My 2018 Supplemental Mind

I was born in a workhouse jamboree, in the mouth of a moose, through the ass of a goose, 
from a residential school with a Mexican mule, on American soil in the dust bowl toil, 
through a Rose Bowl parade into a penny arcade.
Fish eye grappa girl, my pet rat, hates the cat, my pet toad, pops on the road. 
There’s a  risk of death in a fish skin hat,
while passing my time in a supervised rejection site.
Just an eating, shitting, sleeping machine.
All it takes is an allegation to break you down. 
Harleys and hammers, chain saws and chop saws, stereos blasting , no mufflers allowed in the sun. 
Junior was a messenger from hell. "I'm a product of a long line of interbreeding," he so claimed. 
His mistress was a pheasant girl in hiding. She caught him in the autumn of his days. 
The priest spat a sermon at the sleepy congregation. 
"There's trouble in the Bubble," he yelled. 
Not many gave two bits about his riddles. 
I will meet you on the other side of prosperity. 
Politicians on the right, a guardrail on the left, your head squeezed between.  
With a fish queen comes a cavalier Joe, the protector of turf wisdom in the family. 
Stray chainsaw comeback kid. 
It's an ankle sprain for freedom lashing out when ideology outweighs the facts. 
I don't know what she said. I don't know.
Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday. I don't know 
Small change derange. I don't know. 
Gaslight every night. I don't know.
A cry for help, tune you out. I don't know. 
Gaslight every night. I don't know.
Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday. I don't know 
I don't know what she said. I don't know.
My heart goes out to you and all the things you do
Going up and down the stairs like you're going somewhere.
What could it be worth, protector of the turf.
A typewriter dream, words through a machine.
Hold your head up high in the firecracker sky.
Fragmented family, bitten by economy.
Years of inter breeding, selectively believing. 
Come and wipe your hands, the dirt of your homeland.
It's a long and windy road, searching for the mother lode.
No measure of success, just pounding on your chest.
And all the world over, people lined up at the borders.
The blackbird of defense, the landlord seeking rent.
Resume the old attacks, ideas replace facts.
Resume the old attacks, ideas replace facts.

The fleeting beauty of today
arrived safe but could not stay.
Golden leaves burned in the sun,
fireworks on everyone.
The fleeting beauty of today
arrived safe but could not stay,
like a window tango.
When the novelty wears off 
and you wake up in the trough,
under a nuclear threat,
could be your last cigarette,
in the frantic craze,  
like a window tango. 
Made a call to a friend, 
just another old guy 
waiting to die. 
I can't face my face 
it got so out of place,  
like a window tango. 
In the neon halls, 
in the shopping mall, 
heed the wrath of a man, 
with a radical plan.
An evil fixation 
like a window tango. 
I'm a land locked man, 
VI in the sand.
At the end of the rainbow
you'll be eating apple pie,  
somewhere in Sointula, 
like a window tango.
I'm leaving the homestead. 
I'm off to the city.
Oh yeah. 
I'm lost in the city. 
I long for the country.
I'm waiting 'till Friday 
when I'm back on the highway.
Oh yeah.
Where did it go ?
Forty years ago 
you blinked your eye,
they passed you by.
It's a condo craze 
in these gadget days. 
I'm lost in the city. 
I long for the country.
I'm waiting 'till Friday 
when I'm back on the highway.
Oh yeah.
Trans Canada 
through Manitoba.
Imagine that, 
stuck in Medicine Hat. 
The Fraser Valley haze, 
gonna end your days. 
I'm lost in the city. 
I long for the country.
I'm waiting 'till Friday 
when I'm back on the highway.
Oh yeah.
Fredericton flood,  
Red River mud. 
Urban sewer 
at Younge and Bloor.
Hastings skid row,  
off to Nanaimo. 
I'm lost in the city. 
I long for the country.
I'm waiting 'till Friday 
when I'm back on the highway.
Oh yeah.

It's a nice grey rainy day 
Keystone cupid 
makes me look stupid 
It's a nice grey rainy day 
It's a brave blue world on this grey day 
It's a brave blue world on this grey day
Another theory 
a grand conspiracy 
more medication 
relax the nation 
It's a brave blue world on this grey day 
It's a brave blue world on this grey day
Choose your tune 
tall tales loom 
knife in the gutter 
don't got no clutter 
It's a brave blue world on this grey day 
It's a brave blue world on this grey day
Blue blue blue 
marching through 
blue blue blue 
A wooden craving 
the late great Marvin 
A plastic island 
the size of Thailand 
It's a brave blue world on this grey day 
It's a brave blue world on this grey day
Life insurance 
it's your assurance 
grab the cash 
dine and dash 
It's a brave blue world on this grey day 
It's a brave blue world on this grey day

