Vicky opened the freezer compartment of her refrigerator, and got out a box of vanilla ice cream. She looked down at the ceramic bowl and scooped a piece of vanilla ice cream with a spoon. She ate it and it tasted creamy and cold.

            Glenn forced a smile, as if he were trying to placate her, and knew he had no chance in hell of accomplishing that feat. He reached out and grabbed her hand, squeezing it.

            “You’re really going today?” Vicky asked.

            “Yeah, I really am. Hey, don’t do that. Can't you be strong for us?” Glenn asked.

            Vicky nodded and watched Glenn take in a deep breath and look down at his scuffed tennis shoes. They went out of the house and walked to the veranda. The sunlight was bright and hot and the ice cubes in the lemonade melted from the heat that blazed and scorched when Vicky pulled from her vape.  

             Glenn pushed his chair back and sat down, the veranda was filled with shade, and he dribbled his fingers on the table in a steady rhythm. She tried not to look at him, tried not to think about him leaving for the war, but all she could think about was him flying a fighter jet and seeing it fly into a golden mountain range, smashing into a thousand pieces of aluminum and scrap metal.

            “I don’t understand why you have to go back to the Middle East…you were so against the fighting in the beginning when the war started. And now you’re changing your mind. I mean, what are you trying to prove?” Vicky asked, taking a sip from her lemonade.

            Glenn folded his hands on the table and said in a quiet voice, “I’m not trying to prove anything. But I got to go over there. So many of my friends have died in Afghanistan and Iraq. Now people are dying in Syria. All of those refugees are getting murdered. Not killed. Murdered. They don’t have anyone helping them. I just want to make a small contribution and **** these terrorists up.”

            “What about me Glenn? Who’s going to be there for me? Who’s going to take care of me?” Vicky said, feeling her tears brim her eyes.

            “Look Vicky. I have to do this and I don’t expect you to understand what I’m doing, but I need your support. All these people are dying. You can see it all over the news, the net, social media. The terrorists don’t discriminate in their slaughter. Women, men, boys, girls, young and old. Every person is getting hurt out there. I can’t sit back and do nothing. I won’t be gone for long. I’ll be back before you know it. Promise, I’ll come back,” Glenn said, rubbing her Vicky’s hand. He touched the skin right above her wrist and offered her a smile.

            Vicky withdrew her hand immediately, got up from her seat, and went inside to the family room. He was drinking his lemonade when he set the glass down on the countertop and walked into the kitchen. Vicky slammed the freezer door so hard that some of the alphabet magnets fell off. Glenn flinched and cleared his throat as he washed his glass in the sink. The water dripped down his hands and washed his wrists.  

              She set the ice cream down on the countertop and looked directly into Glenn’s eyes. They were droopy and red with his pupils fixated on the large flat screen mounted on the wall in front of him. A computer keyboard sat on the couch cushion and a mouse-pad sat on the couch-arm. The TV screen showed a picture of men and women cramped in black inflatable boats coasting up and down waves that undulated in murky waters. A commercial break popped up: Anderson Cooper doing the news from Turkey.

               Glenn rubbed his chin and his new buzz cut, a huge difference from his old stoner’s shaggy hair. His face was narrow, but he had a broad chin with dimples in his cheeks. He was clean shaven, so much, that it looked like the razor had cut off the frightened expression from his face that had appeared when he found out he was going to be training to be a pilot. Glenn had a huge fear when it came to heights, and had never even been on a plane, let alone flying into an unknown territory like Syria. The military operated with drones at this point in the war, something Glenn hoped he could use instead of actually flying. He tucked in his raggedy camo green tee with the sleeves cut off. He smoothed out the wrinkles in his tan khakis, folded the ends up like edges on a cocktail napkin. Glenn looked comfortable in his old attire, but seemed unsettled, as if unsure about going back into the military.

              Vicky stared across the room at the decaying bonsai trees on the cracked windowsill. She had bought the trees for Glenn and now the leaves were browning and turning dead. Outside, it thundered with lightning. She said softly, “You remember Maggie Drayner, right? Well, her husband died over there. I can’t imagine what she must go through every day. I think she’s gone insane. Just absolutely insane. She cremated him and put some of the ashes in a mason jar, and stashed that in her purse. But she always looks so happy, she tells me: he’s always with her now. I worry about her.”

              Glenn wiped his hands on a bath towel. “So, they’re like us now? Is that what you’re saying? Why are you telling me this?” he asked, turning around to face her.

              Vicky put her hands on her hip and sighed. “If you go over there, they’re going to hurt you,” she said, pulling on her vape. A plume of smoke rose and fell.

