Sunday, May 8, 2016



Finally, coffee...
dragged the corpus
to the venue...
sore throat
can't smoke,
but I can sit in 
and pretend I don't.

They make us smokers
sit outside...can't stand
the stench or the nudge
of death....we all end up
in the same abattoir.

Crazy presidential race
in good o'l USA....never
seen so many pundits
so unsure of themselves,
wires crossed, in short
circuit of their assumptions.
Thank you, Trump for at
least this.

In Mexico the corruption 
flows smoothly, a river of won't get that much
better or worse, so...Fiesta!

In Gringolandia, pretention 
to greatness
thwarted by greed and evil,
but, stlll, it's "America First!"
in every coliseum
on every flashing screen.

It was right to protest when
I was still a child...
right now still, 
as an old man.
No, nothing seems 
to have changed.

I lived most of my life on
American runaway train...
in Mexico, I can hear the
screech of too late brakes
at a distance.

So sad that anyone everywhere
ever believed in anything.

Nice coffee.

"Belief in anything is simply a way
of labeling the mystery."  Chogyam Trungpa


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