questions and answers merge into one and language I cant tell often words apart..
is there a difference between stealthy...writing it ..makes sense..I dont have this
massive thirties dictionary I used too have..with pictures..thing was....well todays dollars
be about two hundred if u can find a good one....books are still everything..steahily
like deathly..but then see...the structure of sound more then rhyme I go with..
its like very blurry......stealthy ..wealthy...healthy....fretfully ..regretfully..that kind of
thing...glad U saw this..or did you sound it? now see when they do manuscripts it
has too be both correct...or rejection!! why plath and the serious writers of the day
had too be freaking meticulously correct...nothing was automatic then..even the
carriage had to be hit with your hand...click click up too double space.
the world was mechanical and smooth....the papers were onion skin..the font old
school...guess my parents were smart...their kid was smart..everyone after was
foster and adopted....collins something..red faded cover..weighed about fifteen
pounds maybe more...for me a sound of a poem is like a sculpted thing....
a feeling of shape...mood..texture...flashes of look..like life..people give you those
short hits...or the long haul wait....like waiting for the copper green and blue of
niagra carry chunks of ice over...visual...sounds....smells..textures....like this
every day of my life forevah....I like the word and use of grate too...

late...gotta go...thank U

foraged driven Like their men! hunter gatherer
the alpha..the commerce speed thee master
priest shaman annunciator voice

cigarette leaning
gunslinger eyes
and a voice
that spoke like the wind
before the terrible storm
stirring
the potted plants
the chimes
combing their hair
loose on gingham
and cover alls
suit jackets

the restless dogs
whining
in the alleys

we are berthed in the beginner
voyage nine months
if we are lucky
before the voyage
send off
bright lights and brass
band
and now to survive
our sea trials
and battles

I was engrained with the most
hard assed women
I only dated the most hard
assed women
I gave a child to the most
hard assed woman
my mothers were the most
hard assed
of women
I was adopted and cared
by the most connected
of the women

and still being a man
held back my rights to
the Oh boy
not Old boy club

finding in the most harshest of men
the ties to the aprons
they dreamt of no matter how harsh
how indifferent they felt
their fathers whip
lash
beaten by galoshers
tongue
fists
but always the love
and want too their mother

it was my sisters whom told me
of the great world
sixties and seventies
my father too lost to
play ball or hockey but he
taught us..
car repair and shooting guns
shared his fish and game
he brought to supplement
us...loved us
and mother whom knit us
sweaters against the cold
slipped us money she
earned from hard work
as a nurses aid
meaning she cleaned bed pans
bathed patients..saw the
horrors of that show
and found the humor too survive
turning handling the dead
and dying
and politics

I was lucky I did not have too chose
like many

I was abandoned..rumor had it
they found me starved and forgotten
for four days in a motel room
in picts I was starved looking
and still my history is gaurded
the ghost of my mother passed
from a tummy tuck infection
birth..and adoptive mother
consumed by the cancer
the dragon lady defined

so much....i could write a book

but the women guiding me
dressing me
styling me
sending me out for them
like a runner in the ruins
ammo and fresh rations
a swat on the head
keep me in my place

if I had have worn the crown
of righteous male
I cant imagine
how the alpha ego
would have grabbed
it
thrown all under the bus

the terrible fuss

I like whom I am today
pick a persona
the killer awoke before dawn
he put his shoes on
he took a face from the
ancient gallery and
he walked on down
the hall....James morrison
but I dig him
and I like myself

..

thank U