70608


When I went to Ireland a few weeks back, John asked me to take some of Evan's ashes with me and spread them. I think I found the perfect place to leave them. Evan & I often talked about Irish writers - especially James Joyce. I will always remember that. Outside of St. Patrick's Cathedral there is a little park that has tribute areas to many Irish writers/poets. I thought it was a perfect place for Evan.

62008


New Pics of John

61908

I have not written for a while – why? Well, Kelly & I have been finishing up some chaps. 2 done, 2 on back burner, 2 out there. Been reading, working at hobby & just losing track of time. I know there are a few of you checking for updates & for that I apologize. But as you imagine a mound of sand is more interesting. & I can tell you living in here has & is changing me for the better & simply for what is. Some of us can see a fire & understand. Some of us walked singed- burnt. Any guess where I stand?

Just received a letter from Noah, from Kelly. Most would sit back & savor the moment. I want to go screaming thru the trees. Yes, even at 50 I am grateful, overwhelmed by the love & support of my family/friends.

Reading Tropic of Cancer, (Miller is my captain), Bio of Vivienne Eliot, Balzac’s short stories and a book of H.D.’s cultural poetics. Just finished Henry Louis Gates’ Book of Essays. Thank you Julie R.

Thank you Stacy for “Orizaba: A Voyage with Hart Crane”. A stunning chap.
And thank you Richard Hell for “Psychopts” – his collab with Christopher Wool. Amazing images – a stripped yet vast concrete. The line between words/image so blurred it creates a new. Anew color. Contrast. Proof when 2 artists meet & truly work together Earth’s gravity has to stand up & take notice. What I mean is, it’s a kick ass book & you should/must check it out. Selections will be in Flagrant.

I end with this, I never want to forget. I don’t want to forget where I am. I don’t. I want my life to be John Muir strapped to a Redwood midst of tremendous storm- unblinking.
Yet you, you with words or images or books or thoughts allow me/make me forget I’m in prison. Image that. Image that.

Later.

61708

John is also doing some work with leather.
Here is Justin & Reed showing off some more of JT's work:

61708



I recently ran into an old friend of John & mine. He commented to me that it is so nice how I keep JT up to date with everyone and with everything that is going on out here. I replied to him - He's my friend. How could I not?

I do get rewarded. The following are pics of some ceramic work JT did for me and another friend of ours. The 3 small ones are mine.

61008

Transatlantic

called home together
so they went

one charged – the other raced

Miller-Guinness-Jameson

Religion
Gaols

Ghosts -Patrick -Temples

Blarney

Revolution
Resolution

the girl now knew it was time for her & the father to part

no need to look back in anger

so hold your head up woman
because the sadness swims in the river Liffey
and was washed away
when you put your soul in that water and where baptized
again.

42908

From the introduction to a book of Irish short stories - intro written by Anthony Burgess


"One of [Freud's] followers split up human psychology into two categories - Irish and non-Irish. The Irish, like the Neopolitans, are not sure what truth is, and they have a system of logic which defies logic. They have something in common with Chekhov's Russians, and it is no accident that many of the stories here will seem Chekhovian. I was taking a bath in a Leningrad hotel when the floor concierge yelled that she had a cable for me. 'Put it under the door,' I cried. 'I can't,' she shouted. 'It's on a tray.' There is a deep logic, or epistemology, there which is far from absurd. The Irish and the Russians have one way of looking at entities (the entity in this instance was a cable-on-a-tray) and the rest of the world another."

