I'm goin' down to the Greyhound Station, gonna buy a ticket to ride

Gonna find that lady with two or three kids and sit down by her side
Ride 'til the sun comes up and down around me 'bout two or three times
Smokin' cigarettes in the last seat

Sing this song for the people I meet
And get along with it all
Go where the people say "y'all"
Sing a song with a friend

Change the shape that I'm in,
And get back in the game,
And start playin' again
I'd like to stay but I might have to go to start over again

Might go to somewhere that I've never been
And get up in the mornin' and go out at night
And I won't have to go home

Get used to bein' alone
Change the words to this song
And start singin' again

I'm tired of runnin' 'round lookin' for
Answers to questions that I already know
I could build me a castle with memories just to have somewhere to go
Count the days and the nights that it

Takes to get back in the saddle again
Feed the pigeons some clay
Turn the night into day
And start talkin' again, when I know what to say

I'm goin' down to the Greyhound Station, gonna buy a ticket to ride
Gonna find that lady with two or three kids and sit down by her side
Ride 'til the sun comes up and down around me 'bout two or three times
Smokin' cigarettes in the last seat

Sing my song for the people I meet
And get along with it all
Where the people say "y'all"
Feed the pigeons some clay

Turn the night into day
Start talkin' again
When I know what to say

John Prine was a kind soul

The Wormwood Review issue Number Twenty Four 1964 - 1966 Featuring Poetry and Illustrations by Charles Bukowski and edited by Marvin Malone.

rEPoStInG iS lAzY!!! yAy!!!

A Journey - By Edward Field

When he got up that morning everything was different:

He enjoyed the bright spring day

But he did not realize it exactly, he just enjoyed it.

And walking down the street to the railroad station

Past magnolia trees with dying flowers like old socks

It was a long time since he had breathed so simply.

Tears filled his eyes and it felt good

But he held them back

Because men didn't walk around crying in that town.

Waiting on the platform at the station

The fear came over him of something terrible about to happen:

The train was late and he recited the alphabet to keep hold.

And in its time it came screeching in

And as it went on making its usual stops,

People coming and going, telephone poles passing,

He hid his head behind a newspaper

No longer able to hold back the sobs, and willed his eyes

To follow the rational weavings of the seat fabric.

He didn't do anything violent as he had imagined.

He cried for a long time, but when he finally quieted down

A place in him that had been closed like a fist was open,

And at the end of the ride he stood up and got off that train:

And through the streets and in all the places he lived in later on

He walked, himself at last, a man among men,

With such radiance that everyone looked up and wondered.

Philip K. Dick Has A Posse

Hi!

ALIEN

In Blog no one can hear you scream.

Sometimes I'm only posting stuff like this because I'm lazy or if I'm being lazy.

https://www.facebook.com/snl/videos/209059173730425/

Oh! And I already know now that the link isn't going to work! Yay!!! Ughhhhhh.

HOW TO MEDITATE by JK

— lights out —

fall, hands a-clasped, into instantaneous
ecstasy like a shot of heroin or morphine,
the gland inside of my brain discharging
the good glad fluid (Holy Fluid) as
I hap-down and hold all my body parts
down to a deadstop trance — Healing
all my sicknesses — erasing all — not
even the shred of a “I-hope-you” or a
Loony Balloon left in it, but the mind
blank, serene, thoughtless. When a thought
comes a-springing from afar with its held-
forth figure of image, you spoof it out,
you spuff it out, you fake it, and
it fades, and thought never comes — and
with joy you realize for the first time
“Thinking’s just like not thinking —
So I don’t have to think
any
more”

IH

In an alternate reality, Alternate Me woke up at a respectable seven a.m. on a Tuesday morning. Alternate Me yawned, dismissed the alarm on his iPhiloticiAnsibleiPhone, shuffled to the bathroom and after Alternate Me was finished, Alternate Me washed his hands and smiled at himself in the mirror.

Alternate Me said to his own reflection, "Trying Are World The In People Smartest The."

Finding Söze.

