waiting for my muse in a dark alley with an aluminum bat

unedited pure neanderthal musings NeANDERThallus's DONut EDiT!!! historical records from my cave walls... brutality, menial labor, minor victories, hot sexy interludes....... 3 years on the edges of a society that i cant distance myself enough from

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since 2005 i've been picking at this keyboard. the thoughtstreams flow, who knows from whence they came, or to whence they go? enjoy the ride...... i am

Tuesday, January 26, 2010

80 percent of college grads never open a book again
something like the same percentage never walk into a bookstore
thats why im selling my book at gas stations and seven elevens
it will have to catch the eye of the gas buying public and the eye of the dude who is just inthere to buy a blunt.
the title will have to cause a fight and probably i will need boobs
a second offering will try to entice the female
the female who wasnt attracted to the boob/gas/pot themed cover
the typical american gal
the elusive beauy
the muse, the sphinx the pruduct of fever dreams
the results oriented gal, who knows just wher eyou fit in her life plan

the female who just wants gas...
but whats this? ..........
that book is provoking me to buy it
..........
with its provacative title and alluring artwork..it speaks to me on a genetic level as a female
ive got to have that book about...

knitting the perfect jockstrap?
untraceable household poison combinations?
the puppy and unicorns are super awesome club?

im close
im very close

coming to a gas station near you with a series of boooks for true americans who want easy to read books about things they can easily understand that arent the tv guide

im going to flesh out the puppy/unicorn idea and write the first couple of chapters and shop it around
that idea has legs

Saturday, January 23, 2010

bukowski spent 15 days at the moyamensing prison
im a 1/2 block off moyamensing
i propose that we drink a toast to him on the site of the prison at 7 oclock or so
on the way over to the second half of the festivities
the "so you think u are charles bukowski" contest
we'll do the ALL MY FRIENDS toast at the triangle tavern
across the street from the prison
spend an round or two there and then head for center city for the reading
maybe stop at dirty franks on the way to the reading
just cuz i like it there if for no other reason
maybe thats the tee shirt design
ALL MY FRIENDS in block type
maybe a face on the back
entitles you to happy hour prices all day at the shamrock
and for an hour or two at other participating establishments
its an idea anyway......

Friday, January 22, 2010

idiots still poke at the lion
even with my hair this way,
and beard all crazy
they poke
and poke

this lion is getting older
maybe they wonder how my teeth will hold up

these youngsters
these kittens
my teeth are fine

i disengage from people to keep my stress levels low
im a natural teacher
i teach a street level course in cause and effect
i see potential students every time i leave my shitpartment
i teach people that calling my raises is folly
and i show them my bluffs
tahts the kind of poking that paid my rent this month
thats the kind of poking i apprec
iate
this month i am the poke king
thank you for shopping bakeowski
come again
see you next week

im trying not to teach my lessons for free
to random street assholes and bar degenerates
they mostly understand
they mostly back off

you cant hit me any harder than ive hit myself
thats the beauty of rugby
you share the impact almost equally
the trick is to land on them
twist in the air and shift your weight so you land on them
the ground making the other part of the sandwich
the "oof" sound when their lungs exhale on impact

i try to explain my high tolerance for pain to idiots to save them a beating
or maybe im saving me

maybe i am a pussy

so poke the nearest lion

see what era he's living in

is the post bad-ass lion, living on a dream?
is he genuine badass lion, still working out ?
a fat guy on a barstool who needs to be hit?

experience is a great teacher
i like to work with great teachers
lets learn about ourselves someday soon.....

Wednesday, January 20, 2010

I propose a national holiday for drunks and poets on march ninth 2010, theanniversary of the death of charles bukowski in 1994.

actually it is part one of two parties, the second will be on his nintieth birthday in august.....
ive never created a national holiday before, but i am not making excuses..

THIS WILL BE THE BEST BUKOWSKI DAY EVER

i want flyers in shop windows,
"closed for bukowski day"

"at bar paying tribute"

