and the ancient empty street's too dead for dreaming...

so got a few extra hours in town. leaving possibly on friday morning, maybe tomorrow afternoon.

last night was fun. i missed the gals. and midnight in the city is oddly peaceful--unless you're getting stabbed to death somewhere. we did dinner and coffee but it wasn't enough. as soon as i get my ass down here for good i'm gonna gather everyone around again. i miss people much more than i think i would. oh and there was the whole coffee fortune telling things. wolves are one repeating theme lately i asked my friend--she said it's either a big change. or that it symbolizes some sort of a proud loneliness or whatever. which--again--oddly (a lot of things are in this city i call home) is flattering in it's own way. you know the deal-- the dragon says "thou shalt" and i come around hopefully saying "i will." or maybe not. dunno.

bought myself another pair dylan glasses--been shopping all day. feet hurts head hurts still home is home. you get an--guess what?--odd feeling at home.

anyways--i came along this today and thought it was..you know..the fallen angel type:

food for something

here's something that made the curves of my brain tingle a bit.

"ice cold are the innermost wells of the spirit, a refreshment to hot hands and handlers."

huh. i kinda always thought of it the other way around.

brown rice, sea weed and a dirty hotdog

lovers, i'm back in town--shortly.

i'll be having dinner with a few friends tomorrow night then sail away from the paradise city--again. i'll let you know how it goes if i can.

in the meantime, me zimmerman and nietzsche have made quite a group.

miss me.

...

yes, the river perfectly knows.

summer's almost gone

na-ah, not really.

now i see it was actually pretty suitable that i left writing for a while following jimmy's anniversary, but it wasn't intentional or anything. i went out of town and no connection causes no sharing. anyways, i'm back for a brief day--i'll be leaving tomorow afternoon.

until then--i read some, thought some and listened to some. hopefully, we'll do even more of that for the next few weeks.

there's that dusty smell of heat in town--as it always is in the summer.

miss me.

july 3rd...

"All goes onward and outward, nothing collapses,
And to die is different from what any one supposed, and luckier."

Walt Whitman

july...

is such sad business.


"The face in the mirror won't stop
The girl in the window won't drop
A feast of friends
"Alive!" she cried
Waitin' for me
Outside!"

july...

...

Do you know how pale & wanton thrillful
Comes death on a stranger hour
Unannounced, unplanned for

Like a scaring over-friendly guest you’ve
Brought to bed

Death makes angels of us all
& gives us wings
Where we had shoulders
Smooth as raven’s claws

....

jim morrison

july...

As I Look Back


As I look back
over my life
I am struck by post
cards
Ruined Snap shots

faded posters
Of a time, I can't recall



I am Scot, or so
I'm told. Really
The heir of Mystery
Christians

Snake in the Glen

The child of a
Military family...

I rebelled against church
After phases of
Fervor

I curried favor in school
& attack'd the teachers

I was given a
desk in the corner
I was a fool
&
The smartest kid
in class


Walks in D.C. in
Negro streets. The library
& book stores. Orange
brick in warm sun.
The books & poets magic

Then sex gives greater stimulation
Than you've ever known &
all peace & books lose their
charm & you are thrown
back on the eye of vision



History of Rock
coinciding w/ my
adolescence
Came to LA to
Film School
Venice Summer
Drug Visions
Roof top songs
early struggles &
humiliations
Thanks to the girls
who fed me.


Making Records

Elvis had sex-wise
mature voice at 19.

Mine still retains the
nasal whine of a
repressed adolescent
minor squeaks & furies
An interesting singer
at best -a cream
or a sick croon. Nothing
in-between.



Road days


fear of Plane death

And night was what Night
should be
A girl, a bottle, & blessed sleep

I have ploughed
My seed thru the heart
of the nation.
Injected a germ in the psychic blood vein.

Now I embrance the poetry
of business & become - for
a time - a "Prince of Industry"

A natural leader, a poet
a Shaman, w/ the
soul of a clown.

What am I doing
in the Bull Ring
Arena
Every public figure
running for Leader

Spectators at the Tomb
- riot watchers

Fear of Eyes
Assassination

Being drunk is a good disguise.

I drink so I
can talk to assholes.
This includes me.

The horror of business

The Problem of Money
guilt
do I deserve it?

The Meeting
Rid of Managers & agents

After 4 yrs. I'm left w/a
mind like a fuzzy hammer

regret for wasted nights
& wasted years
I pissed it all away
American Music

End w/ fond good-bye
& plans for future
- Not an actor
Writer-filmmaker

Which of my cellves
will be remember'd

Good-bye America
I loved you

Money from home
good luck
stay out of trouble



Jim Morrison, 1966-1971. Wilderness.

july...

...makes me sad.