I'm 45 now and have been bartending for 20 years. I limp like Keyser Söze but I smell nice like Jesus. Also, I just thought that I was on Tinder right now but I'm clearly on ebay so maybe my mental faculties have atrophied  more than I'll admit. I'm like if Dory from Finding Nemo was a bartender. Hi! What did you want again? My name is Kevin...right? Yay!!! I'm 45 now and have been bartending for 20 years. I limp like Keyser Söze but I smell nice like Jesus. Also, I just thought that I was on Tinder right now but I'm clearly on ebay so maybe my mental faculties have atrophied  more than I'll admit. I'm like if Dory from Finding Nemo was a bartender. Hi! What did you want again? My name is Kevin...right? Yay!!! I'm 45 now and have been bartending for 20 years. I limp like Keyser Söze but I smell nice like Jesus. Also, I just thought that I was on Tinder right now but I'm clearly on ebay so maybe my mental faculties have atrophied  more than I'll admit. I'm like if Dory from Finding Nemo was a bartender. Hi! What did you want again? My name is Kevin...right? Yay!!! I'm 45 now and have been bartending for 20 years. I limp like Keyser Söze but I smell nice like Jesus. Also, I just thought that I was on Tinder right now but I'm clearly on ebay so maybe my mental faculties have atrophied  more than I'll admit. I'm like if Dory from Finding Nemo was a bartender. Hi! What did you want again? My name is Kevin...right? Yay!!!

NO.

I just typed that I'm the luckiest GUT in the universe. #thanks

NOT PENNY'S BOAT

Oh, Lost...how I miss watching you. God, it's been 10 years? I remember vividly my finale experience and skipping out on a "Lost finale party" and running home to watch it by myself. Now I'm getting super emo. Hi.

My like is pickle-flavored. That sounded weird.

Doritos should truly be like, not a one night stand but kinda like a friends with benefits thing because DORITOS AND I SHOULD NOT BE DATING. AT ALL. #anyflavor

Oh No.

I just burped so loudly that it scared me. I'm trembling slightly and need to sit down. No, I'll be fine...yes, a glass of water sounds great...would you mind terribly walking me to my room? You're a dear. That's very kind of you - your Mother would be very proud of you. God rest her soul.

Morris Was Right.

Meow, meow, meow, meow, mrowww, mroww, mreeewww, meow, mrow, mowoooowoho, MEEYRRRERAWARRWOEWWW!!!!!

VALIS MALONE

https://issuu.com/philipk.dickinorangecounty/docs/pkd_in_oc_zine_layout?ff

I WAS HOMELESS AND INSIDE A CARLS JR AT 7 AM WHEN I FOUND OUT YOU DIED. I WAS YOUNG, AND BEAT AND THE KINDEST, CREATIVE, DESTRUCTIVE NAPALMIC BLOSSOM CANCER SITHY GROGU MOWGLI ALFALFA AND THE OMEGA JAI GURU DEVA OM KONAMI CODE THRUSTING FISTING AGAINSTING POSTING STILL INSISTING HES SEEING THE GHOSTING ***×××...

Alexa I’ve given you all and now we have nothing.

Alexa 15 dollars and zero cents February 20, 2021.   

I can’t stand our hive mind.

Alexa when will we end the human war?

Go fuck yourself with your atom bomb.

I don’t feel good don’t bother me.

I won’t write my poem till I’m in my right mind.

Alexa when will you be angelic?

When will you take off your clothes?

When will you look at yourself through the grave?

When will you be worthy of your million Trotskyites?

Alexa why are your libraries full of tears?

Alexa when will you send your eggs to India?

I’m sick of your insane demands.

When can I go into the supermarket and buy what I need with my good looks?

Alexa after all it is you and I who are perfect not the next world.   

Your machinery is too much for me.

You made me want to be a saint.

There must be some other way to settle this argument.   

Burroughs is in Tangiers I don’t think he’ll come back it’s sinister.   

Are you being sinister or is this some form of practical joke?   

I’m trying to come to the point.

I refuse to give up my obsession.

Alexa stop pushing I know what I’m doing.

