Archive for the ‘letters’ Category


YES, the rain is quite cleansing and frogs see the day go by, half here, half there sharing light and dark at just the proper time, a nice balance i agree. so maybe i missed your last letter, i don’t know. you are lucky to be there so close to my beloved montana and lakota country. other than that, maybe it is just mostly nonsense.

in any case, i should ask milt to buy me oil futures for october, say around $160 would be fine – i’ll stash away some pennies for another rainy day. but i digress. there was a time when i lived up to myself, up in the north land where it is far more rain than here, so this is pleasantly dry and bright for me; unlike the global class war as it goes on to a new president like the old, already bought and paid for and sold for a nice profit and the shareholders. though i should not rant on into politics or economics as it might lead me to drink – but we should keep these most harmful drugs legal and cheap, lest the cia get involved.

so i will just keep to my shovel and rake and an occasionally good book, plant some seeds here and there and keep my fingers crossed – remembering of course my pocket knife so i may clean the dirt from my nails now and again. but again i digress, oh yes, the rains . . . so dreadful i ought to just find my gun and be done with it all, i mean what is the point of it all anyway? really? here or there or now or later, no difference, just flying through the night like a blind owl or a deaf wolf or that tall crane standing silently, smilingly, relentlessly whispering this old rain song over and over and over – nearly mumbling under it’s breath while stewing in it’s nearly perfect filth or stillness, like the sun and moon dancing that broken record waltz.

but this stranger keeps going on about the lunar man and this alpha female, butting heads and facing opposite directions, never touching – just hurling insults at each other through spacetime. back to back they stab each other and keep singing in new seasons with their bamboo leaf swords, fluttering in the wind like fairy windchimes. that is, until they break and dawn shows her face again as they say hello and goodbye, neither coming nor going – just me here in this dizzy center hurtling through cold space dust. so what?! you say. hmmph. however you wish, i should just keep walking. maybe we’ll run in another time, maybe not.


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