Jim died, but his maniac memories live on!

Tinkerer bucker jammer carpenter mechanic hack
father son baler dishwasher dendroflack

jester wise guy loiterer diner vagrant
worn rake licorice-tooter redactor hermit

Circus Song

The first words I said that day
were, "Danny, I don't want to die
a virgin anymore," to which he said,
without so much as turning over,
"Time enough, Lassie, time enough,"
and I had to wonder what I was
still doing there, wearing boys' underpants,
and waiting to be introduced.

This is a composite of tales, of forty days and forty nights
in that pretty-pretty gray-white city. Tales of glowing platters of
transcendental chow yuk, of cadged mild euphorics, of wanton quests
with the unslakable Andrei, full-throttle power dives into the quagmire
of imagination, and the unsurpassed sensation of sedentary free flight.
We wondered what would happen if you held a compass too close to your
third eye. To us, these were still pioneering days, and navigation
was for ninnies. We speculated on how far you could take the given

arly-adolescent period, Ebb
Tide, Stranger in Paradise, Volare
Probably topped my private charts.   This was
Mid-America, remember;  little
Freedom to choose,  definitely no
Alan Freed to guide one.   But to get back to your
Question, burning like a plutonium
Ingot in the pants of an action hero,
Where were the girls?     Dipping Volare

My experiences were far greater then I realized at the time.

Eruptions of starlight, joy and gladness
As, at 10:30 p.m. on Shattuck, the New
World dawns with shouts of "Yes we can!"           
From young persons thronging the clogged street.   
The street people, however, are just trying
To get some sleep.    I infer this from the body-
Bundles I see huddled in every alcove.    But why,
In the rapture of intoxicated victory
I glimpse around me, do I insist on this
Dissonant note?   "A complete curmudgeon,"
Gentle Dorothy once called me, in
Exasperation, accurately,
I cannot deny.    Aye, O Friend!   I fear there are
What are lately called Depression Issues
At work here.    How tiresome, really.

last call

He is afraid to go to the war zone but he has heard
one restaurant there serves a great bombe.

I was a true mustard seed
He, just a huge mountain of lies

He talked for hours
about gunpowder
so when I handed him a match

What do you say

when you’ve got

two pages left

in the journal

and dread

when you’ve got

the plane crashing?