               Focused on the screen now, Glenn watched as three American soldiers were standing in front of an American flag. “That’s nice of you to say. Do you understand my perspective though? I really got to help out these guys right now Vicky, I’d feel like I’m letting them down if I don’t go over there. They need me. Maybe you don’t see this, but I’m making a difference.”

              “Life isn’t some stupid game. You don’t get a restart, lives, or a respawn. Why can’t you stay home, stay with me?” she asked. Vicky frowned and pointed at the TV screen. “Do you think that’s smart? Killing people?”

              Glenn reached over to hug Vicky and she moved right out of his grasp. He looked up at her and sighed and said, “It’s a one-way street and both sides are crashing into each other, without any regard for any soul. Baby, baby look at me. Do you think I enjoy doing this to you? That this is a vacation for me? Trust me. I’d rather be doing spending time with you than fighting the enemy. But that’s not how life turned out.”

               Vicky bit her lip. “So this is how life turned out? You’re going to war, and I’m stuck here at home, we’re both going to die aren’t we Glenn?” she said. Her mouth felt sore and parched and her face burned with irritation. She knew she couldn’t stop him from going, not even if she poured quicksand over the front entrance.

                 Glenn ran his fingers through his black hair and rested his chin on his palm. “You know that’s not what I meant, don’t twist my words. You think it’s easy for me to go?”

            She turned away from him and rapped her nails against the TV screen. “What do you see that I don’t? It’s a stupid war. Everyone dies over there. Glenn, you don’t have to save the world. You have me,” she said, feeling some tension in her stomach rise up.

              Glenn picked up the remote control and turned off the TV. The picture went fuzzy and then went black. He said, “Vicky, I’m going to say this once and then I don’t want to have to repeat myself, so please be calm down, and listen to me. Please.”

                 Vicky curled her bottom lip, but didn’t say anything.

                “Do you even know why I’m doing a second tour again? A bomb hit my best friend Theo’s squad on the way to a mission. The car flipped and rolled twice. Theo was the driver and he had severe head trauma. Now, he can’t even remember his first name. He almost lost and arm and a leg due to the explosion. I think his mind is deteriorating. I don’t know how he survived, why some higher power let him breathe another breath. I haven’t been to church in months. But that’s not the point. What I’m trying to say is Vicky—the reason why I’m going back into this war, is because, I want to save guys like Theo. I could have protected him. I could have saved him. He’s family to me. We’re brothers. And in my home, I can pretend to fight and protect my family and my country. But it’s not the same. It’s just not. And honestly, I don’t care if this is pathetic to you or if you’re embarrassed of me. You’re going to have to accept that I’m leaving, but that I’m doing it for the right reasons.” Glenn said.

                  Vicky frowned. She went back to the kitchen and opened her ice cream. But she hesitated before scooping any ice cream out. She was looking for substance and instead she was left with melted vanilla cream and vapors.

I had it all made before Glenn my trainer
Came along
I finally got Canberra to respect I like to party
And I finally got Canberra to respect me as a person
No, I had it all made before Glenn my trainer came along
I watched the wallabies even if they lose
I cheered for the raiders with cool people
And if they won I would be happy
I still like to exercise
But the cool people liked everything I did
But when Glenn my trainer came along
He said shape up
Write proper stories
Don’t be lazy
Walk quickly don’t walk slow
No, I had it made
I was able to make Canberra realise
That there is nothing wrong with being lazy
Especially on a Sunday
And Glenn my trainer treated me like a robot
To make me a fully functioning human being
I don’t want to be a fully functioning human being
I go on the bike 15 minutes at a time
But Glenn my trainer made me do
41000 steps a day
And I refused because I am not a machine
Yes, I had it made before Glenn my trainer came along
I did what I wanted to do
Yes today I do my exercises
And I can have fun
But I want people to like me for what I am
As opposed to the fully functional human being that Glenn my trainer wanted me to be
I tell you I had it made

I am a man regardless of what you say.
I am a man regardless of what I see in the mirror every day.
Alexis Elizabeth Glenn...
That name will be reserved for someone who wants it because it sure as hell isn't me.
Alexavier Edward Glenn...
That name I only hear in my head.
Yet when I turn that big one right it will be the only name coming from people's mouths.
When I turn eighteen my life will get better.
Alexis Elizabeth Glenn...
This name doesn't mean anything anymore.
Soon it will be a distant memory a horrible nightmare.
Alexavier Edward Glenn...
My future daydream.
Don't worry this isn't the death of Alexis.
It is the birth of Alexavier. Yet most of her will for out.
Yet she will always be part of me.
I won't cross out that name.
Alexis Elizabeth Glenn
From my memoir.
Alexis Elizabeth Glenn is the prologue for Alexavier Edward Glenn.