There is a sense that Freud had, too, that the Irish, when in psychic trouble, go to poetry, go to storytelling, go to escapism - they have no interest in picking apart their own brains.

april 24


my depression 2:00 am
the saturday night session



broken
am
I


rootbeer & vodka’s
victim impact statements break
deadlock

damages
intended collateral


what had the rage to
stomp
my spirit to death?


then something a little odd happened –
karma report said I was alive during the ministry of JC

do I think I am who they say I am

do sins of the father have to impact the suns?



made it home every sunday morning to drag all to church
I went last night
how do I know?
I didn’t see you whoring around last night but I know you were



nails too long hair too short belly too big laugh too loud never satisfied
whore still living with that spick


I bought flowers for myself for the first time in months
campanula pink

any where I am not is best

being called home with the father by the Father is most interesting
&
unexpected
who is forgiving who?
Why?
& for how long?

twelve years with no parents trying to be a parent = no children

50 years of marriage out dates grandsons

lessons of what not to do are learned so pay no attention to that
mick in the corner

you can always tell how drunk I am by my bangs


first there was a girl,
then there was no girl
and then she left



look at me all clean & boring

32908

REM, Rolling Stones, Armory Show, all on This Morning on CBS. Wonderful. Great letters this past week from my younger brother, Richard H. Joel, Hauser. Earlier Lopez, Julie R. & yesterday a perfect visit from Kelly. Not perfect for her. She wasn’t feeling great – that I felt bad for but her courage, humor, loyalty & vision – that’s what’s gret. Kelly is a gift. I & those who know her are grateful!

Kelly & I are finishing up a few of my chap books. Barren is good to go. Contact her for 1.

My brothers & a few friends can’t always read my handwriting. They say slow down. I try but I can’t. I’m running out of this prison as fast as I can. Your letters, poems, books, thoughts, are the flames that inspire & propel.

Michael, Peter & Mike were/are amazing men, artists. What a great preview of what’s to come: A new REM album – hurray!

Rolling Stones looked great & I’ll see Martin’s movie when I get out. The Armory Show – what fun. Switched channels & the Round Table on ABC This Week called for an end to corporate welfare – Yes! Yes! Yes!

Later


If you would like to recieve a copy of Barren please contact Kelly either by leaving a comment for the blog or email me at sisterweezer@yahoo.com.

Barren is free but I am asking for $5 for postage and handling.

Thanks!

Kelly

32108

Spring & a longer day. Not much compels me to write for this blog. I’ve tried to give you all a picture/vision of this here – some might register. Some not really important. I live with the same “kind” of people that you do – some down for a minute. Institutionalized. Some still same. It’s what it is. Lots of snitches. Guys who can’t be alone. That need to be a part of something. Well something of nothing is still nothing. So snitching to gain acceptance/some power is oh so fucked. Cowards. No way around it, cowards. Do your time, I’ll do mine. This is my conversation. These my friends. No need to be jealous just don’t be a freak. Be your own man/woman. Live your life. Don’t hide behind the cops. Another man’s name. Come out of the shadows. If it comes from your mouth. Actions. Be responsible. Be accountable. Stand for something. No need for another Benedict Arnold. Without question I broke the law. Without question I take responsibility. My questions, concerns, have always been about where are we going. As a country – a society- a people. There’s so little difference between what’s in here – out there. Look at the Democrats. What the fuck. No complaint. Just an observation. Move forward. Address the needs at hand. The more we tear our brothers/sisters down – the harder it is to stand. & keep in mind the ones with no knowledge, idea of vertical movements. Of any balls – guts. Dignity.

