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6:45 am. Just finished breakfast. A friend just got out of the hole( involved in some kind of tobacco smuggling – probably set up). He was from another unit but now he’s in our wing. I have written “about” him in the past. Actually he is the reason I won’t talk with Beasty anymore. Guilty by association. Breakfast talk was about the “evil” of Beasty & his controlling ways. “He’s bored.” “ He needs distractions.” “ It’s a power play.” “ He’s pissed that he gave me the directive to stay away or I’m guilty by association” “& I dumped him”. We tend to invest so much time & energy into what is right or what to do about the simplest thinks because we have no “control”. We attempt to control everything – each other. Remember, I’m in Mexico – free meals, a bed to sleep on. My objective is simple. To be here now. Understand the perimeters of loneliness. To be alone yet full. It’s like when you first ride a bike & everything is cool ‘til you realize it’s working. You’re riding the bike – then you crash. Overthinking. Here guys want to pull you into their drama –their world. That’s real intimate for me. Sometimes too real. Is it because there are no women? the fence? the power that be? I’m working on it. For now my mantra –
“We live as we dream – alone”. Joseph Conrad. The fear that the great hanging over our head, fear. Alone. For whatever reason & I’m sure I’ll babble about it later. But I’m like a pendulum. Swing from one side to the next. (Sidebar: Did you ever see Vincent Price in The Pit & The Pendulem? One of great, I believe, Hammer films? I first saw it when I was 9 in a huge old barn in Catholic summer camp. Scared the shit out of me. After seeing it , me & the rest of the camp walked 2 miles back to our bunkhouse in the pitch black. I also saw Rebel Without A Cause that summer. Amazing.) Either hanging in a group or totally alone. Here both are so easy. I’m learning to shut off my mind. Just like a faucet. I fantasize I can hear the clouds moving. Any way, I told these guys he’s lonely & he’s been locked up too long. One guy said it’s because he’s evil & Christians are always good and never do acts that create violence. I was like. “Right. Heard of the IRA?” “Christians are not the only ones wanting peace” I replied. “Every religion wants peace & harmony.” He didn’t want that – of course “those guys” Point being, relax. Take care of your house.

Have you removed your gutters so you neighbor’s basement isn’t being flooded? Paint your house so property values aren’t dropping? My gift to myself this winter will be Walden. Can’t wait. No pond but I got a wonderful sky. Just lie on my back.

Big John is a drugstore cowboy. Loves downers. Loves chaos. Loves to talk. Nice tats all done by close friends - mostly family friends. Small time criminal finally got caught serving a couple years. His wife (first & only love) died suddenly. Brain aneurism & he flipped out. Loves oxy. Well he lives a few doors down. We’re right across from program 3. (Next step after coming out of the hole). They can only buy basic canteen items – some chips, crackers, stamps & letter writing items. So last night there’s Big down on his knees with a buddy sliding swiss cake rolls over to a guy in program 3. A box goes for 98¢ on canteen. These guys pay 4-5 stamps. An alright profit. If you get caught – could lose canteen & get a month of building confinement. He does it not for profit. He does it to, as he claims “Share the sweet!” Oh, well – something to see.

Saturday I’ll do my exercises. (A routine is mandatory). Shower & hang out. Soon mail. A nap. Perhaps a poem shall visit.

A thank you to James Liddy & Staff @ “The Blue Canary (15)” Published a poem of mine of which I have no recognition writing. I’ll end with it. Blue Canary Press is at
3348 N. Gordon Place, Milwaukee, WI, 53212. Check it out. Good work from solid poets. Thank you.


Sailor

In sail
Nose follows open windows
the whole way home.
Open yr mouth
press against mine
replace blood
with silence
& death
became a metaphor.

I was a sailor
in a world of trees
became woodsman
in a tea cup carnival.
We lead lives
of quiet
desperation
some of us
not so quiet.



Lator Gator.