I want to be friends with Glenn Danzig.
We can conjure up some evil.
No lesser imps
or minor demons though.
Only a meeting with
the capital “D” Devil
because Glenn and I would command such an audience.

I want to be friends with Glenn Danzig.
We can giggle like schoolgirls
when Chuck Biscuits sits on that whoopie cushion we left out for him or
finds a fake, plastic eyeball floating in his coffee mug.

I want to be friends with Glenn Danzig.
We can go on the “Punch America’s Face Again” tour.
We wouldn't be singing in our slimy baritones on this road trip.
Just passing out black eyes
like Halloween candy.
Leaving a trail of busted noses and
broken hearts
in our wake.

There would be sleepovers.
Glenn and me
with Iggy Pop, Johnny Rotten and
the ghost of Peter Steele in attendance.
Ouija Boards and light-as-a-feather.
Peter Steele would always win.
He is a ******* ghost after all.

We could give each other nicknames:
Goodboy Glenn and The Big Dill.
maybe a secret handshake…
Nothing too elaborate.
Just cool, y’know?

We would text one another
after the season finale of The Walking Dead:

Darryl needs to die he’s not even in the comic but it’ll probably be Michonne there’s no justice on T.V. for cool black girls this show has just been a study in emotionally manipulating its audience since the beginning anyway why are we the only ones who see that

Why are we the only ones who see that?

Are you listening Glenn?

The only computer on board was Glenn’s brain,
as he orbited up  in the heavens.
The heat shield was damaged and hung loose on the frame.
His odds of survival were even.
With faith placed in God; no time even to think
Glenn began the flaming descent.
Icarus or Daedalus; which would he be?
Was Glenn’s luck still good or all spent?

In the waters below the Navy stood watch,
anxiously scanning the skies.
His wife had been told she should expect the worst;
The Mission head thought Glenn might die.
There! A red parachute dotted the sky!
The destroyer “Noe” sped to the scene.
Not since Lucky Lindy had America had
Such a hero who dared us to dream

Jackie Robinson is exalted
as the first Black man to play,
but far fewer fans remember Glenn Burke,
the first ballplayer openly gay.

Like Jackie, he played for the Dodgers-
(different coast and a different time.)
Glenn came up to the Majors
In the summer of 79’

Burke was strong and tall and fast
And some teammates called him “ King Kong”
Though he roomed with Reggie Smith on the road
most nights Reggie Smith slept alone.

Burke befriended Young Tommy Lasorda
which was why he was traded away.
Old Lasorda couldn’t deal with the rumors,
Nor acknowledge his own son was gay.

Glenn Burke rode the pines while in Oakland
Billy Martin never gave him much chance
When Burke injured his leg in Spring Training
That ended his time at the dance.

He drifted, his playing days over,
He used, he stole and did time.
An accident left him a *******
Unprotected *** ended his line.

No shock was the A.I.D.s diagnosis-
His sister had long known he was gay.
When she took him in he was dying
when all others turned him away.

Sandy Alderson, with the Athletics,
took pity on Burke in despair.
The team paid for his A.I.D.S. medication
and covered the cost of his care.

Sad is the fate of the Athlete unsung,
dying apart from his team.
Glenn Burke showed that a gay man could play,
That a Gay Athlete also can dream.

Glenn Burke passed a long time ago
But his story deserves to be told.
He said when your suffering, dying of A.I.D.S.
Even days in the summer are cold.

I commit to poems the second that I begin writing them,
And here I am committing to this one,
My cursor on the screen
Tap tap tapping like tap-roots across it’s blue-glowing surface.
With every push of every button,
I begin seeing the blue light
As more than it is. I begin seeing it as a poem.
The blue light that illuminated the Never Sink sinkhole
Was not from a screen.
Nor was it from glowworms.
As I write on this screen though, there is that same blue light
With me still. It is
Streaming from the walls of the cavern,
Still massaging the bags of tiredness
That hang beneath my eyelids to remind me
Of where I just was, having *** with my ex-girlfriend,
And of all the places that I was before that: to remind me
Of the blue lights in Never Sink,
The sinkhole that is 120 feet wide and 170 feet deep that I
Climbed out of on a rope and in the dark,
Which was anything but dark—an unlocked lock
Sat in my driveway after I got home

From having *** with my ex-girlfriend tonight,
And there, in that lock, was a comparison to or an analogy for or a metaphor of
My climb out of Never Sink: gradual ascension
And then a moment
Of absolute awe and profundity so unlike any other profundity
That the clarity I felt absolutely throughout my body tonight
Can only really be brought into my mind with full force
Through a comparison and analogy and metaphor
To, for, and of the blue lights
That that temple provided us. Looking into that lock’s
Reflective gleam, I discovered that I felt
The way I’d felt ever since climbing out of Never Sink, which was exactly
How I’d spent the past year or so wanting to feel.