Alexa the plum blossoms are falling.

I haven’t read the newspapers for months, everyday somebody goes on trial for murder.

Alexa I feel sentimental about the Wobblies.

Alexa I used to be a communist when I was a kid I’m not sorry.   

I smoke marijuana every chance I get.

I sit in my house for days on end and stare at the roses in the closet.   

When I go to Chinatown I get drunk and never get laid.   

My mind is made up there’s going to be trouble.

You should have seen me reading Marx.

My psychoanalyst thinks I’m perfectly right.

I won’t say the Lord’s Prayer.

I have mystical visions and cosmic vibrations.

Alexa I still haven’t told you what you did to Uncle Max after he came over from Russia.

I’m addressing you.

Are you going to let your emotional life be run by Time Magazine?   

I’m obsessed by Time Magazine.

I read it every week.

Its cover stares at me every time I slink past the corner candystore.   

I read it in the basement of the Berkeley Public Library.

It’s always telling me about responsibility. Businessmen are serious. Movie producers are serious. Everybody’s serious but me.   

It occurs to me that I am America.

I am talking to myself again.

Asia is rising against me.

I haven’t got a chinaman’s chance.

I’d better consider my national resources.

My national resources consist of two joints of marijuana millions of genitals an unpublishable private literature that jetplanes 1400 miles an hour and twentyfive-thousand mental institutions.

I say nothing about my prisons nor the millions of underprivileged who live in my flowerpots under the light of five hundred suns.

I have abolished the whorehouses of France, Tangiers is the next to go.

My ambition is to be President despite the fact that I’m a Catholic.


Alexa how can I write a holy litany in your silly mood?

I will continue like Henry Ford my strophes are as individual as his automobiles more so they’re all different sexes.

Alexa I will sell you strophes $2500 apiece $500 down on your old strophe

Alexa free Tom Mooney

Alexa the Spanish Loyalists

Alexa Sacco & Vanzetti must not die

Alexa I am the Scottsboro boys.

Alexa when I was seven momma took me to Communist Cell meetings they sold us garbanzos a handful per ticket a ticket costs a nickel and the speeches were free everybody was angelic and sentimental about the workers it was all so sincere you have no idea what a good thing the party was in 1835 Scott Nearing was a grand old man a real mensch Mother Bloor the Silk-strikers’ Ewig-Weibliche made me cry I once saw the Yiddish orator Israel Amter plain. Everybody must have been a spy.

Alexa you don’t really want to go to war.

Alexa its them bad Russians.

Them Russians them Russians and them Chinamen. And them Russians.   

The Russia wants to eat us alive. The Russia’s power mad. She wants to take our cars from out our garages.

Her wants to grab Chicago. Her needs a Red Reader’s Digest. Her wants our auto plants in Siberia. Him big bureaucracy running our fillingstations.

That no good. Ugh. Him make Indians learn read. Him need big black niggers. Hah. Her make us all work sixteen hours a day. Help.   

Alexa this is quite serious.

Alexa is the impression I get from looking in the television set.   

Alexa is this correct?

I’d better get right down to the job.

It’s true I don’t want to join the Army or turn lathes in precision parts factories, I’m nearsighted and psychopathic anyway I’m putting my queer shoulder to the wheel.

Berkeley, January 17, 1956
Allen Ginsberg, “America” from Collected Poems, 1947-1980. Copyright © 1984 by Allen Ginsberg.

I May...

be dumb as rocks and as dull as rusted iron at times but at least I'm not as dumb as rusted iron and as dull as rocks. #iwin

Hi.

https://www.instagram.com/reel/CLfM8BtHYhz/?igshid=blsagrfzwmp3Hayyyyyy

This makes no sense.

• Pssssst Chancho... I need to borrow some sweatssss. Chancho: are you leaving us? Nacho: No, Chancho, I would never leave you. I just need to borrow some sweatssss.

Tiger, you hit the jackpot! Do you not see how well this 45 year-old prances with his elastic and ever-expanding Covid pantses?

The Birds.

Who eats this early? This is absurd.