June 23 2005


Thank goodness Condi's got a bevy of foreign ministers to entertain

and has been quiet for a couple of days. There's a high of 107 where

I'm going today - happy I wrote, in anticipation


Tumbleweed's my next of kin

I finally found a partner willing to drive the truck and make the movie

of me shrinkwrapping them and my obsession with real-world

compression and thistle-management, cemented bamboo skewers,

totemic amaranthine sheshkabobs photographed and reduced - to

reproduce in three dimensions for the purpose of provocatively

weighting paper - todays artists bent on creation of large scale in

public have got it all wrong - I know being right is no consolation

makes for enmity, its dangerous - I like it out here in the desert

title of my anthem to separation nonanxiety -

save you, darlin



THREE HOURS SOONER OR LATER - Chip Sought "Talk" Therapy

for the problem that is Condi's Stalking him


-So Condi kind of corners you with her emotional

- Outbursts, yeah, she says she feels like an impostor

- What kind of an impostor

- Oh, a Black woman, I guess, hanging out with the W's and the Rumsfelds,

providing all these intellectual underpinnings and moral equivalencies...

- What do you say to this?

- I don't know what to say, and saying the truth feels too devastating

to let loose - its pathetic, sad, repugnant - the only impostoring I can

sense is her and human being-ness

- Well

- You know I checked, really, for the rubber human mask with zipper

concealing the lizard - she's human allright

- How can you be sure?

- I know she has a menstrual cycle - the stalking gets worse periodically -

its like clockwork, her stalking ebbs, flows - she's very regular and very

fucked up about wanting me to share her lust for blood

- the masturbation phone calls

- its like I put the phone in the next room and I can still hear her

- Why don't you hang up?

- I take her "jokes" about the vacation in Cuba business seriously

- That's smart

- She says they are all like that

- Who?

- You are not too worried about Need to Know?

- I can't help you if I don't know

- Well what surprise the administration is full of blood fetishists?

- Top down?

- all the Cabinet members are soaking in it

- oh

- Yeah she says I need a black woman

- Do you?

- I had a Black Woman, Emily, my one, my only, my Addie - I tell Condi

that, as if that's what keeping me from her, but she's not Black,

and coming from a reverse chronological flow negro like me -

I don't know, I just don't have the emotional wherewithal to level

with such a wretched high-level human being like that - I mean

- You think it could affect our Foreign Policy?

- If you think its heinous now, Emily

- So you tell her about you devotion to Addie

- True enough, as far as it goes

- How does she take that?

- Kind of cagey - I can tell she's trying like to hell to track Addie's

family down so she can threaten me

- Did you tell her about the Crisco Storey?

- Good lord, No!

- I wouldn't, either. I don't know Chris - this is a tough one.

I admire you for doing what you can to keep the heinous-ness

of our Foreign Policy within some kind of bounds - but I worry

about what its doing to you

- All I'm asking for is a couple of refills on the 25 milligram valiums

- All that does is hide the symptom of your anxiety - it doesn't address

- You think I don't know that! But you know what it keeps me functional.

When I couldn't get a hold of you yesterday, after her latest series of

intrusions - I had to steal that car

- I understand - we'll get you 250,000 milligrams of valium, available on

- That's a relief - it helps me write my new referent-less, clean pure unsullied

by worldly detail or convenings with hideous prosal turgidity-less prose

- I appreciate that

- Emily I think its what the world needs now

- Easy on the rime

- Easy on the dime

- Get Rid of the Body

- Not in just photography, but at every opportunity

- if anyone can sing the reverse chronological flow negro spiritual bio-semiotic

- Thanks Em

- Murl don't lose my url

- Can I borrow a pen?