3908

Sunday brings a quiet most humbled thru. I would compare prison to a desert but that would be fraud. The sun, the life, the movement of the desert is far from this truth. Prison is sucked out from. Vapid desolate beige flat white bread toast. Sure it’s what you make of it but that point of departure is so flat. So flat it’s beyond comparison. But you build from & it will collapse. Yes, it will collapse & it can crush. So you move as flame. You dig fro color, humor, humanity, humility & as your fingers get tired you use your feet, your mouth, your ears. This morning, on Sunday Morning Gustave Klimt. Way too short of visual but what there was I ate. I sucked. I licked the tv screen as one might love a beer. Such wonderful paintings. Such a fantastic inhale. Now as I write, 3 Tenors on PBS. I just survived “Nessun Dorma”. Anything I write will not do justice to. Not just Pavarotti, but Pavarotti in here. It was/is so delirious my back against the wall sound all the way up. I was launched into space. “Ground control to Major Tom” & like a naughty Dutch boy I pulled my finger from the dike. I refuse to die in here. Chop off my roots, deny sunlight, water. I will grow & thrive from that I may attach to. Not parasitical rather practical. Received a great letter from real friend. He’s doing a collab with one of my favorite artists. Sent me example of. I’ve read that letter 5-6 times? He felt bad hadn’t written for a while. Fuck that! God I needed that letter. Found my sea legs. Great packets from Kelly. Some money from my brother. I think these guys are singing Edith Piaf. It’s in Italian. She’s French & I’m mad. Delirious & so happy. Not only not losing oneself, it’s bringing something back.
Later

or minus you

you can’t see it but he really was a good man
first kind word heard all day
said he’d pray for us and that i loved him
punished us all so we’d feel his loss
had an audience
thought it was tv but this was a new twist
you, who always come back, be here for
a personal triumph



me birthday

drank with james’s son
& now cry
overwhelmed by
loss
love
legacy
memory.

threw out all the old
never to be revisited
life times are piling up
trying to kill what is
trying to kill.

biggest mistake was making a friend
who writes law and order
now it is just contrived.

proven right but by letting
all come out
hurts more.


3-1-08 wave length

until today didn’t realize it spelled out

CO-EXIST

not embarrassed because
i was with you and
you said
me too

3308

In less than ½ breath. Consider. Watch a feather drop.snow flake. A kiss to dry. Word to say. Hello. Goodbye. All fleeting. All so fast. Super fast. Perspective. Yesterday I did nothing but within that nothing was everything & then the next thing, today soon tomorrow. I wish those words never existed. Created. I’m sure main reason was man’s attempt at control of the universe. So if that big light goes up & then down & up again, what does that signify? Mean. Hmmm. Movement of light suddenly means time & time means money right? Hmmm. I got nothing but time & so little money it’s silly. I get paid but $.12 an hour. Obviously labor unions do not have a voice in prison. Any way, this was about fleeting nature of time. & oh boy am I lost. I still think like Jefferson. That we have to water the tree of liberty unlike the powers that be, who use it for a place to take a leak. It’s only when I think of the “Patriot Act” that I remember/realize that Tom is so dead. So very very dead & without that blood the old tree is next. It’s those milestones that prove that time does move forward. One day you give birth, next you two are walking down the street. Amazing. See. Because I got nothing but time & believe me that silence or attempt at, stirs up this dude’s noggin. Thoughts fly like bats – crows in cornfield.

3208

A new day. A new month. Though still stuck within ice, snow and now rain, spring is on horizon. A few notes, check out Eugene Kane’s Milwaukee Journal column from today. He is so right, not only thru MSDF but quite a bit of this prison system. Start looking around count 100 people – 1 in. Though it doesn’t sound high, it is. Kane’s column goes into a part of what it’s all about. http://www.jsonline.com/story/index.aspx?id=723841
I think it was Thursday on Ellen. She told of a heart breaking story of Larry, openly gay high school student who sent a valentine to Brandon, who later killed Larry. I don’t think I need to go on. A thank you to Ellen for letting us know. We need to realize & take control of our hatred. Of our judgements. Our actions. Please keep Larry in your hearts, prayers & please allow Brandon in. These are our children. Think.

My celly told me I have balls. Walk with confidence. I thanked him. I thank the universe for this experience. Just Thursday when I broke down he was so cool & now today. A part of it he said was how I’m so up front with my crime. With my life. It’s a two way street. Rick’s a great guy.

Great seeing Wilco on SNL. Dylan on PBS. Kelly is finishing up Barren & I’ll be giving her something new in the next week. Don’t you love her poems? You know you don’t need to be so silent. Warm morning, soon freezing rain. Out walking with no socks. Felt so free.

