#12 I meant to play some classical music, this morning: some Beethoven, maybe, Mozart, or Martha Argerich...but, instead, I wound up on Grooveshark with The Electric Light Orchestra. Well, orchestra would seem to imply some sort of classicism, would it not?

It's a new effin' day, and I am happy as hell to be alive. What a great thing this gift of life is, is it not?

The Trash Men have just arrived. The turtles, and cats, have been fed. I need to take the dogs out, and feed them, and finish writing this column.

The capital w on my keyboard only works when I hit caps lock. I never realized how much I use a capital W.

I hope that you enjoy your day.

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How can you scream about principles when you have no principles?

You know I'm a dreamer...I wish that I could play piano. my dog, Morrison, and I, just went and applied for a job. The guy who I talked to said that I, "Looked like a bum." And then he said that it was "ok,"that everybody who worked at That Restaurant looked like a bum, but that they were all too young for me to work with them." Dejected, Mo, and I walked home through a day that looked like it might burst into rain to record some Poems. I can't forget that I'm not a bum, I'm a Poet.

I'm really hungry, but I don't want to fix anything; so I am thinking about going to The McDonald's that is just down the street, and getting some "food" that is really bad for me, and the planet. I am thinking of this because I am stupid.


I seek guilt out. I must have guilt with me.

Which is worse: Pervert stalker serial killer on one hand, or Marc Zuckergerber on the other!

Mick Jaggar just apologized to a 1978 audience in Huston, on this You Tube concert video,
that I am watching, of The Stones, for the band being, "sluggish." Jaggar said, "We were up all night fucking."

One of The Bee Gees is in bad shape. And so is the guitar player in Black Sabbath.


"Seventy percent of burgers in the United States contained pink slime, also known as ammoniated boneless lean beef trimmings," was the message brought to me by Danielle Strickland in an IM.

I was too scared to read further; I knew that the satanic owners of the the purple arches would
stoop to no low to make a buck but, I lied and told Danielle, that "I like ammoniated boneless lean beef trimmings." I was now waiting for her reply.

I keep trying to get to the gym, but things like my mind get in the way.
And sometimes it is too wet out, or cold, to go; so I won't look like
Lance Armstrong, or a young Arnold any time soon. I've been getting
this little nudge of pain from what I think is my liver. May God not
going to be infecting my liver when I haven't had a drink in just three
weeks short of twenty years. I've seen it happen before, though.

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‎"We need to make books cool again. If you go home with somebody, and they don't have books, don't fuck them."--John Waters

My mostly psychotic black cat, Jaggar, lets me know when the large red hard plastic bowl that holds water for the animals, in my home,is empty by pushing it across the kitchen floor. The sound is much like what would occur if you dragged your teeth across a chalkboard, and it is that sound that woke me up this morning; a weird, and horrific, alarm clock, indeed. So here I am, in front of the computer monitor, once again, seeing what, if any poems, are in me. The dogs need to go outside. The dogs need to be fed, but I want to see if I can get one more poem out of me before I start my daily chores.

Morisson, Dylan and I, just went for a looooooong walk.

I was planning on doing a short walk with the dogs, and then heading to the gym to do a swim, and some treadmill work, but then I realized that the gym is closed on Fridays. (Bummer. And then someone pointed out that it was Thursday, so I wound up at the gym doing my thing.

We walked up a steep hill in the course of our walk, and my heart rate went up, so I sought out other hills in the hood on the walk. The dogs walked very well; we mainly stayed in the road, so that they could not find things at every turn to sniff, and pee on.

At the beginning of the walk, the sky was overcast, and by the end of the walk it was pouring rain. I took the rain in stride, and it didn't seem to bother the dogs at all. I decided, on the walk, that this is the perfect time to wash both dogs, while they are already wet, and that is what I am off to do.

Keep inside, your romantic designs.
They'll ruin a friendship every time.

Jaggar, is flipping out. It is the time of evening when I throw him some Kitty Treats. I gave him the last ones that I had, yesterday, and forget to buy more today. I'm sure that he will live through the night, though, and I will buy him some more tomorrow.
I went to Great Clips, on Ponce, for my usual once every 2 or 3
month beard trim that Joan loves so much, and the Lady that came
up to the counter said that she wouldn't trim me up. She said that
they didn't do that.

I said that I had been coming here for a long time, and getting
it done, and she said, "Wrong."

She was a hefty gal, with a lot of dead hair on her head, and she
looked like she was in the mood for an argument. I wasn't, so I
took my scraggy self back to Joan, and the dogs, to contemplate
whet had just happened.

If you want to try to get a shave at Great Clips, I would call
first, and see who is working: 404 685 9597

Cyndi Craven: That sucks! We might need to go Occupy Great Clips.


I had the weirdest dream last night about an old friend. My daughter, in the dream, (not Scout),was in love with my friend. She was much younger than him. I felt very uncomfortable about the situation, but didn't know how to remedy it. Mostly, I am so very glad that my dreams don't come true.

Yesterday, the day after my leg workout, I was amazed, and disappointed, that my legs weren't sore. I did not work out hard enough, I told myself, and will have to work out harder next time. This morning, though, my legs are sore; very sore, which means that I did do a good leg workout after all.

I am boiling rice, as I, now, boil rice every day, because each dog, now, gets a half a cup of rice with his meal. I also bought a lamb rice bag of dog food(Nature's Recipe), with no additives, and am switching my babies over to this from Pedigree, which is $14 a bag cheaper, but I think that my dogs may be scratching themselves all the time because of the shitty food that I have been feeding them.

It is nasty outside: very cold, and quite wet; I just let Henry,
the great Great Dane, out to do his thing, and he did his thing,
and came right back inside...very unlike him; he usually likes to
wander around a bit before he comes back in.

Life is good in the slow lane. I am blessed, and thankful to be alive.

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Could it be Love?

She writes, and she paints.
I sniff glue, and rob banks.

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Untitled

You were dreaming
on the carpet
where you'd puked;
passed out in your own
saliva, vomit, blood
and hope.
You never quit believing
the things that you
now believe sober.

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Take Almost Everything

Take my money.
Take my honey.
Take my house,
Take my children,
but just don't take my dog, away,
I've come to depend on him
in so many ways.

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The Past(Revisited Again).

I lost my money.
I lost my mind.
I puked all over myself
in a jail cell.

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Am I supposed to care about The Masons?

Am I supposed to care about The Masons?
Am I supposed to care about Marilyn Monroe?
Am I supposed to care about John Lennon,
the beatniks, the scumbags running the show?
Who am I supposed to care about? Me? You?
The kids. The dogs. The cats The turtles.

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And God will just continue to ignore me


I need a pill for this.
I need a pill for that.
When I get to Hell
the devil is going to
ask for my prescription.

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Peace and Love,
Mikel K