The harvest moon hangs 
The harvest moon hangs 
Night time, said I'm lingering over you 
red eye, sleep lies off in the tundra 
The sirens on the shore 
don't call out anymore 
the wheat king in the mist 
will lead the flock amiss 
The harvest moon hangs 
The harvest moon hangs 
The stars align your fate 
with heather on the grate 
you turn another page 
the restless wind of age 
Grey shale, black veil, under the moonlight 
crickets call, leaves fall, autumn regalia 
The harvest moon hangs 
The harvest moon hangs 
Cider house folklore 
with common threads of yore 
there's charcoal on your face 
as you stoke the fireplace
The harvest moon hangs 
The harvest moon hangs 
I got something to report, sir
no place to run, no place to go, no place to hide 
The ship left the port, sir
you gotta get tough, call their bluff, it's not weird enough 
Mission abort, sir 
got no return, nothing was learned, we all got burned
All is well, until the plane goes down. 
If you don't have regrets, you haven't lived up to your potential. 
When there's a seahorse swimming by your window pane, 
and the setting sun sets all day long, 
when the lover in your attic serenades for you, 
and they're exchanging cannon fire in the kitchen.
I've got my ticker tape and it don't sound great, I've been restored like an old dance floor, 
walking round the track always looking back, in a time machine getting caught between 
the left and right, the day and night, 
in an hourglass I'm slipping past. 
It's the Halloween bunny purple wagon train episode.
Writer's block ain't no shock when you're getting old and grey
Well I can't stay in touch cause I don't miss you that much
Out of order, all those grumpy hoarders
Cruel fumes are drifting past my window
Cruel fumes are drifting past 
Death looms, I'm fading fast
Ava Santa Maria, some day I'll come back to see ya.
They say, loyalty doesn't matter when you end your career.
You climbed up the corporate ladder, lay back and have a beer. 
Enjoy those golden years ... golden years.
Talk the talk, but don't walk the walk 
Can't understand ya, all that propaganda 
It was insane before, but I don't want anymore 
Build a wall a million feet tall 
Ava Santa Maria, some day I'll come back to see ya.
They say, loyalty doesn't matter when you end your career.
You climbed up the corporate ladder, lay back and have a beer. 
Enjoy those golden years ... golden years.
Writer's block, it ain't no shock when you're getting old and grey 
I'm on the edge of a cliff, the cruel fumes drift.

2017 Specs Of Dust

Dragged those files all over the place … blew her dress up around her face ... telegram headlines haunting you ... no brakes rolling down the hill ... digestive trail on the road ... brandy flare and golden hair hanging in the loft ... chewy steak and layer cake stir memories of a Rama summer ... soap on the water blown along the shore ... steeple top crucifix adorns the countryside ... white rose store, warped plank floor, shelves old and empty ... sing-a-long with car radio song ... dirt road dust in your eyes ... bush on fire, swollen tire ... never to be seen in a casino again ... don't grieve for lost emotion ... don't leap through the rear view mirror … cowbirds greet you in the parking lot ... zero in on the shopping carts ... walk a swollen mile around the mall ... footwear stigma ... old kale chipped shoulder ... tremolo sun just begun ... blow up behind the bench ... swinging a rusty wrench at a sink of dirty dishes ... power play in the hall by the foreman's office ...  a baby oil request from the steam bedroom nest that the camp cook had blessed ... sipping February nights down at the laundry ... pizza eyes popping through the bars in jail wondering about the score ... no one can ignore the news ... the robber got away but had to snooze ... in his van at the intersection of Bowen and Cruz ... they found him passed out with the loot, stinking of booze ... with a Valentine card signed in blood ... and a note that read, "I'll get out of dept or die buying " ... impulsive prick at the end of a shift waiting for the new girl in the house ... so sayeth the drunkard from the ditch, "this bottle is empty and life is a bitch" ...   we laugh at your prayers, we piss in your home ... we eat soda crackers while polishing chrome ... dance like never planned ... romance of the seven glands ... peaked out at twenty ... could handle it sunny ... begging at thirty, whickered and dirty ... the sixties hit like a bad acid trip ... the congregation chatters about sexual matters ... paper cup, blades of steel, Pacific rim frontier ... blow-out game, freezing rain, ringing in your ear ... septic smell, news from hell, the politics of power ... oh ain't that neat ... the president tweets ... while you try to swing, he tips his wing, then flies over the golf course ... the scourge of parenthood, they keep coming back ... conference with the king, a real estate dream ... turn churches into homes with a five year fixed term loan ...  it's a cold trail behind the pulp mill ... you'll make a lot of money, but you'll spend it first ... on a cruise around the world ... getting fat, seeing all the sights ... poor boy in the corner, staring into the jungle ... here comes the jewelry brigade with colorful hats ... if you don't like history, shred the facts and re-write it ... re-ignite it and send it to the post ... this early morning watching Nat King Cole, listening to Captain Beefheart ... I can't sleep, I can't eat, I can't tweet ... they waive the fee, admission free ... no common ground from you to me ...  repeat turkey news, moonshine fungus booze, fired staff on cue, network snoring pews, born paying annual dues, on board a viral cruise, with shit stains on your shoes, a loud chorus of boos, mufflers they don’t use, with rings around the fuse, a thing they won’t reuse, the house you’re going to lose, green tarp window blues … all the programs on campus will close early tonight due to sincere weather conditions … fair motion ride ... you're so right, in your shoes tonight … you converse like you're dying from thirst … with arm you will slay the mighty beast … we hit the iceberg, but I never heard a word  … I was asleep dreaming about hot sex … trapped in a fire, flying off the balcony … abused at school by the golden rule … sniffing glue to keep my mind away from you … it's not your fault the way you are … it was trauma tarp you sailed passed … fair motion ride.

Bill fears no beer !

Cave of the umpire … streak in the sky … shady eye spectator … garbage sale gloom … smoke in the basement … flames of deceit … bound by the limits … weak link on the team … only as good as your worst neighbor  … when the novelty wears off and you wake up in a trough, under a nuclear threat, could be your last cigarette, in the frantic craze of the media haze … At 5:30 pm I made a call to a friend, just another old guy who was waiting to die … I can’t face my face, it got so out of place in the neon halls of the shopping mall … heed the wrath of man with a radical plan, an evil relation to a power fixation … I’m a land locked man, vi in the sand, at the end of the rainbow you’ll be eating apple pie … somewhere in Sointula you’ll be grazing in the rye … little sister, wedding resister, witness to a back alley crime … keystone cupid, make me look stupid at the altar of the Lord, don’t get bored, it’s just a minor chord over and over again … I’m enthralled with the thralls in gowns that flow across the floor … Surrey came to Pender on a cold Friday night … oh the wonderful quiet of Xmas ... the Xmas morning ambulance siren ... the Xmas snow plough ... the Xmas restless neighbor .

