Jim Trainer posted: " If you want war then we better start fighting...—Tom VekTemperatures of 32 degrees or less can cause death in as little as 15 to 45 minutes.Classified US military documents released by WikiLeaks in October 2010, record Iraqi and Coalition military de" Going for the Throat
If you want war then we better start fighting... —Tom Vek
Temperatures of 32 degrees or less can cause death in as little as 15 to 45 minutes. Classified US military documents released by WikiLeaks in October 2010, record Iraqi and Coalition military deaths between January 2004 and December 2009 at 109,032. —Wikipedia The latest death toll stands at 22, 509 Palestinians and about 1139 people killed in Israel since October 7. —Al Jazeera
Let the train blow the whistle when I go... —Johnny Cash
How's your epoch? I trust by now you know my authority when I tell you it's time. The world isn't ending, it's ended already. Hank comes bowling down the stairs and stops mid-floor to groom his bald black leg. The sun hasn't risen as much as glommed onto a grey January sky. It's winter in America as I get up for another cup of joe. She writes "There's either a misperception or you're crossing the creative line of nonfiction." Everybody's a critic. I dip the ash from my cigarette into a brass and pear-shaped pewter. The night is full of ghosts, too, but thankfully when I wake at dawn these voices aren't coming from the past. My father's ashes, fully integrated into the loamy brown of Delaware curl from the frost in blades of grass, and pick up some in the tuft of a mealy and feral hare. Which is to say everything is not ok but that's ok.
You've made your promises. Took your stock. Any better than me you didn't wake up to a naked man on a cocaine bender in your kitchen this New Year's. Or suffer any kind of cheap mark neé pagan-appropriated capitalist holiday. You held 'em close, or as close as you could, or you stayed in bed all morning, scrolling TikTok drinking water and the best coffee in Kyle. Your boy was on the air yesterday after flying over Philly on Christmas day. I've been alone too long and now I'm starting to like it. I'm non-plussed about War and hegemony which is the most selfish thing you'll read in 2024 so far. I can't complain but I will. I do know that whatever we're looking for, and anything we need, can only be addressed when we ask: how can I serve?
Enough on the dawn and poetry (as if). The truth is poetry envelopes me. Makes my sex and thirsty. Peels my ears and burns the husk of living to a molten cure. What I'm trying to say is what I am saying. What you are trying to do is what you are doing. Shut-the-fuck up once in a while, or tell them to, and listen. You'll hear time grinding on its pestle, bastards gorging on the blood of working folk and roiling in wealth, cripples marking time block-by-block, the slamming car door of the police cruiser of your heart, two-thousand 24 years in the flue, democracy snapping on a lede and lance of fascism, Mama Greenberg cursing and Hank the tom snoring loud, Cohen at the altar and ringing that bell and the hold music for your own life but hang up the phone. Disconnect. 2023 is gone. Nothing is forever and neither is eternity. You've got one life to lead, that's it. It's excruciatingly hard but everything else is gravy. The dead would be gone a long time and anyway would've died for nothing if you don't do it, now without worry or tab of recompense. Take a moment. We'll wait for you but when the train rolls in we're climbing aboard.
The dead gave it to us but it ain't no thing. Let us stop and listen, listen sometime as we're working, working, and listen. And the dead will whisper to us this is love...
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