AFTER THE DEMO.

speaks for itself.

Before the DESTRUCTION

Banks are giving us  .25% on our savings accounts.
Which means they are now Losing Accounts.
So, being disabled, I choose to put my "money"
into solid, touch 'em assets. Such as home improvement.
We are staying here, so we are making the place
wheelchair friendly.

COME PLAY

NEW OLD NEWS

Got home saturday at 2:00 from the Hospital.
I only spent three nights in the largest hospital room in the Universe.
It was once a 4 - Bed birthing Unit.  The vibe is angry woman cursing every masculine molecule in view or not; begging for drugs and sharp scissors.
So, yeah, it was pleasant. It was on the fifth floor with windows festooned with Monster Spider Webs spun by prehistoric monster spider beings. When the windows need to be washed; they hire Blackwater.

But I bitedress; my old everpresent friend Mr. MRSA, made an appearance that went bad, quickly, This means I need to get myself into Room 506 promptly. My team is my Primary Doc, a Vascular Doc, A Foot Surgeon, and the Infectious Control Doc. While they confer, I renew old acquaintince's with the Nurse's and Aides.

What happened was I got new, orthopaedic shoes, snappy little boot leather, and instead of gradually breaking them in, I put them on and went to work in the woods for 5 hours. ( It's a big, final deal! Really, I mean it! ) I developed a bit of a wearing away of a few layers of skin at the base of the little toe. To make a boring story less boring, it got infected. So now I need to take Vanco ( look it up ) twice a day for a few weeks at least. If its in the bone to any degree, i'll be losing some weight quickly, and you can call me shorty.

THE END

Good news - I have heard from Tom Thibodeau and it looks like we will be jamming. With Ness Patenaude - Piano, harp and vocals. This could be much fun. Turn on the Tascam and hook up 8 Shures and Mic the entire room .........

ES-330, Me playing an old man...

O.K.

How does this work?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=poBOfW1f6yo

On Bums, Hippies and Other Nostalgia Acts

There should be no borders, man; and, like, no personal property! No one needs three bedrooms and two baths, man. Like my parents, man. They should just have the government, man, put up these group homes where, man, you could just go sleep when you're tired. You wouldn't be bothering nobody, man. Like my grandfather, man, he's in this, like group home with other old dudes and ladies, man. They feed them and everything. Give them drugs, man. That's the way everything should be man. Everything should like just be free, man , from the people to the people.

signed,

Lumpy ..............

Under the First Tree

on the Right 

as you come into

People's Park.

man

after the rain

The BIG poem down below - about the English - is part of a larger poem. The next installment could be "Passaconaway".
But for the time being; here's a smaller poem about heartbreak, booze and wild geese.

4-24-00

after the rain

the enemy

comes not

down

in the bottom

of the bottle

- it sneaks

into the soul

soundless in

the  Dead

of night-

just when

you let

love

slip out.

........................

II

when you

no longer hear

the breaking

of another 

heart

when the wild

beating

of the  wing

goes un-noticed.

Then

.........................

III.

you begin -

to hear the secret

language

of the heart.