2016 Different Paths To Follow (and get the shopping done) …

Western Union Telegram ... got the message ... here I am ... says she wants to visit the old disco haunt, after all ... they got on board, except for me ... heading out on stormy seas ... missed the boat, just like before... Western Union Cablegram ... she wrote what I don't understand ... signed by a lawyer, notarized ... guess I'll run for cover ... skip town like a cheating lover ... don't think I'll pass this way again, unless in a pine box …

The jolted peddler could smell Salome's breathe ... satanic manager got sacked in the zone ... compelled in sorrow to give up the throne ... peddle your wares, whomever will buy ... Canadian snow birds  fly south where it's warm and dry ... retired professionals of Lillooet beckon ... release the streets from the evil hounds  ... the narrow view of the big collapse ... lock the doors and shut off the taps ... happiness and pain, at Davenport and Main …  

The union kin made demands like before ... light a match, lift the latch, watch it go up in flames ... they had a call of duty, routine dragged them down ... young busy bodies stuck out in the cold ... weakened by the rust of years until they're old and brittle  ... down at the water's edge the auto wreck revealed ... among all the dents a body was concealed ... wrapped in a raincoat with a message from someone ...
“drive very careful and get the shopping done” …

 
The muscle lack of motivation ... shocked awake in morning  calm ... go your way alley cat ... meet you in a few hours near the school zone by the bright neon lights ... she cut off a drywall truck after she dropped off the kids ... compression vying her mind ... restless line up at the gadget store ... multi-cultural group clutching paper cups  ... they don't internalize their urban pain ... pepper sprayed in the rain ... volunteered to knock on doors ... invite me in for wine and more  ... invent new slogans, move more product ... join the fans in momentary mental relief ... let it all hang out the sunroof ... we'll be chemically deranged in  moonlight … 

Committed to the hidden truth ... splashed with chronic eyes down streets of Gas town ...  
young and indestructible, bright outlook on life ... flooded with ideas ... a career steer to success ... encounters filed with a color coded flag ... no hard landing if you're understanding cosmic signs ... land baron's dilemma ... wide eyed to mend the fence ... capture a deal, something to steal from the down and out ... innocent pay while psychotic money spreads around ... open the gates, build mansions with cheap labor … 

The weasel in your wood pile ... the snake under your skin ... make friends with regret ... everyone needs something to forget ... no map for you to follow … owner's manual not included ...

Watching the movie, "200 Motels" puts me back on the straight & narrow …

Rance, Lance, Vance, dance, pants ... 

Casino Joe ... Scarborough Bluffers ... I've got tears from cutting onions in the camp kitchen …
pillars of the village square … taunt me with idle flare … highly motivated elementary … laughing pilgrims drowning at sea … they talked of how their science failed … hillside cross no love was nailed … Hoo doo, yoo doo, gardens shine in tropical plumage …

You don't want air bags to kill you … you don't want the fire alarm panel to catch fire ... you don’t want mothers and fathers to kill their children … you don’t want your house in a sinkhole … 

If I could make you happy, I'd make a wish … if I could feed the hungry, I'd prepare the dish  … some of us seem satisfied … most are taken for a ride … don't believe all you read … just count to ten and it will go away  … if I could be more helpful, you know I'd try … if I could be more persuasive, I would not lie … I've seen the way they get things done … they disagree then  pull a gun … we take more than we need to survive … we find common contaminated ground … adapt to change that flies around … if I was your soul companion, I'd be content … we could live our lives, in a surplus tent … get removed from the status quo … walk the beat, play it slow … if I was a sandman patron, I let you sleep … 

There's a no-fly zone in your happy home … there's an old shoe can on the stairs … there's a dust bin drain flowing down the lane … there's a seaport store with a warped wood floor … there's a quiet place where few tourists loom … there's a pigeon fight on the news today … the candidates promise you the moon … there's a lonely train in the prairie rain … there's a small town fading out of sight … there's a Union Jack on a Cadillac … gliding on gravel in the night … when the output rage gets weak with age … when there's no sole left on the shoe … roll call came, they called your name … flashbacks were all consuming …

Dry heave boys were at it again ... turn the corner and what do you find ... a man starving himself all week then gorging on  "All You Can Eat" ... management request he leave … you can't sit on the fence … in a world so intense … information so condensed … I promise you the moon … I promise you the moon ... 

Here rain, hear your name, your environment … here rain, hear your name, your biology … no tales of woe … news day is slow … Fraser Valley passing by … don't you know it feels like the highway … Port Mann bridge says hello … don't you know it feels like the highway … fading city awfully pretty … don't you know it feels like the highway … 

All the old folks say, it was better yesterday, when autos could be fixed without a bag of magic tricks … they gather without warning, fill tables in the morning, diamond in the rough, calling poker bluff …  planet that we made was better in a cave, fabricate and pave … anything extreme is weakening the team …
jade with advancing age, optimism turns the page ... youngsters in another world … irony of dying in a plane crash on the way to a funeral … irony of drowning while trying to catch fish … there's panic on the bus, cause no one looks like us …

Down and out in seven, can’t keep the pace … wander through Locklevan, in the ruins of Boniface … eyes burnt by soot, sunset on the Deer foot … recover from the sting of  a lover … finally ran out of gas in a snow covered pass … the complacent stage, the lingering age … the gargoyle girl … pearl of pedestrian poise  … nothing of consequence to say … no brick of wisdom to convey … they were beverage hounds of blasphemy … a toast to our musky peers … domestic foreign catastrophe … can’t believe you’re anywhere … turn back the clock change your hair … relive happy times … etched through crooked lines … can’t believe you anymore … lobby dreams on congress floor … pick a fight on a chrome dog night … sacrifice us to your economy king … 

The subway of your mind, no time to dance or dine ... this dying is going to kill me, the food will feed your cancer, exhaust fumes fill your lungs, it's a noisy world for baby, ringing eardrum crazy, they mount you like a whore with information, it's a corporate education for the benefit of fat cats … 