- Don't you worry about paying me, Chip - just know how relieved and proud

I am to be a citizen of the same country as you

- Talk like that can get the old transference cooking

- You can't stand the heat

- Whens your next appointment

- 30 minutes past transgression


If this conventional syntax word knitting, wound round and round

like preforatable white tissues on a cardboard tube - I hesitate to

demean the notion of "prose" with this, and regret the connoting

of shix some of you baser creatures are sure to - if it looks like

something I might do while more purposefully engaged with a creole

tomato sandwich, mayo, salt, butter lettuce and avocado - that's

correct, that's the true to life effect some have been looking for -

crystal chunk of sea salt, here in the heat, high of 94, low of 81,

the usual great percentage of Humidity - turning back around with

the Corrola I stole yesterday off Ber=Gundy street was a smart thing -

I come back and the parking spot was still empty and I don't even know

if it was missed, thank goodness, the proliferation of grimy worldly

detail was starting to sink me, and as I snuck away from the corolla

last night, under the gaze of this beneficent solstice full moon -

this amazing silver disc - I began to think this Condi's stalking me

problem - I have a few, but this seems the worst - this is something

I could deal with; I still had Emily's pager number and her standing

invitation to ring it anytime the walls started closing in and the floor -

you get the picture - where's my home you are wondering by now -

here in Nola its a cool white room with hardwood floors, two shaded

windows in the back of a big house not far from where sonny and stella

carried on in streetcar - its in the text, you can look it up.

But I'm going out now to listen to some earnest-profound-tropical

caterpillar=with-colours-poetry, as is the style around here -

i don't think its right, but its the least offensive entertainment I

can think of, and I need some - I'll tell you all about what Emily helped

me realize about Condi's Stalking behavior means, and what I can do

about, and pretty soon my writing return to the miracle unscented

waterless hand eye and mindcleaner prose I was aspiring to, that

a few of you out there, I know, thank goodness, were hoping for to.

I'm going to have to drink a little though, to abide by all this orange

and green creepers stinging what're they thinking metamorphosis

verse - wish



We all like horizon lines don't we - seen through windshields as the sun

wanes on the years longest day, still warm, not going anywhere - Condi's

breaking the law to harass me, no way its ethical or legal to use federal

resources like she does to keep these tabs on me - its killing me, I decided

to make a break for it, fingering the old corolla key I keep - it

will open every other 80's toyota, I tried a few this afternoon on Burgundy

street, and bingo - now I'm heading west, 34 miles per gallon, feeling a

great guilt about this theft, its closing in on my chest, I can't even play

the radio without hearing in other news, Condoleeza; I got so freaked out

by the voice mails I dropped my phone out the window moving at 60 mph -

I have about 5 gallons left, about 10 dollars, sob, weep, scream - I hope

our secretary of state is happy now - not enough to foment genocides

and generations of strife not enough to have her knowing little chucklefests

with the sunday morning syncopaters in the guise of archerdanielsmidland

reporters - this humble little life of mine that just wanted to write, quietly

referent-lessly, to get rid of the body and the season and even the flavor

scent texture colour and miracle of the rose - to dispose of you and whittle

the hideous slavering rationalizing monstrosity that is I down to a few shards

consequential of next to nothing - to find the harmless poetry in this, to

consume and harm as little as possible in this effort -

it does embitter

I do feel the bile rise in my throat

this crime I've committed - stealing someones beloved little 87 tercel -

I can tell by the way they've kept it, by the silly plastic dashboard palmtree's

monkeys and miniature beachchairs depicting oasis - I should turn now

to put the sun behind me and drive back to Bergundy street

I guess she thinks I know too much

how about a nice vacation in Cuba her last text message said

so much for my dream of a new prose style - fucking Condi's - I could

tell you a few things - stalking me

I wanted the new writing to fall down like rain, only all usion I was

going to use, and the bicycle, effortless pedaling of the bycycle,

maybe - no bicycle, that's too much like the body - and calories,

pretty soon they're being ingested and then next you have to wonder

what's being excreted, and with excretion comes critic-ism, petty

dislikes and offal exchange of diminutive compliment - no faint praising

here - just rain thought pattering spongey miraculous eye-sopping -

eye is not part of the body, free censored herald tribune with the

all you can eat breakfast buffet bar - I won't

this Condi's Stalking me business is taking the joy out of my life

and this new potentially miraculous prose I meant to flow her ceaseless

voicemails, these crazy e-mails - doesn't she know these are not

private? Is it the arrogance of being one of the worlds most powerful?