“Bring me,” I said to Duane, who went with me to Never Sink,
“To the hole in the ground
Where the blue light glows; where the glow-worms lightly blaze” and Duane
Said “okay” and he brought me there without
My ever having to say those words. And then,
In the moments after the sun went down we discovered
That the glowworms were not glowworms but
Armillaria mellea, a bioluminescent fungus.
Not glowworms but Armillaria mellea,
Which rose through and across the cave walls, coating the rock
With its skin. The whole pit was covered in that skin—the skin
Of that single individual.
As I methodically climbed out of the sinkhole on my rope, I felt that
Fungus (that individual) extending
Its black shoelace looking taproots into my lungs too,
And into my skin,
Where I was but where
I wasn’t quite yet. Where I was but
Where I couldn’t yet describe to myself without the use of glowworms—
Without the use of made-up and childish sounding words
Like Depropheria, which I wrote a book about but which
I never really understood, and I, the whole concept of which is flawed,
Feel like I could be the plant on Joe’s counter,
Which he said I already am.
Because if my “I” was in all of its molecules and its “I” was in all of my molecules
Then we would both just be exactly what we already were, Joe said, and so
By the very logic I extended in posing the question
I was and am the plant.

I could be Armillaria mellea too
But what am I if I think that I am glowworms? but really
The glowworms are fungus, and while I ****** my ex-girlfriend tonight, falling
Further into the space away from her, I was also
Scraping away at the walls of Never Sink
To see the tiny little hairs that revealed to Duane and I what really was there,
The Armillaria mellea, of course, but how could something so different
(“**** me, Daniel,” she said, “I feel you inside of me, I want you.”
“**** me,” I said
“”
“I feel myself inside of you, I”)
Be the thing that I am? I would never

Stop the car because I saw something shining on my driveway.
And I would never
Open the car door
And step out into the night with the engine running.
Step out into the night to find an
Unlocked lock
Lying there on the pavement while the song that I tried to live all year
Called In the Aeroplane Over the Sea by Neutral Milk Hotel blasts loudly
From my Buick’s speakers. Step out into the night
With that song blaring through my open car door, surely waking
My soon to be empty-nested mother from her sleep behind
That second story window
Right up ahead.

I did those things though—I
Stopped the car because I saw something shining on my driveway, and I
Did those things.
I am glow-worms.
I am, and so
I am the plant on Joe’s counter, and so
I can be a glow-worm.
I can be what I already am without knowing or comprehending that I am it.
I can be the whole universe.
I am the whole universe.
I saw over one hundred salamanders at the bottom of Never Sink.
And I saw four different species of salamanders at the bottom of Never Sink.
And I saw six different species of frogs, and I saw
Three brown rat snakes, which thankfully were not copperheads, but which
Could have been glowworms that were copperheads,
I guess. If you ask Joe, anyway. I’m not sure
I believe it fully
Even though when you strip away sentimental definitions of “I”
It’s pretty **** convincing. He was convincing.

I danced around Joe’s counter (where the plant sat, even then)
In September. At the time,
The counter was quickly becoming Alex’s counter,
Because I was becoming close friends with Alex,
And because Alex was Joe’s little sister, and because
Joe had left for the college he’d drop out of,
And during his hiatus from what he’d wanted to run from
It was just
Alex’s counter. It is Joe’s counter again now,
Because Alex has a dumb boyfriend who she likes to kiss
And doesn’t really like to ****
But who she does **** anyway and as a result
Doesn’t really like spending much time not ******* me anymore.
Anyway, I danced

Around Joe’s counter in September, when it was becoming Alex’s counter,
And I sank songs like In the Aeroplane Over the Sea by Neutral Milk Hotel
With all my new friends. I thought that I
Was living those songs
Because, if my “I” was in the molecules that vibrated when the song played,
And the “I” of those molecules was in me
Then I would be those songs and those songs would be me.
Being the songs wasn’t the same as living the songs, though.
Rising out of Never Sink I saw myself
Reflected in the blue dots of light that Armillaria mellea created.
I saw that I hadn’t been living everything
That I was; I saw that I was the blue dots then, but I also saw
That I didn’t know that the blue dots weren’t glowworms.

When I was dancing
Around Joe’s counter, I didn’t yet know the words
To In the Aeroplane Over the Sea by Neutral Milk Hotel.
But all my new friends were singing those words, and so I
Screamed out barely-syllabic nonsense
With a smile on my face,
Speaking like a baby who recognizes the existence of language
But can’t yet put it into use.