Undisciplined past ... we'll bring the ballpark to you ... asbestos free zone ... like no other home ...
Full of barbiturates on a Sunday afternoon, left the El Macombo, walking doom, downtown danger, creepy eyed strangers, no hospitality down the cabbage town alley, old dirty brick buildings, old sewer steam streets, upper rooming house window, no sun shine, temperature soar, brown blood floor, speed into panic mode forsaken load ... step down ... step down … there was a call from the forest a long time ago, you cut and paved where no human should go, with love lost pain the soldier-on game, kill the power to the tower, let the dogs go to sleep, put your guns away, so we can walk down the street, there are daffodils just over the hill of garbage at your feet, the steel and glass, the rain of concrete ... step down ... step down  …

Sweet Ammeena, Honey Parker, living over a septic tank, moonshine love … 
Democracy breeds hypocrisy ... Black Friday camping out on the car dealership parking lot … 
Try not to wake me if the plane is going down … 

May your engine never run out of fuel ... may your tomahawk fly straight and true ... may the wind fill your sails ... may people learn to park at the library ... 

Like a wax house hand-me-down, they uglify this town ... a rendezvous at Turtle Creek … a program to be followed … a kick back from the frozen man … an ill fated journey home … her big brown eyes disarm you … by the warehouse garbage bin … Wolfgang lecture of deceit … suburban home of fantasy … they did the neighbors proud … they campaigned for the poor … they bore the media wrath … they shoveled shit in the rain … go empty out the whiskey train … get harbor from the changing winds … let the credits roll to the end … shiver the night away outside the window … the guests have come and gone … nothing remains of what was … from a different point of view … walk on silver water … 