No work out today – so sore, tired. Sunday’s are a day of just being. The week isn’t but just nothing. That something of nothing. Life on a raft floating. A long shower. Perfect cup of coffee watching the snow. Following the wind. We walk literally in circles here. Fascinating. No need to worry. This personal trip.

Later.

22208

Folsom Prison covered by D.O.A. playing right now on radio. Earlier, Radiohead, Dick Dale & some amazing techno. Big time flashbacks. Evan, Noah, taking turns on the turntables. Avenging disco Godfather even further. Labor the Rave in Milwaukee. Tons & tons of late late night eves hauling out crates & crates of records. The smell, sweat. The beautiful mornings crawling home. All for sake of the music. Their drive. Their vision. We as family addicted. Between Reed’s letter today & the music I was/am geeked. My buddy at dinner called me speed freak. Great letter Reed. Solid, funny & oh, so sad. Not “Oh God life sucks” but so wild & full I got to bite a tree. Terrific letter. Kelly – thanks for the great news and then cool ass poem. Keep it up. Check out Avoided’s My Space page, Reed’s band www.myspace.com/avoided & listen to W.R.S.T. Radio. It’s streaming on the web - http://www.uwosh.edu/wrst/
A terrific radio station. My life raft.

Now for some serious shit. Gary Gilmore. Almost finished with The Executioner’s Song. Heavy in more ways than one. A few more books this size in a pillow case is great for curls. Anyway, “You could easily do away with a lot of jails. They’re shit. They breed. They don’t deter crime. Right now I’m a prisoner of my body. I’m trapped in myself. Worse than jail!”

So many amazing moments – thoughts-statements in this book. Gilmore killed 2 men, after he robbed them, point blank in the head. In & out since a teenager. He was cold. So you think. A vastly intelligent man sentenced to death. He chose firing squad in Utah. Strange huh? Mormon Land. Bring your 10 wives & have a cook out. Which came first the Christian or the lion? Eye for Eye. Love this country. Anyway, a great point is that prison is a complete socialist way of life. Told when to go to bed. What to wear. Eat. When to get up. Total control. Right now Dick Dale (radio). Fuckin amazing. Sitting on my bunk cross legged, books open all over my, my radio blasting in my ear. Thinking of Gary & my/our/his brothers & the fuckin fuckin hard soulful guitar just banging, singing away reminding me that, yeah, yeah – everything is going to be alright. There’s nothing like a great song. Great kiss. Painting. Empty star filled night. Rebel Without A Cause on in a few minutes. Some Black Flag coming up. So prison is basically socialist. Everything in theory is equal. Sometimes you get shorted but the next day you get a huge piece of cake.
So that’s a huge crash when you get out. Sad but true. Who reminds us when to piss? amongst other things.

“Things that are harsh and unkind are here on Earth and they’re temporary. They don’t last. This all passes. That is my summation of my ideas and I might be all wet.”
-Gary Gilmore
Not wet, me thinks. Truer than rain.

“Let’s do it” besides some Latin, Gary’s last words.
“Don’t mourn, boys. Organize” Joe Hill’s last words.

Utah & her executions. This country & her lies.
Eye for an eye.
Why do we ever bring children into this world?
I’m sure we do because of our selfish nature. Our sand fly mentality. Our vision lost in the romanticism. Ruby glasses & the fight for our right to party!

Later. I’m off to see the lizard. The wonderful lizard of OZ.

This Sunday, March 9th at 3:00 pm on WRST Radio they will be playing one of the most amazing bands of all time - Velvet Underground! So keep in mind daylight savings time & listen.
Our/the circle is as large as we choose. Pull that string or release that tension. We are the circle and like the moon & sun that connects now, finally music! I will request a song for all you - you also if you choose, my friends!

http://www.uwosh.edu/wrst/

Later.