"emulating by imitating"

on bukowski day
phone in sick
or, better yet, dont call your dead end job

maybe we can have bare knuckle fights in the allet to cap off the evening?
out of reverence
for saint bukowski
(tee shirts now available)

bukowski day is about mental freedom
reading and rereading him gave me a certain kind of mental programming
i learned job freedom from the master
there are better ways to make a buck than helping a capitalist fellate himself as he or she pursues thier filthy lucre in the grand old game of more
more greed
more
more

less is more
more naps
more sleeping late
more poetry of action,
make your life into a poem
good poems only repeat themself for artistic affect only

continuing to go to the same job, everyday makes your life a boring poem

fly and be free

my philosophy of work is that im not working,
im helping a friend

i work at the local bar on tuesday morning helping my friend tha bar owner who cant fill the shift
hes a good guy
he supports teh neighborhood drifters and hobos with handouts and little jobs and concern because hes a fine fellow
i try to make tuesdays my own at the little bar and have fun
i catch a free load when i wish one
we got cable and gamble on japanese gameshows

would i do it everyday?
NO WAY
that would be a job
i no hablo jobbo

i help quaker school kids with thier tennis
i work for the society of friends
helping friends with thier tennis problem
this almost approaches job status when i go in four times a week,
but its 2-3 hours
thats not a JOB!
2-3 hours is a fucking hobby

every now and then i put on a tuxedo and sling drinks for a caterer
that a job?
sometimes i work two days a week in thier busy season
can you call that a job?

no, thats oppurtunity knocking
easy momney for someone with my charm and wit
but you do that everyday and you become a vampire
out all night
doing coke
because people that drink also do drugs
shocker
and your livelihood changes the way you think
you hang in bars all thetime you become an alky or a hypocrite

40 hours a week behind a bar is good money but its a living hell
smiling at the regulars because you are a people person
helping them shoulder their regrets and sorrows
treating thier loneliness with pint glasses and jokes and fake cameraderie

distressed godesses on self loathing missions, sinking as low as they can
enjoying their personal bottom and slumming with you so they can feel as horrible as possible about themselves

every girls dream is to sleep with the bartender
thats why we give them free drinks when they flirt well
its the circle of death

they drink their glasses of poisons and kill a few million more braincells
and you have to act happy when they return
act happy to see them destroying themselves

"another glass of death now govnah?"

"ere's a proper glass of toxins for u matey"

"shall i bring the hearse around mate?"

"you liver still workin then laddie, lets see if this stops it"

WAKE FOR BUKOWSKI
MARCH 9th, 2010

tuesday....
catch a dayload at the fabulous shamrock
20 bucks gets you a tee shirt and dollar drink specials and buffet with vegan items

vodka and seven up are free
that was his drink of choice in "hollywood" i think

NIGHT LOAD- Finnegans wake....why not? poetry reading...Bukowski off....

"so you think you are charles bukowski?"
reads one flyer

we will kick off a 3 month long bukowski contest to be capped off on his birthday AUGUST SOMETHING at PHILLY PARK

Tickets available soon
you get a betting voucher, a tee shirt and drink specials

Friday, January 15, 2010

i have just about fought off some nastiness that was living in my chest for a few weeks
the last vestiges still cling to my lungs and rattle from time to time
but the nights of suffocating on my own mucus are thankfully over
what a treat that is
the cure is almost as bad
i took some super mucus pills and they worked instantly
as advertised
and thought, neat
then was up all night wondering where the snot went
simple physics really
snot can neither be created or destroyed
where die it go?
i thought it may havebeen rerouted behind my eyes
something was filling up there
and the next morning you blow and blow and blow
definitely a snot rerouting situation
and unnatural
the last symptom is a ringing in my ear
going on three days now
with beeps every now and then
a soft boop
like the kind my poker interface makes when your time is running out
a polite boop
not insistent, just a yo...
dude..im booping here
ah the joy of no health care
ill try to heal myself with positive vibes
if pain starts ill head to the emergency room and sit with my fellow americans who are also without health cards
better bring a big fat book
and a surgical mask
and alcohol wipes

Friday, January 01, 2010

the dudes in dresses are making it impossible to sleep
once a year they put them on and stumble through the city
a sound truck goes down my street, playing a drunken standard
it sounds like theres people on the back, singing along
a string band marches down moyamensing avenue, a block away
playing "oh dem golden slippers"
they are doing strange and wonderful things with their saxophones,
squealing and trilling and making it their own
i cant get the cereal out of my head this time of year
the cereal with the same tune, reworked with their product name into the song
its hard to be sober in this neigborhood this time of year
the flattened beer cans and plastic cups are ankle deep in places all along 2nd street at the end of the night
mostly at the curbs
like snowdrifts
the ground crunches under foot and shifts as you walk or strut
like some weird polluted planet
the only remains the next day are miles multicolored silly string forming jackson pollock like masterpieces on the streets and sidewalks which remain months later
we speak a different language down here
a slurrier, wetter dialect,
peppered with equal parts profanity, sincerity and other raw emotion
tommorrow our heads will remind us that alcohol is a toxin

but tonight,
we mumm

each mumming at a different level and in their own manner
pure bachanalian group expression
a philadelphia love story