2015 Different Paths To Follow

Oh, the lingering effects of the past year ... let me sleep till the cows come home ... create to combat the effects of age ... collateral white wine frame of mind ... the trailer is at peace with the land ... it’s the Ding Dong Ding Dong Harrison song ... watching 007 films ... tight chest relaxation ... 
there's harmonica heaven in the mist, something your passion can't resist ... she dances at the window above the bridge, I stand staring at an empty fridge ... the skies were disturbed today ... Joe Cocker sings on ... she's so pornographic ... keyboard Kelly and the dead bones ... old man winter is pondering Canada again ... all seniors should wear orange reflective safety attire ... no motivation again ... just buckwheat and drones hovering over my head ... another pajama Sherlock Holmes mystery ... the mild dark foggy morning creeps in like a plague ... sleeping with the enemy is part of our economic development plan ... TV dinners are still in vogue around here ... the earthquake knocked me off the hockey game watching couch ... so I smoked a joint, drank a bottle of brandy, got back on the couch and hung on for dear life ... the little comforts sway in and out of life ... undone shoelaces tormenting every step ... Zachary the Zombie enjoys his life without a menu ... hypnotically disturbed with the technicality of this planet ... delightful cigarettes and cartoons at the profitable premise of Pontiac Paddy, with a few open cans of beer on the back seat, rolling down the highway in a frenzy with a $400.00 Cuban cigar and a old Campbellton whore at his side ... the players picnic cost the committee dearly ... on the auction block, all is game ... slowly but surely complacency sets in ... it is the darling pastime of the elderly ... no one knew Venice like Antonio Canaletto ... few knew Spain as did Francisco Goya ... France was fortunate to have Jean Courbet apply his art ... another lazy Sunday slips by ... sales guys all dressed up and cleanly shaved, having a circle jerk around new products to sell ... there is a splendid velvet painting in the hallway on the way to the washroom in the Lillooet Chinese restaurant ... the St. Dennis Club, where many a quiet moment was spent in the comfort of tobacco and world news ... and the persistent dog owners insist on having their dogs crap all over our sacred parks and playgrounds ... fish fillet and rice at a wedding on ice ... the bride ran away the next day on a motorcycle to L.A. while the shunned groom played crib with her father at the local Legion ... roller coaster ride in the Target investor research department, as money bleeds out of the Canadian outlets ... a thousand years of work we require, before you are fully qualified ... please go away, that's what I say ... then it's down and out on Main Street ... Laurel & Hardy still make me laugh like hell ... paperhangers doing the rounds of the neighborhood apartments ... coconut yogurt and DVDs, that's what is good for me ... the laundry keeps piling up and nothing gets done ... screaming kids are running a muck everywhere you go ... you have to have a nationality, but sometimes I don't ... Charlie Chaplin in drag looks a lot like Alice Cooper ... capitalism ... it's all about the sale ... unions ... are all about control and money ... could live in the '60's until I die ... hand prints on the horse of course ... she's a debonair doctor with a worthy cause ... horseshoes and sling shots are the deal of the day  … "as a man maketh his bed, so shall he sleep." ... Buster Keaton in drag looks like Maggie Smith ... sounds like they are exchanging cannon fire ... “All hands on deck” the crazy skipper yelled, as we rammed the boat into a dead whale ... glue on my shoe ... Bela to Jimi does not bode well with the Chinese chef who is trying to market his son's soup recipe ... the vampires in the capitalist world, where only the sale matters, and above all, the commission for the sale ... I am in no condition to enter the chamber of the bride ... two fingers of brandy did the trick ... steamroll over the dining room table for a can of sardines ... I'm a lobster lover, baby ... I could drink in quiet despair with you ... a wine and cheese jamboree down by the levee, watching the steamboats float by ... beware the mask of the modern salesman ... it is a face of deceit ... no barber can cut a bald man's hair like Vinny ...  the room was crowded with hecklers as the dual sang on ... Hanky Hank was a bitter man, bitten in the ways of women ... Tom Collins and a blond for apartment tea ... Mexican blanket boy succumbs to an overtime hockey game ... the coo coo clock strikes twelve and all is well ... I was an old Canadian, stuck in an old hotel, waiting out a nasty blizzard ... I got the shit, shave and shower blues ... fell off the saddle again ... trailer park dweller boy in an Elvis felt suit ... the essence of convalescence ... have the good taste of telling no one that we smoke ... just dark sonics from the evil of humanity and their proud passionate misguided beliefs ... we flame the fangs of the media mongrel machine … oh, the shenanigans of the technology world ... it's liquidation time, it's liquidation time ... the burning cross of cancer and it's reign of terror ... I mourn for the tormented souls on the other side of the world, on the wrong side of the world, on the other side of the tracks ... I descended from a monkey and I would like to return to the tree ... technology is such a cold word ... sing low Abraham, for I tread where no man goes willingly ... keep my hair in place at the end, the quick and painless end before sunrise ... I love the fangs in the snow, the scent down below, the odyssey on Canadian soil ... laughing in the graveyard, but the last laugh is on you ... the ready in two minutes wholesome food, no longer applies to you, as your attention gets strained by the routine of the days ... Olympic she-devils from Squamish are invading the campgrounds of the coastline ... like a chicken charging out of the toaster oven, the target has no concern ... pinball playboy in the playpen, pigging out on pork ... Joan and Ester in the cypress tree, throwing candy at the nuns ... memories of powerful passion, like pink poison, linger in the deathbed of your mind ... so unkind of lost youth to wink at you that way ... but better than no mention at all ... yesteryear we sang for beer and closed the tavern down, then partied on till dawn hit the lawn ... retire with a scorpion sting and the guilty pleasure of not producing for the colony ...  brandy and broth from the hill ... simmering road kill ... a horn of plenty corridor with walls of glass and nothing more, save for a guard lying down on the job ... coconut oil for a cancerous boil and herring in the back of the car for the hungry children of the failed regime ... 2nd period drama in tune with the Deli Lama running naked in the rain ... no one has the answer to stop the radical misdeeds of the dancer and keep us free to feel as though we are free ...  