brady’s cafe



i’m doing a reading at kent state

got an interminably long wait to get on



protesters outside provoke the cops

about an after nine noise pollution law

they bang bongos and march through

the cafe

disrupting the readings

chanting

“noise is illegal noise is llegal.”



i am getting nerve racked and edgy

so i drink port from disguised juice bottle

we smoke a joint

the time drags and i get

somewhat drunk-my face a fiery blush

but no longer feel the thump of my heart

somewhere up in my neck



it’s round midnight

we smoke another

and suddenly i’m on

i totter up grabbing chairs for leverage



the crowd receptive to my words

never knew my mental anguish

or saw the slight in my left knee.


                   ana christy from beatnik blues

These are the things that break me;

The things that take me apart,
They dwell in my head,
They poison my heart.

The look in his eyes,
As I fail to be,
The standard of son,
He expected to see.

These are the things that break me.

The absence of any,
Who could help with the pain,
Grasping at air,
Searching in vain.

These are the things that break me.

The hatred I feel,
The anger I know,
Burning inside,
With nowhere to go.

These are the things that break me.

The thoughts in mind,
Keep me from sleep,
I am a prisoner,
They plan to keep.

These are the things that break me;

The things that take me apart,
They dwell in my head,
They poison my heart.

These are the things that break me.

It's a sweep of emotion
That flows through me so quickly
I can't hold back and control it
Once I start thinking
I think of the world
I think about me
My future
You
Death
Love
I think about the children who felt like me
I think of the children who feel like ****
I think of the children because they don't deserve it
All we need is love
And people claim money is love so they don't give a **** about the children
You selling an innocent soul to the devil
But the innocent soul just want to be a child
The innocent soul don't belong to you
The innocent soul belongs to love
To happiness
To peace
To beauty
To courage
To life
There own life
The beautiful,peaceful,courageous soul of a life.

Well, gentlemen, it all came together in the end there as
you will see when you study the game film later on. You
will notice that we controlled the line of scrimmage during
the entire second half, which is what turned the whole thing
around after falling behind. The way that we mixed it up on
offense, there was no telling where we were going to attack
from. That is what we have struggled with all year long. We
have been inconsistent, to say the least. But I’m sure that you
would all agree that we are starting to jell at just the right time.
Now, after a rough start to the season, it’s on to the playoffs.
Now is when we really need to focus, or it will be “one-and-out”
time. I can guarantee you one thing and one thing only. This
club has yet to reach its full potential. If we can just bang on all
four cylinders from here on out, then we might make a pretty
****** good run at this puppy. Frankly, I’m looking forward to
the challenge; I know that our guys are. They’ve worked their
butts off all year long. Forget about the record. I’ve never been
a real big fan of statistics. There are other factors involved at this
point in the season. It’s been a pleasure, folks. It’s been a long
time coming, and I am sure that this will not be our last rodeo.
Or is it last song and dance? Well, you know. We’ve got more
bulls to ride, and this is going to be like the Calgary Stampede
now. It’s time to saddle up and to man up; that’s all. Giddy up.
Punch them doggies and call in the cavalry. We have arrived!

So I’ve been praying a bit as of late.
I’m not a real member of any particular
denomination; at the present time,
I pray to: “to whom it may concern.”
Not sure of his name—
Actually, I suppose it could be a her.
Sorry, Gloria Allred.
Let’s see there’s God,
there’s Buddha,
then there’s obviously Harry Potter.
There’s always Eric Clapton,
especially in the sixties and seventies.
There’s Pablo Escobar’s legend.
There’s Christ the Savior.
My ex calls the mighty one Yahweh.
I might refer to him as Yogi,
or is it yoga?
Wait—I meant Yngwie Malmsteen.
There’s d-lysergic acid, courtesy of Owsley.
Then there’s always Tai Chi.
It’s whatever you want to call it in order to
center yourself in this slightly slanted world.
I need to pick one of the above, because I
really am dragging my feet at this point.
Any one of my friends would agree that the
bottoms of my shoes appear to be charred.
Holy friction burn, Batman!

Metamorphosis
I feel a churning within
This change is coming...