Medellin 6.2.2

Found gooooooood coffee…

even too strong it’s 

excruciatingly delicious…

what else expected from Juan Valdez?

…awake in vajra space 

geometric for aesthetic convenience

the angles just make the impact

more yummy.

“If it was space, it would have bit you”

…oxygen deprivation to the brain

is a great sensation to the mind…

mind over matter…”it doesn’t matter

…never mind”…(hey, I was only a C+

student!)…

…it all depends, 

given an infinite universe, time,

and infinite possibilities,

that everything will happen…

…one slip of the mouse and the computer 

ate my cheesy thought stream…I thought 

it was on track, a good meme, a worthy

rail to go down…and BOOM!…gone like

a brain hemorrhage train hemorrhage…

ah, shit….it’s just like taffy…it just keeps 

coming...I’m glad something still does…

now what I’m writing's trivial compared to 

what I had going…oh…something about…

the South of USA  (Carolina is where I was)

has PTSD from 1860 still…it was good, 

whatever it was…(damned fingers)…

(found some I lost) :

“It’s city living

personal space to defend from

the vastness…

…a bagel appears and I rip

the cigarette from my lips

to enjoy it’s taste…

…it’s like the Twenties in Paris

right here right now because

it’s my reality…

…but then, I digress,

I must confess,

back to the cappuccino…”

…the train, the groove, the world, et. al.,

is on the move, ya just gotta get with it ..

“busy being born or busy dying”…

essential to have options…wiggle room…

not nailed to a cross like Our Friend…

”I must be Jesus because every time I pray 

I find I’m talking to myself”…king of the 

homo-saps…who knew?

too soon?  ….and so I wait…for what…

another cliche…nothing I haven’t seen or 

don’t understand…of course there are 

aliens, out-of-this-world species…normally,

humans perceive only three dimensions,

except for the Karmapa and other 

enlightened ones, and the “dimented”, 

trapped between time space….oh, yes, 

they exist…just recall: The Beatles…too

obscure? too soon?

…too very very?  hey, Kat likes it…all cozy

in bed, cool breeze blown…I like just sitting 

here…fuck Godot…

…Celine though…may have been a Nazi, 

not worse than the thousands brought into

USA…Operation Paperclip…

,,,can’t get away with: “I was just doing my 

job.”…if it was just your job, you could 

have quit….no….it was your duty,..that’s

why you got hung…poor Orwell…poor

Pound…too smart for their own britches…

but, “who knew” Socialism was a 

Rothschild’s baby…not Hemingway, 

Oppenheimer…Bukowski didn’t care…

Trump has them by the pussy…

….more fun than a barrel of monkeys 

doesn’t seem like that much fun. not like…

…waiting with no expectation which is not

really waiting but something else stream of

electrons…the “big note”…(duly noted)…the 

smell of Chicago…my dad’s office…a cork

lined room…(can’t remember if I read it)…

a celestial palace of one’s own without 

Darth Vader…what else to do on a 

Sunday (or is it?) afternoon except read 

the obituaries…pray like Madonna for a 

new face…pray like Nicholson and 

Jagger for one more orgasm…

speaking of orgasm, I saw your mother 

the other day, and she looked great! like, 

twenty years younger! I asked her: 

“What did you do to your hair?”  

“Nothing..” and she blushed…

…how can you get de-railed from a 

stream of consciousness? I guess it 

might have something to do with how 

swift the stream is…it’s going to be a

looooong….joint wonderful barber we 

have…they look like kids though full

grown people with sweet miniature bull-

dogs huffing around….

…fucking great coffee.

“’Til human voices wake us and we drown.”

Poor USA…

poor baby…

stuck in its own mess.

If it’s driving you crazy,

you’d be home by now.

Clark Street, downtown Chicago…

it probably hasn’t changed much

since the last time I was there…

I’m sure there are places in Mumbai

that haven’t changed in a thousand

years.

The surface, the interface of society,

is changing constantly at light speed,

at the speed of A.I..

No wonder humans can’t 

keep up with it…no wonder

they don’t remember 

who they are…

rootless creatures of the aether,

lost in space, 

balloon animals…

…fubar.

Medellin #5

At The Cafe

I donned all my colors

rainbow socks and huaraches

Huichole necklace on Hawaiian shirt

Vivre La Broma!

Waiting for coffee…

chipped coffee cup.

The Japanese couldn’t care less

by the way,

not that that matters now.

