Wednesday, February 25, 2009


I’m not the only one, nor should I be, to call Reed “my brother”. Our brother. We turn natural wonders of the world “waterfalls”. Crazy beautiful mountains – geysers, landmarks, huge national parks. Reed as a man was as big as any mountain. As deep as any river. With a soul as bright, if not brighter, than the northern star. It’s an understatement to say Reed will be missed. We will stumble & we will collapse. Reed was/is a profound friend. The true family of man. Any good that I contain within, I give freely to Tom & Candy, Reed’s parents. His brother Geoff. To Justin, Ben & Ben, Bryan, Noah, Sara, Michelle, Joe, Derek, Jack, Danimal, Johnny, Fish – my heart goes out to all of you. Miggs & so many otheres.

Reed, my brother, please provide some guidance. Some understanding. Your music like your laughter – oh so divine. My God man, I love you so much & my heart is so gone.
All my love.

For the past 2+ years I’ve shared a few moments of music. The masters of song lyrics – the vast universe of. & I have a check list & believe it or not, I’ve heard some beauties from E.Smith to P.Furs – Richard Hell, Voidoids, Heartbreakers, Misfits, Social D, Replacements, Husker Du – just amazing. Just now Gram Parsons live with Emmy Lou Harris (1973) – Love Hurts. My God – such purity of note. Clarity of soul. I get scared but that fire is so good. So blessed. I just held the radio. Hugged, rocked & sobbed. This place does clarify your priorities. Now to hear Townes Van Zandt. Wow.

No the banjo isn’t my favorite favorite. It’s just great. I dig but I get the perfection of the guitar. Dave’s just worried I don’t shower a lot, don’t wear socks & now the banjo. I’m not denying the simplicity but I’m not that country.

& when I mentioned Tim, James, Julie & Noah getting brutalized – they were robbed while fishing down by the reservoir.


Do you dream of what you know – understand? Or like the bottom of depth of ocean where impossible for man to breathe without assistance? Every time I pierce my skin I stop & gaze as red joins this world. Slipping down the whole concept/reality of just disorientates me. Mid-stride I glide thru the dam. But blood A letter A distinguished word & I’m back to who am I? Who are you? What are we? This wonderful chaos blankets all my thoughts.

Listening to Waylon Jennings. His voice narcotic to me. I could just climb up his verse. So so perfect. The other night on Punk N Pie (WRST) heard Misfits, Replacements, Social D. In my mind you could hear a pin drop. That’s what my dreams are made of. Sometimes spiders. Sometimes your lips. I do get pissed. Yesterday - why do I write this blog? Never a comment or reference to. I feel as if you’re watching me in the shower. At least hand me the soap. But a new song comes on & I think “no bother”. This is my way of saying I’m still on the plain & here’s some ramble.

Thank you to Stacy for 2 great books & Kelly for updating and running errands. Just keep well. I miss you all so much. No this not a dream. Our dream begins face to face. Nose to nose. Shared breath. A sneeze.

It’s like 18 below out right now. No real movement. No walking. I have to remind my legs we’re lazy today. Still the itch to move. Nice letters from brother Paul & Reed. Actually great. Paul says Dad is hanging in there. Wants to see the Spring/Summer after this cold, cold winter. & Reed & Noah starting a band.

20 some years ago Colette, Evan (4 years old at the time) & I ran into Brian Ritchie (Violent Femmes) @ Sweet Doomed Angel – an amazing shop on the Eastside of Milwaukee. Evan was Evan – very direct. Actually politically aware and very anti-establishment so Brian & the owners of the shop were like “Oh, he’ll become a banker some day”. Between getting pissed & laughter we were like “no way” Yeah, I hate that belief you fight everything your parents dig. Rebellion for the sake of. Evan & Noah whether born or raised are poets. Without question. What dictates – nature or nurture? Who cares? My sons, our sons, are fantastic & now a new little beast. I sit back here looking out on some highway. Watch cons come & go. “Society”. I can meander in my
thoughts justify. Sadness hovers cause I’m so far from my sons/loved ones. But we’re here. It’s what we do with it. That’s what matters. Even in here. We’re living, sure existence, but I’ve always pushed it. Suck the life right out of life. Delicious. Sit back & listen.

Got rid of my killer celly. Got an alright quiet guy a few years older then me. Just go with the flow. Water is breath & breath movement.

Reading a book on gay vampires & just got Thurston Moore & Bryan Coley’s book – No Wave. Very nice. If you don’t remind yourself so much becomes lost. I can’t always hear the music but with these pics I remember the dance & soon enough the smell sounds hot. Check it out.


Tuesday, February 17, 2009



lie this cross
yr chest


you, one
life’s mysteries

never solve




Kiki said

an edge”

now, how I see
yr shadow

robust thunder


prepare for

tongue beneath teeth

logic circumstantial

yr music
a miracle
across this/my

no need for magic
within this wind



care or
not to

not landscape
never sea



I wait


need to find
within this fence

answer these needs:

shoulder to bend
neck to soothe
fire to plan
love to instigate

too much cabbage
over abundance
of weeds

lie divine
my blood yrs

need to find
some bird

when black became grey
drug light
comrade moon
man shutters

purpose revolution
revolution born
of love
a better

when black greys
I stand upon the shoulders

I knew you back when


depend on to
that we can’t

yr voice, always

now memory must

we use grass to landscape
once, huts
if no leaves then to wipe

why does it be
goes to sleep

remain sleep remains
sleep remain sleep

good friend

Wednesday, February 11, 2009


Reed Alan Chadbourne Thieme

Thieme, Reed Alan Chadbourne Age 28, died in his sleep on February 5, 2009. He had a big heart, a bellowing voice, a booming laugh, a bear-like hug, and a will to live the blues. Reed was born September 8, 1980, in East Troy, where he attended Good Shepherd Elementary and East Troy Middle and High Schools. He graduated from the Southern Lakes Alternative School on May 28, 1998. In East Troy, his performances evolved into the band Fulvous Low with Erin Malcolm and Ian Watson. When Reed moved to Milwaukee to major in film studies at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee, he founded the punk band Avoided with Justin Remhof and Ben Blask. He subsequently worked construction jobs and devoted his considerable energy to performing and touring with Avoided. Reed was indifferent to status and fashion, colorblind, intense, congenial, and a performer since childhood. He will be sorely missed by his parents, Tom and Candy Thieme of East Troy; his brother Geoff (Stacey) and niece Kailey of Milwaukee; maternal grandmother and paternal grandparents; and numerous aunts, uncles, and cousins who loved him dearly. A memorial service will be held at Good Shepherd Lutheran Church, 1936 Emery Street, East Troy, at 3:00 PM, Friday, February 13. Visitation with the family will begin at 2:00 PM. You were the best, Dude. Rest and be at peace. BRETT FUNERAL HOME (414) 342-0692

Monday, February 2, 2009

to live outside the law you must be honest *

dust buddy
with teeth
& me
without broom

“the state uses any hammer
to pound one’s peg
into their hole”
strums Kafka

sit in dark
snow isolates
must claim fear
I have forgotten yr voice