Tuesday, August 8, 2017

9818. HERE COME MY EXCALIBUR NOTEBOOKS

HERE COME MY 
EXCALIBUR NOTEBOOKS
I passed the same place I passed before but I'm
headed in that other direction and there's really
nothing to show :  the one day I was here I sat
on the lawn of the Woodstock Library while
the guy nearby kept telling me about the messages
they were putting in his brain. Yes, 'they.' No, I
didn't really wish to hear his rant but stuck around
anyway  -  goodness of heart and all my loving
kindness. The guy was lost in space, his own, but 
space no matter. How do you help a fellow human 
when his 'stupid-guts' are hanging outside his body?
I told him they hit me up too but I don't go talking
about it like some out-of-control goon. I make it
work instead for me, inside, and wholesomely.
And then, as I held him in a headlock while his
nose was bleeding, I said "If you ask me 'well 
then what's the difference?' I swear I'll kill you
now." I didn't figure to repeat myself either, but
I added about how we all have stupid-guts but the
wiser among us keep that hidden. He asked my
name and I said Teddy 123. And then he asked
what I was holding  -  my papers and all  -  and
I made up, right then, '"My Excalibur notebooks."
He didn't have a clue, and then he nodded off.
If I had ever been here before, I didn't know it.

1 comment:

Fajr Alsafa said...
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