to misrepresent those in power, who hang their heads in a shower and cross the floor to the beat of a different drum ... the government loves to toot it's own horn ... moonshine cement mixing cowboy,  walking around with shit on your shoes ... white wine and Robin Hood, downtown Wally calls, the Flamingo, Dell and Turf ... a thousand pints worth ... her pregnancy overcame me ... all I could do is run ... a mud puppy brigade ... let the world come to you, as you lounge on the couch and let the sunny day slip by ... smacked with a hatchet, another broken gadget, a leak in the pipe, sleep on a water bed tonight ... magazine maggot, shopping cart faggot, gas bar boozer, junkyard cruiser ... sandbag blue hair, obsolete hardware, pancake earwig, rooftop trailer ... saying please and thank you in the same sentence, while asking for something, is the moronic trend of a fast paced society ... sometimes you have to be 5,000 kilometers away to get along with people ... soon the executioner will become the executed ...help me get a tan, for I'm feeling blue ... the blond angel of Algonquin drifted over the cove and conveyed a calming influence on the anxious young man in the tree ... it's good to be smiling again, after all the tales of woe have been pounded into us ... Betty Moore was a south Nanaimo whore finding clients on the 7-11 and McDonald parking lots ... she ripped off a rainbow suited guy's wallet and left his identification in a ditch behind an apartment building ... she cared less than nothing about his identification ... all she cared about was her next fix ... the towel hung on the handle of the fridge, with the blood stains of a western bird ... the whore finished her coffee and washed the dishes, then picked up her child from school ... mother by day, hooker by night, tea in the afternoon ... Teledyne led the way into the valley of eternal suffering ... I fought the mighty rapids of the rigid river to retrieve the lost jugs ... and behold, there whispered a voice inside ... I am a 7-11 coffee man ... no Walmart for me ... what goes through the collective minds of the poverty stricken youth of the world, as they browse the Internet ... undoing  social media is no option for the candidate ... it's getting harder to become a hermit these days ... it's okay to be a radical thinker, but not too radical ... land fill, every day I do more for the land fill ... even my rosary went into the land fill ... up in my single downtown room off Younge Street ... up the narrow stairs to the freshly dry walled roomed splashed with white wash water paint to hide the old ghosts ... it was a slumlord palace rich with rent from every little room ... all was well, if there were no plumbing, or electrical, or fire hazard issues ... there's a tornado in the trailer park and it don't come from the sky ... it's the queen bee with her insecticide boy ... the hot dog brigade are marching through town with pride ... the hungry tattooed mother, with her three misbehaved kids, woofed down breakfast and left a mess behind ... she knew how to the share the joy of her family with others ... suffering through a toothache, an ear-ache, a back-ache, a head-ache ... oh my ... laughing through a beer-break, coffee-break, lunch break, cheese-break ... armed with a tennis ball, through the hospital halls,  when a nurse yells about a fire drill ... scanning the meat of your mind ... life is unkind when it wants to be ... on a north shore morning, with you beside me in bed, still drunk from the night before, recover a run-away mother, phone ringing, baby screaming ... back porch banjo boy, watching the weeds grow ... flower pots on bungee chords ... garbage cans and frying pans lying around ...  you people in Wendy's shack , can't use plural words ... foggy love and the flicker of an old flame ... a Cajun drive to the other side, where darts are thrown from the rear view mirror, and mechanics complain about the lunchroom soup, but the sea lions bark outside the window and the debt just keeps climbing higher ... an office at five in the morning is a peaceful place to go, no phone ringing,  no employees singing ... with a cartoon face at a frantic pace,  chasing the dollar down the hill ... with a scrap yard grip on a forgotten tip ... a would-be sailor comes home ... long in the face, sunken chest, rat infested smile ... the damage done, the setting sun … the nurse call banshee of Fairmile Road ... the full figured brunette wailing banshee of Aldergrove ... the South African banshee of Burnaby ... the mother of all Surrey banshees ... the stout swigging banshee of Atherly Arms ... the come-hither banshee of the trailer park ... anti-happiness pills that bring out the banshee in you ... a fast forward enterprise banshee with nasty phone etiquette ... a birthday party banshee with bad breath and a rat's nest wig ... the crazy cat cursing banshee on a midnight creep along the breakwater at the edge of town ... a hint of orange marching through the town like a collective bargaining agreement ... they can't sell you enough life insurance ... old fashion Buffy was the professional ring leader of the town bootleg band ... you've got a friend in northern Manitoba ... you've got a friend in southern Tennessee ... duffel bag surprise in the closet of mystery ... walked up Jack's Hill before settling into a hockey game ... the dysfunctional message of the beheaded ... the zombie power of politics and the hidden corruption of high finance ... the cloak of deceit from realty and development companies ... make sure all the pilots are taking happy pills from now on ... politically, you're so politically ... politically, you're so politically correct ... so righteously politically correct ... religiously, you're so religiously ... religiously, you're so religiously correct ... so righteously religiously correct ... morality, with your righteous morality ... morality, you've got your righteous morality ... to spread around ... economically, you've got control, economically ... economically, you've got control, economically, and we're all just pawns in the game ... it's your championship trophy to claim ... but we'll all be equal ... we'll all be equal, in the end ... when politics are washed away ... in the end ... when religion washes away ... in the end ... when all your money floats away ... in the end ... we all will meet there someday ... a breakaway from Elliot Cove with a pickup truck full of pears ... listening to Pink Floyd and planning on doing time in the Alura Mountains, when the divorce finally comes through ... ten cats in a row on the backyard fence ... living on beans and rice and chocolate Easter bunnies ... counting numbers at the end of the day ... so many numbers get in the way ... leaving Arthur, Ontario ... we're off to war ... war is our calling ... Esden is gone the way of the doe doe bird ... I look in the mirror and see stranger danger ... I've got the zombie eyes of an old alter boy, the face of a mixed up old man ... the vodka stained your name in the snow ... we were following a line of blow ... my golf ball rolled slowly off the green, then picked up momentum and splashed into a stream ... for better or worse, fatherhood changes a man ... for better or worse, motherhood changes a woman ... hanging out with a Lonsdale lynx ... explaining boundaries ... Stompin’ Tom knows the patriot in me ... match ups made from hell linger on the news ... look out Rochdale, your security guards stand weak and there are entry points of concern ... your cockroaches grow in numbers as the slack ass squatters slumber ... the duties of the young pilot does not include the preparation of coffee ... the banner over the control console reads, "though I fly over the valley of darkness, I will fear no evil" ... peep hole in the door shows the way to the card game for the insane ... she hunts for security, not the freedom a young heart once desired ... do the zombie walk through the arcade in the evening shade of your soul ... tagged out on the couch all month and no one called to find out if you died ... welter weight and cheese cake, peppered peroxide on the mold growing on the jukebox ... a bow tie man with a letter in his hand, suffers indigestion with a foreclosure in question and benefits denied ... sunscreen of doom at the shutters on the ceiling ... and the roar of the highway cuts through the peace of the woods ... never has a man known quiet like the quiet of the deceased ... all nations seem to co-operate in the Antarctic ... from the womb to the tomb I was linked with a bungee chord ... the flip of a bouncing puck ... the chill of white wine and the mood of the moment ... and the darkness from within and the raven on the roof of the trailer … Jack's Hill seems like an endless climb to get to the top and once you're there you don't even know it ... they were  retired professionals  gathering at the long table, with brandy being consumed and bullshit flying ... she was a beauty queen but cancer got her ... she was an exotic dancer but age got her ... none can skip back the pages of the calendar months on the fur shop wall ... the flies on the bathroom window were getting the scent of a dead rat ... they lifted the veil and the bride had no face ... without sales, you're sunk they say ... all the sales staff are booked at the tanning studio ... she's looking for a man not a ham ... a spotlight dinner and romance on the dance floor ... some night time love and a song from above ... a park ranger smile with