The coffee came

with a tiny spoon…

I pretended to sniff cocaine.

And, of course,

Frank Sinatra

began to sing

“New York, New York!”

A mailman passes by, 

meaning mail gets delivered here..

who knew?

The next thing I need

(I know it now)

is a dragon tattoo.

Feelings

How you feel doesn’t matter.

Of course, it’s important that you 

feel something….otherwise, you’re

a psychopath.

Tears and laughter are natural…

…no problem with those…

but, soap operas are notorious

for their longevity.

Temper tantrums are a sign of immaturity.

The patient man gets even, not mad.

The patient woman is not 

blinded by emotion.

In emergency there is no time to feel.

The shock of the moment is too true 

to waste time on speculation…

(it’s a brain thing).

“I’m sorry your mother died…

what’s for lunch?

Too soon?”

Good Morning Medellin!

Samsara is all pervasive

 even in paradise.

Nirvana is all pervasive

even in hell.

Ever changing sky, cloud colors,

storms, clear blue, perfect analogy

for mind.

The last time I started over

led to monumental miracle

changes in my life I never

thought would happen...

Tepoztlan.

Medellin is big, a wilderness

full of people. 

Molecules in a closed space

(small town) tend to bump into

each other more than when

less confined.

You have to have a lot of energy

take up a lot of space

be an excited particle

to be noticed in a city.

Me?

I'm an inert kusulu.

I have no roots here...just a 

temporary platform... 

one best friend who could

go off at any moment...

just like the guru said:

"falling with no parachute,

but, there's no ground."

What could go wrong?

Gnomeledge

Dexter…positioned on the floor…facing

an open window…at right angles to me…

will he come towards me, or go for the  

open window…window…I rise up and 

close it…he moves on, to a post meal 

exploration.

Spaceship earth, Shpongle, window

wind gusto, no verification code..…

spruced up corpse…clouds… clouds…

clouds…finger painting in suchness…

you want words…we all do…what’s the

good word…have you heard the word…

everybody's heard the bird is the word…
in the beginning was the word…but a …

peanut butter and jelly sandwich…

…leads to a continuation…if you think so…

in other words, as it were…I can see this is 

going nowhere which doesn’t mean we 

haven’t been there all along, so, we get

smaller and disappear.

Home Alone

With Dexter, the kat…

the color and flavor of the art

depends the dyes you use

the environment provides

naturally like autumn leaves

costal shore waves

the skip of a rock on a pond.

Space is the essence of art

(he says, knowingly, 

                   with a fey shrug)

It is the canvas,

deep artesian 

source of inspiration,

the room to breathe.

This House Is Full Of Space

Home alone in a four bedroom 
two story sixth floor overlooking 
Medellin showers coming in 
every day from the mountains

out the windows no wonder
they're facing that way....

...all along the watchtower just
thought of that sixth floor with
massive balconies true South

American indoor outdoor living
like industrial thatched hut in the
woods a pig roasting on a stick...

...the way it should be meaning
groove that we sometimes slip
into never know when but when
it gets going good you just know

inner space outer micro macro
in between all depends on how
you look at it or you could say
can't you see may be the problem
just saying and so it goes one
hallucination in front of the other

on down the line linear if you like
otherwise corner into chaos not a
pretty sight go figure not my
problem circumstances beyond my
control wink nod  like your mother
used to make God bless her 

molecules

Uroborous your way back to
Brooklyn Hoboken  Elgin
wherever....just...don't...
blame...me.

He Knew How

He knew how to get around…

he knew how to stare them down…

he knew how to have some fun…

he knew how to jump the gun.

He knew how to snort cocaine…

he knew how to

he knew how to

he knew how to.

He knew how to fly in space…

he could save the human race.

He could explain

how life began,

the history of man,

the shape of the universe 

our place,

and he never forgot a face.

No matter how much 

he knew to do, 

he never quite knew why.

Medellin #5

New, strange, rearranged,

like an Escher etching, when

I walk away from the apartment,

it feels like I’m going back to

where I’m coming from…

my body mind hasn’t yet grokked

the filigree of curving streets

carved there long ago by some

riverbed. horse path, hunting trail,

not straight and geometric like USA,

a nation spanning a continent

in a hundred hears.

No, this place is long inhabited…

you can feel why there are people here

in the atmosphere, the way the women

move that way

that say:

this is the time,

this is the place,

like it or not.

“The life you ordered has arrived”**

** (stolen from Barbara Meier)