algorhythmic sympathies - the decimal December a memory now & no stopwatch on the dreadful - crumple my dupont & enchant my enterprise the event will not be like a mother fact - the smoke will sneeze and the morning will be like waking up in the mountains

[the mingo]

the 'starving time" ... research team identifies features ... 14 year old girl ... skeletal remains ... provided context ... cannibalized ... tissue from face & throat removed - skull opened to get brain ... desperation ... unusual post-mortem treatment of girl's body ... cuts & chops ... lack of butchering experience ... clear intent ...

3D imaging used to recreate a digital & medical reconstruction of skull - face remodeled -

- conspicuously missing from the digital & medical reconstruction are the emaciated faces of those who ate from her corpse.

Hello America! - written in bone ...

[stilltrucking]

"The first explorers had been greeted by the natives with lavish feasts and supplies of maize, but as the English, lacking the inclination to grow their own food, became hungry and began to strong-arm more and more supplies from nearby villages, relations quickly deteriorated and eventually led to conflict..." wicki

Yes they were English gentlemen

[the mingo]

There had been so many good beginnings here & there in this country - but as Scripture witness's to - "there is no one righteous, no not one" - I think of all that was lost in the rush to gain - when I look at conflicts wherever in the world today I am remembered to something my uncle said on a camping trip into the mountains - he said, "whatever is of greed in your enemy is of greed in yourself as well" - at the time I thought he was being wise but I no longer think that today - I think he was just standing with truth.

[stilltrucking]

"You, hear me! Give this fire to that old man. Pull the black worm off the bark and give it to the mother. And no spitting in the ashes!"

It’s an odd little speech. But if you went back 15,000 years and spoke these words to hunter-gatherers in Asia in any one of hundreds of modern languages, there is a chance they would understand at least some of what you were saying.

Linguists identify 15,000-year-old ‘ultraconserved words’

[the mingo]

The language is full of living fossils, signs of what & where we have been - that's what I think too. Thx for that, Jack.