I like a poem because it usually just happens, and it’s usually bad..but it happens at any rate. So that’s good at least. And it’s all based on the five senses, usually, –tastes, or smells! et cetera..sounds!! and then something jumps out that begs to tell its story; and it’s usually a stupid tale, anyway, but it happened so it’s factual in its nature, and then next you can begin to interweave the, like, spiritual into it, like, gossamer streams, literally pouring forth! the stuff that is bouncing around in there, like..for no good reason (usually); and that’s cool, –Hey! it’s just a poem. So lighten up! alright?? So last night, after ‘lights-out’ I’m laying there still awake from too much coffee and still trying to think of something that will make me go to sleep after having actual jobs later in the afternoon earlier that day adapting stoves to propane for semi-private use..and it’s a rental so it has to be safe; and propane burns real hot, much hotter than natural gas, because it’s denser! of a gas so when I picked up the burner-top thing that lays there on the top (of the burner) after testing one that was giving problems – like why the thing won’t light like it’s supposed to when the spark-igniter’s going “Klik! Klik! Klik!” and gas’s going “Hiss! Hiss! Hiss!” – I burned my thumb and finger pretty good! and dropped that cap-thing on the stove-top fast, “Klack!” (the sound it made..because, you know, propane). Anyway, I’m laying there in darkness and I’m thinking and it’s really,REALLY! dark, and there’s almost, like, these forms in it, moving ever so slowly; so I opened my eyes to see and there’s almost entirely no difference, actually. So then I went, “Huh!” and closed ’em again, my eyes, well, one of them doesn’t really count, in the plural ‘sense’ because that time when a shotgun pellet entered into it right in the center, DEAD CENTER of my retina, thuh re-ti-na, because of my friend Tom he pulled the trigger, just when I looked and I really got ‘triggered’ when that took out almost all of what it sees, thee eye, and which later..become 100-percent blind, or totally blind you might say years after, so if it’s open, or it’s shut, now, it don’t matter. It ain’t seeing nothing (PERIOD) and that, I guess it is an open and shut case..like one of Perry Mason’s. But lately, it’s starting to bother me more and more, progressively, –not that I’m a ‘progressive’ or anything remotely resembling that ideology..also called liberalism, socialism, or any other kind of ‘ism’. But, so I’m laying there just trying to get into dreaming some conservative, non-communist dreams to get ‘rested up’ for tomorrow ’cause we have to go to a wedding, a REAL wedding, with two actual biological persons..so I start thinking about a motorcycle, and why my wife won’t let me have another one, for some sh*tty reason or other; and that’s actually it..it ain’t ever gonna happen! unless –? but that’s too much mental work to think about and I’m never getting to sleep that way dwelling on all of that, like, like..yeah! “Goin’ down that long, lonesome hi-igh-way..gonna, live life my way!” yeah, that’s a nice song and sung sweetly, too, by Mister Parks! that might work..like a lullaby, even, lull me ta-sleep on a Harley Sportster; and perchance dream, like Ronald Reagan, –like the real Ronald Reagan said, “The 8 scariest words in the English language are: We’re from the government, we’re here to help!” Yeah. My wife bought me that on a shirt..at a yardsale, Reagan’s immortal words. Now I’m never going to get any sleep..am I. So I guess I better move on (dot-org) from Michael – Then Came Bronson – Parks and park my ass under some trees in the shade, softly moaning and swaying with a breeze, yeah, trees, breeze, that’ll work! next to the ocean up the coast, and a little steamer steaming along on the horizon under some nice puffy, white clouds, yeah, that’s the most! now we’re getting somewhere, treeze, bree’s, long, lonesome, uh, road! toad, toad-lit road..getting towed. Whatever. Darkness, now, is starting to yield herself to pleasanter thoughts..not about Iran-Contra or any of that other propaganda-B-s stuff, like, UNELECTABLE! GRABS PUSSY!! what a bunch of pussy’s these feckless marxists are..Pussy-gate,PUSSYGATE! in the headlines all day long, “What’s new? Pussy-gate! Whoah! oh, who-ah-who-ah!” Whoah, stop. Okay that’s not working to get me any sleep, hmm, –“Zz-zzz..” Who said that?? Oh, the wife. Well, at least the politic’s is getting some, someone some sleep..actually. ZZ-zzz..Zzz, –Ah-Ah-Ahh..CHOO!! God bless you! (#ME TOO)