a landscape style ... wandering lumberjack king ... no pay cheque can last long at the places he's been ... the Queen waves to the crowd and lets out a fart that was pretty darn loud ... the Flames came back from the Valley Of Doom and won the day … floating on the lake of happiness ... I'm a feeble minded guy ... and you manipulate the people ... you own the media companies that aim to manipulate the people for your interests ... impoverish the workforce ... I'm The Sheik of Holly Manure ... corporate fat cats running the globe like a monopoly play pen jamboree ... all fun and games till someone loses power ... "wonders, marvels and miracles" said I ... he wants more work, but he doesn't want to apply ... the gorilla won't go away … looks like the beginning of the end for Rabbitville on top of  old Jack's Hill ... flopping around with screaming children in the library ... we are the Royal Order of Mother's Against Broom ... I'm a simple man with a spider on my shoulder ... library Jack watching all the ladies ... broom top boy in the medical centre ... authentication trouble on the welfare line ... I wish I could share your grilled cheese sandwich ... share your black leather jacket and your soft shoe dance ... bite into the lettuce with my high blood pressure ... pull for the Habs, but they get me depressed ... ringworm skin and constant constipation ... eyes on the wedge of a movie set ... propane stove and a cocaine uncle ... destroyed so quick that you lost your breath ... split up the files with industrial precision ... screen my face with square white light ... dream of a place in the monitor room ... the zoot suit gang marching in the rain ... the mixed butt girls in the early morning gym ... hung out on the clothesline was part of the routine ... to keep me quiet and from talking obscene ... where's the file ? no one ever seems to be able to find the file ... so queasy around the early morning mall where the seniors linger with a purpose ... someone's living room will explode ... someone's sculpture will unload from a truck in Paris to the quay in North Vancouver ... vodka on the brain of everlasting endearment ... the magic of the herd gathering together ... the intake air, opposition stare ... memories of the dreams shot down with age ... Christmas card friends, like wrist shots from the point ... the windy ways of women who work the assembly line ... sucked into buying a house ... a fix-me-upper ... an old grow-op abode ... brainwashed with the buy-a-house mentality ... mortgaged out the ass with a wife & two kids ... and making peanuts ... sorry this is not sustainable ... flee from the paper gathered at your door ... run from the debt collectors ... lock up your belongings before they’re taken away ... repossessed ... he would like to validate your parking pass ... just go round the corner, then up the stairs, follow the hallway on the right until you reach the corridor, then go through the administration door and grab a number from the reception area, then take a seat in the waiting room until your name is announced over the P.A. system, then simply follow the instructions you are given ... it's okay for the tourists watching the locals work like slaves ... it's better to be rich and retired than scraping by on minimum wage ...  resort to your resort, if you really want to get away ... I don't believe in ghosts, but I do believe they play ... it's bad when the blues come home ... everyone gets lazy when the love of God appears ... everyone gets crazy and they have to plug their ears ... they head out to Regina cause they know the place is flat ... they coach minor hockey then go home and feed the cat ... everyone is numb with the ads of the election ... even the candidates admit, there’s not  much selection ... they're cutting down the trees to build another shopping mall ... nothing to believe but politicians talking tall ...  Canadian complacency is spreading like a bug ... form a new committee get it swept under the rug ... they board the plane for Vegas and leave the kids behind ... they're killing all the tourists, but no one seems to mind ... a happy home is broken with no apparent fix ... the boys run a lab and the girl's are turning tricks ... ballyhoo ... tally-ho ... municipal politicians always wave and smile ... provincial politicians walk about in style ... federal politicians are always in the news ... it must be rather awkward doting their P's & Q's ... I've got a walking stick and a fisherman's gaze ... I've wandered every back alley of this one horse town ... I've got Bridgestone rubber on the soles of my boots ... my sea-legs wobble on worn down knees ... just a salty old dog locked on the land ... there’s no where to go for a lost deck hand ... I can cook a good stew that will stick to you ... a mackerel sandwich on a drum of oil ... how can an employee be so loyal ... I feel ready for some champagne ... throw caution to the wind ... I'm ready to open my eyes ... and live it all over again ... ready for world peace ... ready to call a truce ... small town politics can make your head spin,  just like the big city political fiascos ... in the Sofia zone where nothing grows ... and white wine flows like brown slim ... I gazed into their bedroom parlor and saw the ruminants of misery ... I doubt that it matters, the things I say, sing or write ... it's all for nothing in a flash ... what becomes of the petty treasures we cling to so dear ... a daily prison life of family, work and fantasy ... the law abiding boring life of spending time wallowing in debt ... coughing up blood and alcohol and hearing the motorcycle brigade of gender confusion ...  wait in line at your own peril, as the oxygen depletes ... its an elusive ride we’re on with capital at our side ... most days you're just a pawn of insignificance at the bottom of the pyramid ...  the ruins around your tracks after the train derails ... laying in a field of chemical waste in the shade of hypocrisy ... no time to be free from the judgment of thee ... no divine rights on this landscape ... the dysfunctional game, the network of pain ... he died for the film he made ... he died for the song he sang ... he died at the table in a billiard hall ... old corroded boat batteries in the water along the shore ... remember the tragic life of Snorky ... he couldn't talk very well, yet he spoke often and tormented many ears in his presence ... they're all big-boned girls, working in the meat processing department of the slaughterhouse ... no schedule of concern while you're dead in the ditch ... no wedding cake of joy ... just fallout for the boy ... in the heart of downtown Vancouver, on high alert for a cougar ... say something ... don't say too much ... they're match-makers from heaven ... just pay a buck, then go inside ... it's cloak and dagger ... figure out the rest ... they promise anything and deliver nothing … earring whistle .. backwards pillow thistle ... heat wave June, pavement pushover afternoon ... up at dawn, water the lawn while drought looms in the south ... everywhere you go, you will find Caledonia ... every A&W has the regular morning senior citizens crowd ... the squatters are having a negative effect on Duffy's feline lifestyle ... it's just another cold pizza morning sitting in a bus stop shelter surrounded by crows ... she was my diamond in the rough until she fell in the fountain and floated downstream ... the mother of a glass of wine and cigarette and long dark couch and coffee table ... some fine furniture in this mobile home … I'm a dollar store junkie ... that's where I get all my supplies ... food & medicine & tools & cleaning supplies ... they sang songs about common things like bread and butter ... hunting for seals in the weeds of their umbrellas ... sneezing & wheezing in the pollen rain … no where to hide in a gadget world ... the children don't play outside anymore ... there goes Dinner-Soup, at it again ... running around in search of hubcaps and other tire accessories ... the best thing about Father's Day for me is not being a father  … weighed down with a feud ... no change in the mood ... the drought is on, so people water their lawns ... I arrived in the nick of time ... moved all their hoses under their roses ... aimed the sprinklers at the open windows ... the higher the value of the house ... the more sprinklers shooting water over the lush green useless grass ... there was a homeless man sleeping on a bench in front of the hunting & fishing store ... right next to him there was a Stop sign that read, "Stop Harper" ... we’re all tinder dry and afraid of fire ... she barked like a dog and sneezed in my beer ... the lines are still busy, please continue to hold ... no one wants to hang around in a tire shop all day  … we are looking for video footage of the perpetrator ... a tire shop is not a place to raise your children ... Marilyn must have been the most beautiful woman in the world ... she has been dead over fifty years, yet still, posters of her face grace several store windows in the shopping mall ...  