Senile Epiphanies

Might as well could be…

you don’t know unless you try…

meanwhile back at the universe

the earth was still a little blue pebble…

spinning ‘round with all the lovely people

spinning around in their lives and their graves…

“turning and turning in the widening gyre

the falcon cannot hear the falconer. “ Yeats

I’m only musing my misgivings at having been

born in the first place…feel me?

so while I’m still here anyway might as well 

could let more words find the light of day 

before a nightmare takes the reins/could happen

after all, the Book of Revelations, Baba Yanga,

Edgar Cayce, Nostradamus, William Cooper,

John Lear, Phil Schneider, Buddha, Jesus can’t 

all be wrong…d’ya think?

It’s not like you can’t see lots of (word) happening

all over the world, suddenly, some new crisis every day.

Luckily, I just look out the window at the clouds and all

concerns melt away, always conscious that the situation 

could change, drastically, at any moment…which makes

this particular day of moments so appreciated…dig?

Who am I talking to, again?

I know people read me from all over the world…

I know none of them…like I’m speaking into

an intelligent void…that might be the closest

a Buddhist would come to describing God, 

just to make the believers feel a little better,

of course.

Good Day Sunshine, Paul was a shallow romantic

compared to John, but this song, driven by Paul’s 

bass, is cosmic in an Everyman way…just say’n.

English Music Hall Buffoonery romanticism…

Paul…only the good die young?

I must not be that good…no Mansion on the sea,

although, my cool digs are a Palace not of my

imagination, it all depends on how you look at it,

how you see it.

From that p.o.v., being a plumber and getting used

to being in filth, hands on, or for that matter, having 

my tender mind subject to the insanity of my family,

all, at this point, are like the old Christmas tree 

ornaments we would unbox each year and remember.

Music one has loved in the past retains the memory

of experiences, times in one’s life on an almost cellular 

level. “There are many levels. Yours is under the stage

coach that leaves at high noon….be under it.”

“If I didn’t have dark humor, I wouldn’t have humor at all.”

Ahem, yes, stages, levels, all the world is full of stages…

I’ve been on some of them…interesting being in front of

people looking at you trying to seem to them something

you want them to see…something not quite you, or even

More than you, like a preacher in Arkansas…

But, I digress.

(Intermission)

The actor in me wears colorful clothes.

The teacher in me is pretty dormant.

The plumber in me is retired.

The writer in me? 

You tell me.

Life goes on, in many ways, as is said…

If you can see beauty, you are so lucky,

perhaps fortunate is a better word….

if you can’t, you’re really missing something…

you’re missing something essential for true life…

…diving in Vermont at night with two teenagers

first time out of New York City, they were terrified

of the trees looming over the road…

don’t be like them.

Yep, back around 1967, me, now, the drugs help…

I’m not ashamed…know why?

…the little kids here aren’t afraid of me…

…showers twice already today quite nice

atmospheric conditions in and out of the abode

“so far so good” said the man falling out of the

ten story building when he reached the fifth floor.

“I read the news today, oh boy.”

…lucky lighter still lights a cigarette, no questions…

Abby Road will be the next selection…wouldn’t you?

In media res…in the middle of things…it always starts

in the middle…ends, but it’s still in the middle…there’s 

no real beginning or ending…Gnostic or Not-Nic, one

can use one’s senses to see through all the mysteries…

just say’n….by the way, he never hit the sidewalk.