Rising out of Never Sink
The whole cave opened up, as more and more levels of the sinkhole
Were revealed to be stars and galaxies
Of blue fungus to climb through.
Rising out of Never Sink, I held in my hand
The unlocked lock which I would use later
To weight my pocket as I would sit with these bags of tiredness hanging
Writing this poem late at night on the screen illuminated
By the blue lights of Never Sink. To weight my pocket
As I would sit writing this poem, with
***** excreted thirty minutes prior still resting on my ****
Like the name I haven’t yet learned to call her—
Caterina, Caterina, why did she change it? Maria
Was so pretty, why did she change her name, it was
To get away from me, it was to get away from me like
I wanted to get away from her, it was to get away from me it was
Because she always hated the name Maria. And
To grow more confident in herself
She needed to become
Caterina. She needed to rebrand herself like she worked on rebranding
That company’s logo for her senior thesis project in high school
When I first fell in love with her because
Glowworms lit up Never Sink at night.

They were glowworms in Never Sink
Because the glowworms are fungus
And I am the glowworms.

If you ask Joe.

I want to take some time now to describe
Rising out of Never Sink
Without giving any time
To the lock I found in my drive-way this evening, or
To Joe’s counter-top and how I danced around it knowing
That it wasn’t his but that it was him,
Or to the remnants of Maria, Caterina, and I which are all I, and which
Stick to my ***** still. Never Sink is a sinkhole
That is 170 feet deep
And 120 feet wide at its top.

I went spelunking in Alamaba, Georgia, and/or Tennesse last week
Where I never knew which state or time zone I was in,
And where an annoying but charming guy named Glenn
Led me and my best friend through epic places of infinite beauty.
One of those places was Never Sink,
Which is a sinkhole that is
170 feet deep and
120 feet wide at its top. We repelled into Never Sink
Because Glenn wanted to show us the glowworms
(Which were fungus that were glowworms that were
**** it) and because my friend Duane, who is my best friend, who is
A 39 year-old factory worker who worries that he is much older than he is,
Wanted to see the glowworms too.
We found over a hundred salamanders in Never Sink
And Duane and I discovered that it wasn’t glowworms
That illuminated the pit, but Armillaria mellea, which is a fungus, and
It was very cool.
But ascending through Never Sink was more than very cool,
And it was much more than fungus,
Just as the fungus which I took into my body in August (which it
Almost is again now) after the summer music festival was more
Than just fungus. That fungus was more than just fungus because
I took it into my body right after breaking up with Maria-Caterina (who
I can’t not talk about) For Good (which was
The name of a song they sang
At Maria-Caterina’s high school graduation a year ago, after which
We made love (which was what we called it
Because we were cliché and in love
(Which is what we made.)))

It was a spiritual journey through the cosmos,
In Never Sink,
Or at least that’s how it felt,
And when I climbed out of Never Sink’s mouth, I hugged Duane
And he hugged me and we
Thought that it was beautiful.

I am the plant in Joe’s kitchen.
I am glowworms.

at the start of 2016, old time rocker Bon scott decided to start u[ a rock band

and the songs he will play is the music of astrology and the members of his band is

David Bowie and Lemmy from motor head and Glenn Frey, you see Lemmy and Bowie

and Glenn frey were rehearsing with each other and the first song they did together was

jupiter arising

we were moving up and down the great walls of outer space

understanding that there was a concert playing there

the ,music that was playing was hotel California and the heat is on

and then David Bowie sang ground control to major Tom

you see the music was very loud ya see, very very loud

it was like being back on earth singing to our crowd

oh yeah it is now the hotel california to you

the party that we have, was getting drunk on bottles of scotch

you see that was what my name was mr bon scott

and then i woke up dreaming saying what the heck is happening to me

and the dreaming of a local farmer losing his stock

you see the farmers name was scott and so is my last name

maybe we need to stop terrorism

maybe we need to stop crimes in general

people are committing too many crimes we need to flee them to stop

I know one cosmic music concert isn’t going to stop it no

the man named Jesus Christ said come on Bon we need you to entertain us

my next life is a down syndrome man, living in Canberra

you see he moves his body when he is waiting for the ute doing head banging oh yeah

i really think this whole death thing is quite stupid oh ****** yeah

please send my next life to have some fun, oh yeah jupiter arising


and now here is Davie Bowie

ground control to major Jupiter ground control to major jupiter

this is major jupiter to ground control

planet earth looked doomed and there is nothing more to do

and i will leave my next life to come back and say, i wanna help

ground control to major Jupiter ground controll jupiter

i think planet earth became real bad, with terrorists and people losing lives and all their possessions