This nonsense about she heard I had a Relationship with a Black Woman?

Sure I had a relationship with a Black Woman and am hard at work on

my autobiography currently slated for 06 Publication by Charles Scribners

REVERSE CHRONOLOGICAL FLOW NEGRO LIKE ME - it pains me to say -

upsets me so, makes me writhe and shake, even to a sociopath like

her, Condi, you are not a Black Woman - not like Addie, and I have no

interest in meeting your family and I do not care how poised you are to

take over for Chaney in Sixteen - says the gap in our teeth is the same

slow incrementally widening 1/13th of an inch - fed exing these ridiculous

silver plated ankle weights - don't you have an inhumane foreign policy

to run - LEAVE ME ALONE

sigh, breathe, okay - back to my plain illusion-less prose, basal finger

tapping measure of my pulse, tapped bits of black into the white void

of the page so that it may be seen - taken in the eyes, reading,

breathed - I want to be the non stinging jelly fish a wave slops over

your

you again - see what this Condoleeza Stalking Me business has done

to this page's erstwhilest dance with grace, our chance at repose,

respite from the knowers of all?



I wanted to keep everything out of my new writing, everything but

this weather, which, where ever I am - today its Singapore, low of

79, hi of 83, light monsoons in the afternoon, fragrant dutch colonial

scents in the air, black jellied century nitrogen eggs, fermented

durian - to keep my writing clear of so many things, diary, emotion,

sarcasm, humours, he said she said, peaks and valleys of the

obtuse endocrine - palette cleansing prose that has no need to

impress, know it all, lavishly describe, pith manufacture - inform -

readers nowhere to get this stuff - not here, she comes for the

"stunt" the live finger tapping exclusive of even the extraneous -

this is the aim, not the ambition, there is no "target"; no great

affiliations to speak of, no maligning, praising, recognizing or

considerations to make, just to let it unfurl, page after page of-

but this morning

I am upset and have no recourse but to go public that

CONDI'S STALKING ME

Yes - that singular Condi of Stanford Provost fame, is way into me

and its starting to hurt. It started innocently enough, I was in the

front row of the Gap Toothed Fella's Assembly, we got together on

a la



okay here goes, just real live fresh writing off my fingertips

no drugs involved, just water, sips my favorite new word -

no thinking, no deleting, no check-spell, no idea's - just regular

syntax writing as performative - wait, "stunt"

my likes have enlarged in this hiatus, something definitely happened,

let me tell you about the weather cannot be praised often enough

around here, though I do not know how hot it was - I wish you were

here, but its a rule, no writing to you anymore - your name or nothing,

your cooling sweat pooling in the curve of your spine, this I held

and gently patted dry - reason enough no invoking this you around

here - sacred as are, little

I slipped

just the real live good country fresh wordstock, keep reading, come

on - how about this Robert Horry basket player? What about this Manu

fellow from Argentina? That reminds so much of the Juco baller I once

was, pride of

Colours, Sonata

people earn money not other method around

it is not getting better - rationalized health care -

no bummers here at the web-log, I'm getting hooked again.

I have read a book or two and let me tell you - drugs sound

very good right now - I've been trying to get used to the sadness,

its not a problem, a torment, an illness text can cure - it just is.

It makes me dull, this idea I should not like to shrug it off

I should just - too many eyes, I'm sorry - that's how it goes though

with the automatic unpremeditated writing for no reason but to

write model - the inside of rais'n bran cathedral boxes are full

of text - diatribe, everytime I enter a walgreens now I fuck shit up -

how else to justify the differential between peoples clinic prices

and these? Twice as much - M'Opera, anybody like to hear M'Opera?

They sent a van to costco yesterday, didn't even ask me if I wanted

anything, I need batteries, 24 packs of duracells, evereadies, and I'll

tell you why, the automatic writing isn't going so well its to revealing

I need mediation, some 10 milligran v's, I need

webutrin back to the new automatic writing web-log

predictable encounters with constabulary n sherriffs

next - no I though -