vantiy its all vanity
that is all this is
This ain't nothing
not a go
just more about me
not worth reading
And F scot Fitzgerald loved Zelda in Baltimore
depression just stormy weather for me
I keep on trucking looking for an uncloudy day
about all that depresses me these days is the fact
I used to be smart
a real little professor as a child
I might have done more with my life
help heal the sick and the violent
if I had not been so crazy all these years
time ticking
I am in such a hurry
trying to write something that I don't know what
a dissertation on metaphysical homelessness maybe
I been living next to nothing for 33 years
less than nothing the past 27
sometimes I become almost catatonic
frozen in depression
you are a fortunate son mark
to have Jack Coburn for a father.
Decisions, so many choices I see
so I hide in a corner until life overtakes me
and decisions become moot
I would be better off with the I ching I think
the proper study of mankind is women
I used to think
I spent a the last 33 years living beside Sylvia Plath
and her novel The Bell Jar
I thought I could learn something from her
Women are so much better at blood sports
"the blood jet is poetry
there is no stopping it"
and some think her suicide was nothing more that a hellish episode of PMS when she was most vulnerable.
Nothing a unwomb man can learn
Now I see that was akin to tilting at wind mills
What could I know about the vissitudes of female physiology
Not the facts
just the experience
of the phenomenology of female spatiality
it's a tough job
somebody got to do it
men get off easy
I suppose that is why the Talmud said
something about "thank you oh creator of the universe for creating me a man" mangled quote from memory
Anne Sexton picked me up when I was down and out
I thought I could learn something from her too
When Jesus Suckled a bad poem the english professors say
but she gave me an insight into the impact of pregnancy on a woman's life. Like getting hit by a Mack truck.
"No,
Lies, all lies
I am a truck, I own you "
But lately I stumbled on Kerouac
Not Sal Paradise but the man himself
St Jack
From him I think I can learn something
He is like a joyfull Kafka to me
I have been homeless but it was only a metafiscal not metaphysical kind of homelessness
If not for Jesus Christ providing me free showers at the Union Gospel mission
and the Tax payers providing me free access to the library
and a forty foot statue of Athena to medatate on
I might not have survived those first years after spider love and the abortion that followed that.
If not for Nashville, the Athens of the south.
Found a home in the Quakers for a while
they drifted off back to Baltimore
family ties
how many times have I trashed my life
just to keep ties to my family
I wonder if I left any fingerprints on my mother's neck
the day JFK was murdered
the day of my murderous rage
came spewing up
From Aprill 1962 to Novemeber 22, 1963 the anger seethed
and then I become a man who raged against women
men who rage at women for being women.
So much doublemindedness going on these days
No wonder so many women are on the road
Women been good to me
they always treated me kindly
Maybe it is because my Grandmother still protects me from the evil eye.
Madame defarge and the witch of Buchenwald got nothing on me
just a fantascy
I am not a nice guy
I know myself all to0 well
all too human
thanks for the Quakers who made me a Jew with a protestant conscience, my work is
Life Against Death. I have become a knight it rusty dented, stained armour riding off into the sunset in search of fair virgin dragons in need of resucing from raging maidens.
Inheriting from the Protestant tradition a conscience which insisted that intellectual work should be directed toward the relief of man’s estate
I thank you for the music Mark
your words got a beat I can never know
My words stumble and bumble after yours.
Insanity runs in my family
maybe that is why homeboy diecided to become a pyschiatrist
and F scott Fitzgerald loved Zelda
Check out God Bless you Mr Rosewater
I loved that book
Sometimes crazy is the only option Vonnegut
but its like a lemon into lemonade I think
I am just a Zen want to be
a lazy practicer
in search of slow moving dreams
a zen-judist
quaker warrior
the fool on the hill