ground control to major jupiter

the party is on for young and old and we have no party if the earth doesn’t move

ground control to major jupiter

ashes to ashes fun loving monkey

we know major Tom’s a ******

stuck in heaven and then i met these singers and other singers followed me up

ground control to major jupiter

ground control to major jupiter

i know planet earth is doomed and there is nothing else to do

ground control to major jupiter

all the people in the crowd, just watch ya back because terrorists are coming on your back

ground control to major jupiter


and now here is Lemmy from motor head


i party and i love my life and i know my music was loud ya know

but loud is great and it shows me one thing that i love life

i dream of life and i dreamt of of being dead

I know a lot of us are scared of being dead

everyone lives forever anyway through reincarnation

you can come back to life as a cat or dog or bird

you can come back to life as a magpie or a man who played for the magpies

you see we get down and party party and party on

this is the time for the man to say, let’s party from Lemmy

the motrohead singer who is so cool

he is the singer who breaks no rules

we are on jupiter trying to stop terrorism in outer space and on earth

we need to get rid rid of Ronnie Biggs and Ted Bundy and many many many more

Ahhhhhhhh!   Ahhhhhhhh!, let’s party let’s [arty

as we het together and say, stop the terrorists we certainly say


and now it’s Glenn Frey’s turn

the heat is on, it’s on the street

the heat is on burning everyone we ,meet

the heat is on, we will party right

every day and every night

you see now we have the action and we will keep the flood lights on

because if the heat still is with us, we need the water from the flood to cool us down

the heat is on oh yeah

oh yeah oh yeah oh yeah oh yeah

we are caught up in the action we are looking up to you

oh yeah oh yeah oh yeah oh yeah

hotlel califorina is sang so great

and the heat is on every day and night

oh yeah oh yeah oh yeah oh yeah

caught up in the action i am looking up ro you


you see Bon Scott wants this to be a way that music can calm the savage beast from within

and everyone says to each other howdy, and i say to my recent deceased in music glenn frey and

Daeid Bowie and Lemmy, and i want to show how cool these musical artists were when they

brought their music to help save the world and now musci can save the universe and now here

is john Lennon

i know that there is no heaven, nirvana is the key

there is no hell below us, above us is the parties we have up here

there is no god up here, i wish their were

but i am sure that there is peace up here, let’s bring this peace to earth

imagine all the people dead or alive

you see people say we are dreamers

but we are not the only one

i hope one day you will join us, and the universe will be as 1

there will be space ships taking us anywhere we like

i don’t care how long it takes my friends


and the world will be as one


and now the party is on, and we are attempting to save the universe with music

Near Execution in Osaka

One day I was marching with other prisoners through the streets of Osaka, returning form that day's work. It was bitterly cold and my hands became numb. I placed my lifeless hands into the pockets of my ragged pants. As I entered the camp gates, I noticed a Japanese guard pointing his finger at me, calling me to the attention of another guard. Later, in formation along with the other American POWs, I noticed the same guard pointing at me and walking in my direction. He instructed me to follow him. I really didn't think much about this at first.

I followed the guard into the camp commander's office with the interpreter walking beside me. I was ordered to come to attention and bow to the major,  who was sitting at this desk. A few moments later, the interpreter came over to me and said, "You were marching down the road with your hands in your pockets, and that is not permitted for Japanese soldiers."

I replied, "I'm not a Japanese soldier. I'm a prisoner of war!" After hearing the major shout in Japanese to the interpreter, I was told in English by the interpreter, "The same rules apply to all POWs!" "I didn't know that," I answered. In a faint voice I told the interpreter, "Why don't they tell us their rules?" To myself I thought, if I knew al the rules I wouldn't break them.

The major screamed at the interpreter, who translated; "You are an American soldier and you do not march with hands in pockets!" I responded bluntly, "Let me know the regulations, and I will obey." The interpreter translated my answer for the major. With a shocked look on his face the major jumped out of his chair and whacked his clenched fist on top of the desk. I know now that I had really provoked him. By the manner in which he spoke to the translator, I could tell he wasn't thrilled by my attitude. He arose again quickly from his seat and walked toward me, and the guard made me bow once more.

The interpreter said, "The commander does not like your attitudes!" At that point, the major pulled his sword out and nicked my throat. I felt the blood streaming down my neck.

"Prisoner can be executed for disobeying orders!" the interpreter continued. All I could do was stand still with thoughts of terror running through my mind. I stared into the major's hateful eyes. I never took my eyes off him, not for a moment.