it's an amber morning ... very quiet ... no birds singing ... animals sense that something is up with all that smoke in the sky ... smoke filled skies tell no lies  ... no fresh air breathing particles of combustion ... down on your knees for the corporate squeeze ... the propaganda machine is in full bloom ... the government meets God at noon ... the angry orange sun peers through the smoke in the sky ... the screaming kids disrupted the library in the usual way ... everyone looked up then looked down again ...  there goes the social do-gooder ... can't feel your legs no more ... want to move, but you can't ... "help me" I've fallen and can't get up to my walker ... I'll never venture this way again ... the staff at the coffee shop are having a bitch session, which was brought on by the fact that they all hate their jobs ... the mayor of Lantzville hangs out at McDonalds ... there's a water restriction in town, except for the park lawn ... scarred with inequity and roaming the garbage bins at night with a flashlight  … the nightclub is filled with testosterone ... and the ladies are dolled up like a dream ... the bouncers play chess in the corner ... the pharmacy clerk is locked in the janitor closet ... it's recession time again and everyone is in bitch mode complaining about everything ... buy your lottery ticket today ... it's a recession, I’m guessing ... the smartest people I know drive smart cars too ... and they play a smart game of golf ... and they dress smart ... living in front of a fan, through a never-ending heat wave ... woke up on Snake Island, gazing at Beaverton and Brekin and the last frontier ... wine time and bright stars trail mix,  with bats overhead, cleared of any wrongdoing ... Ronda November, the smile you share,  hides behind the wall of hidden despair ... a government clerk with a form to fill ... like a broken jaw ... the letter of the law 
is pounded into your brain ... the media controls the people ... the supplier of the equipment puts the service on hold, while they deal with internal issues ... the business it seems ... is a salesman's dream until the recession kicks the chair out from under you ... the council represents the people,
but their own interests come first ... money and greed, like a viral seed, grows beyond all control ... you were caught in a well planned sting ... yes power corrupts the king ... the forest is alive with fire ... evacuation on the rim of a tire ... collecting points for living the dream ... complaining about the losing team ... all the guys just married their mothers ... need a boss to fully recover ... the calm of the long prairie night ... the fox keeps well out of sight, where the rich kid can race his car, to the vinegar and oil tasting bar ... the media can't keep a secret ... she was a little German flower but she fell in the shower and never was the same again ... an old friend turns 60 ... pollution index soars ... debris found on the shore ... hillbilly style election ... meat draw type selection ... promise not to cheat ... slammed on social media ... no injuries to report on the domestic front lawn ... let the livestock die of thirst, just make sure the lawns are watered regularly through this drought ... ribbon-cutting ceremony to start the elections ... the carnival theme is prosperity for all ... the racist butcher from Battle Creek, complained about the expense of his beef ... born and raised in a slaughterhouse ... met his big boned wife at the nearby processing plant ... it was love of steak at first bite ... cooking with the swing of a bat ... relying on a food tasting contest to gain back the confidence that was lost in the last election ... she answers all questions with a “lay the blame” attack ... then throws money around, in the face of defeat ... I will always honor those who have fallen for our freedoms and our right to vote … but don't throw the guilt around about those who died for our right to vote ... I have no problem with voting, it's the credibility of the people we have to vote for that I have issues with ... the rabbit kicked ass across the football field ... there was a spider on the shoulder of the lovely candidate ... anytime is Tom time ... commercials are about online dating services, life insurance, money loans, weight lose and old age ... I seldom go to the casino, but when I do, I go often ... "Some enchanted evening ... you will find Bruce Glover" ... shadow and light ... will gnaw you tonight ... sedate and sublime ... living on a borrowed time machine ... Devil's shoe-string ... answer on the first ring ... it's all in your head ... coming back from the dead ... on indigo street ... all your sins are discreet ... gorilla campaign ... driving the people insane ... chained to the wheel ... while they shake on the deal ... a prayer for the poor ... may they never need more ... the sea word and morning wood ... I watched out for the blues ... I'm on a dating site for senior Christians … I want to find a senior lady who takes Jesus Christ seriously ... the Harper regime is finally over ... Hail Caesar ... all the negative ads, guerrilla marketing, propaganda, in your face bullshit ... finally over ... I hear only what I want to hear ... ad campaign went on forever ... guerrilla marketing pushing negative weather ... the regime is finally done ... the Harper team on the run ... ill advisers and ill informed … the people have spoken ... your campaign scorned ... too old to see how much change is in my pocket ... ordered a coffee only to find I didn't have the money to pay for it ... the old days are gone when coffee shops run tabs ... it's like having a huge monkey off my back ... a decade of the Harper years are gone ... what a depressing political climate that has finally passed ... never really wondered how we operate ... always felt the positive will win out over hate ... melodic death metal band ... established band  for hire ... oh the Halloween rain pours down like it should ... and all my dieing friends are in emotional ruins ... except for one old guy, who seems to be having fun ... passing away, his daughter makes his day ... carving a pumpkin while the dogs look on ... Happy Halloween fireworks and rain ... Happy Halloween ... Zachary has roadhouse whiskey on his breath ... they are exchanging canon fire in the fields again ... in a drunken celebration ... I'm not in denial ... I just don't want to dwell on it ... here I lie, beneath the moral sky ... what do Joe Wolf, and Mrs. Carmichael have in common ? I don't know ! Moonlight through the clouds on the mountain side ... damn it, I forgot the melody ... it was well in my head as I was driving north to Courtenay early this morning ... I should have recorded it on my smart dumb phone ... I was a long eared bat boy ... I did a stint on the Beauford Sea ... oil exploration … crude of the nation … trying to kick start my economy ... I was a neglected baby ... so I found a career in the navy ... met all sorts ... in numerous ports ... but always longed to get back on the ocean ... Brandy ... you’re one of my later life loves  ... she is fair and warm and deserving ... why do I run away ... to the chilly arms of galore ... a coffee cream whore ... a welcome mat thrown into the alley ... a chain of random events ... media frenzy scooping up the dirt  ... far beyond the Milky Way ... I'm scratching at the pub door today ... begging the janitor to let me in … seems God loves us in the shadows … from sea to Irish Sea.