All of this, for just walking with my hands in my pockets. A strange feeling came over me, and I suddenly knew this was a very serious matter. The major yelled at the guard, "Take him outside! I do not want blood all over my floor!" I began walking out of the office, with the rifle point of the guard behind me pressing into my back.

He then ordered me to stop. I came to a complete halt, as instructed. I stood there waiting at attention for the next command, when I began thinking of and seeing myself buried in Japanese soil. My mind raced and I felt an imminent fear, but somehow I felt I had a fighting chance.

I heard the commander and interpreter coming out adjacent to where I was standing. As they were speaking back and forth in Japanese, all I could do was stand still. I was then ordered by the guard to bow one more time to the major.

"The major is going to execute you, so all of the men will know that breaking regulations won't be tolerated!" the interpreter announced. The major walked in front of me and pulled his sword out again and put it to my throat. They expected me to beg for mercy. The interpreter asked, "Do you have anything to say?"

"I guess," I told the interpreter, as I looked into the major's eyes. And then these words came to me, and to this day I have no idea where they came from.

"He can **** me, " I replied, "but he will not **** my spirit, and my spirit will lodge inside him and haunt him for the rest of his life!" I was asked by the translator to repeat what I had uttered. A terrifying feeling came over me instantly, and my blood flushed over my entire body, making me absolutely burn with horror.

I said, still staring into the major's eyes, "He can **** me but he will not **** my spirit and my spirit will lodge in his flesh for his entire life! The Americans are coming and any Japanese who kills an American without just cause will have their spirit haunt them forever!"

I did not grasp at first what I had actually said. I was prepared to dodge the sword if the major made  a move to swing it at me. I watched his every move, never taking my eyes off of him. All of a sudden, a mysterious expression appeared on the major's face. Then, to my amazement, the major made three steps back and lowered his sword. I gazed up to the sky and said, "Thank you , Lord." This was the first time I had seen a Japanese soldier back off from an execution.

The major then ordered the guard to take me to the pit in the earth that was used for solitary confinement. The guard, with his weapon shoved into my back, ****** me towards the 5'x5'x5' hole in the ground. As the Japanese guard lifted the cover to the hole, I wasn't sure that this ordeal was finished. He motioned for me to get down inside. Looking down into the depths of that dark place, I tried to get in. I landed head first, face down, after being pushed or kicked by the guard. My face and neck were hurting badly as I wiped the tears  from my eyes.

Homecoming and Nightmares

It was great being home, but everything that had happened to me was still roiling around inside me. It was like two people came home. One of them was the boy I had been and the one my family saw when hugged me and talked to me. The other was the man I had become, full of memories and feelings that I could not deal with. Things had happened so fast, and I had not been able to overcome the fear, the suffering, and the rage and pure hatred that I had inside me. When the war with Japan ended on September 2, 1945, I was a Japanese prisoner of war in a slave labor camp on the western coast of Japan about 500 miles by train from Tokyo.

That was just a few weeks ago. Now I was supposed to try to adjust to a life that for four years I never thought I would never live again. To my family and friends I was plain old Glenn Dowling Frazier, the soldier that was home again. But I knew I was no longer that person. My thoughts were often full, not of the freedom and love that surrounded me, but of the Bataan Death March, of the times that my body was so badly beaten and sick that I feared I would not live another night...

The horrors of the war were with me every day and night for the next twenty-nine to thirty years. At times, I wished I had never come home. I imagined how peaceful it would be to lie down in a quiet place and find the peace that only comes with death...

At times I would resort to drinking to try to forget my problem. It became impossible to tell anyone that my experiences in a war over 30 years ago were still haunting me. My body was telling me that something had to be done to end my problem, but when thoughts of resolving it came into my mind, I found it so strongly embedded in my beliefs that it was impossible to do anything about it. I was reaching the end of the rope.

Early one morning, about 2 a.m., I awoke from sleep, and before I really knew what was happening, I was kneeling by my bed praying to God. It was like an uncontrollable force working inside me, even giving me the words to say. In that prayer, I asked God to help me shake the curse that was controlling me.

I had asked my preacher at times about ways to get help and solve my problem, only to be told that I must forgive the Japanese. I said, "Oh no, I can't do that. They have never apologized to all of us, how can I do that?" And I continued to suffer.

But the force within me this night brought the tears. I cried my eyes out. Every thought that passed through my mind was like a voice inside me saying, "You must forgive everyone and everything that has hurt you. You must forgive the Japanese and forgive yourself for harboring this hate for so long. "

Brian the cool vinnies bloke


you see brian allan was looking for something to do, to get him from being street trash

and a very nice lady named rowena said why don’t you work for vinnies, and brian said why not

and the next day, he was given an interview with helen, who was the boss at vinnies, and

she thought it would be great to have someone to do the bins and vacuum the floor before the start

and after 4 weeks of being there, brian thought he would like to be santa claus, and had to make uo

a proper reason for doing it, so brian said, i like the idea of giving the kids, who hate shopping with parents

a treat and helen thought she will make gingerbread men, to tickle the childs taste buds a lot,but helen was

in a bind, because i haven’t got a beard and she suggested i spray paint my real beard, but my parents were against that

because it would go against everything that santa stood for, but brian got angry with his parents and told them

that if they spray painted his beard, there will be no smart alek of a kid to pull his beard off, and as brian said that

his father yelled out, THAT’S ENOUGH, thinking i cared nothing about the kids of this city but that offended brian a lot

and made him hit his father, and this got brian really hyped up on being the best santa claus in canberra, and then

when brian explained to helen that it was causing a stir with the family to spray paint the beard, helen decided to

get a fake beard for me to use, and on the first day i played santa, i offered some of the adults gingerbread men

and they said, save them for the kids, and one little girl, who had the same resemblance to my eldest niece, said

i was a fake santa, and the santa at the mall was more real than i was, and some of the vinnies ladies brought their

own grandchildren in to get their gift from santa and i did my first year of santa, despite some smart a lek of a kid

attemptng to pull my beard off, but i was too smart for him, and after christmas was over packed my santa suit away for the first time

and then i met david who did the shoes, and i found him very good to talk too, you see i said when he dies he will be the

shoe shine man in heaven, but he sounded like he hated the idea, and he liked to joke around with stephen and mable and

i vacuumed the floor and then went outside to empty the clothing bin, and i did this all the time, ya know every day, and i had ken and brian

to help me, but brian thought it would be cool to bang on the clothing bin, while i was still in it and i told helen and she said

you should speak up for yourself, because i seem to let people walk all over me, and really i can’t be bullied by this so called brian

character, and then i started something new, you see i thought, it would be nice to to cook lunches 3 days a week at the new mental health

building, called the rainbow and i learnt how to do creative writing as well as meeting the messiah and a man named barry, who was a

really cool poet, sort of reminded me of my father, mainly because of his poem sounding like banjo patterson and henry lawson, and barry

was a lover of fitzroy, and supported the brisbane lions afl club, and i went to the club i do the bbq for, to watch the game with him and

he left before the end of the match and, i continued to go about my merry way, cooking meals at the rainbow and going on trips with the rainbow

having sing-a=longs and one man, warwick, swam 45 km at once and helen got a fire engine and i sat in it, and a star canberra raiders star

came to vinnies and signed a ball for me and my second year of santa claus went well also, i wrote fly burgers also that year, which was

funny and when i read it out, everyone was laughing along with it and they clapped it, and i read out the fact i missed scott macdonald also

and i went to queensland that year also, and when i got in my santa suit, i was visioning i will tell the kids i am an australian santa and instead of

living on the north pole, i lived right here in canberra but my parents who were strict on keeping kids imaginations flowing, hated me disillusioning

the kids minds, you see here is a poem about the aussie santa

ya see g’day mate i am the real santa

i don’t live at the north pole

i live in canberra australia, ya know the hot place, around christmas day

ya see ya know christmas is great as i do my gigs at vinnies

and as a treat i give out gingerbread men and lollies

you see christmas is fun for all ages dudes, yeah it’s fun oh yeah that’s right mate

i hope you don’t do ya santa gig way to ****** late


you see i thought i was given this gig, to bring the cool into santa

and one year i was doing my gig with an orange soda

who loves orange soda, i love orange soda

is it true, oh yeah it’s true ooh ooh ooh oh yeah

and in the following year, i was feeling fine, and my psychiatrist reduced my medication and that pushed me straight to the psych ward, where i thought

i died, and the psych ward was the gate to heaven and that ended the cool vinnies kid reign but i came back and i was more interested talking with david

and doing santa claus and that year i was checking tapes, but that only lasted 5 months, because there were getting more tapes coming in, i couldn’t keep it up

and santa was the thing, and because i was a good worker, suddenly everyone wanted me, but that was because of my manly charm, and helen left and glenn

came in and he had this little jingle, brian brian brian everything is fine, brian brian brian he’s a friend of mine brian brian brian makes the carpet shine?

you see his name is brian brian brian, and glenn sang that song to me every time i did the vacuuming at the shop and then after a few more santa gigs, glenn left and

paul s came in after vinnies had no boss, but i was still santa claus there and paul s was the official photographer for my santa claus gig, and that made me feel cool

and now, i am not santa anymore, but i really enjoyed the attention.