__ there's


when it comes to death there's no nationality


  death's more than national  its out over all boundaries

                 when's it not political     ~

__________ do our lives become fully fictional at our death?



re corruption


Corruption is a virtually institutional way of life  in the province of Quebec.

it works from the side to the diagonal to the top along and skimming across the top

                           and right through sailing right on down the hundreds

of bottoms

                           and now with the  300 million that's going to be spent on the Royal Victoria Hospital

      to keep it looking pretty
                             and tidy up its loose ends
after all it's an 'historic site' 

    needing maintainence

                           everyone just loves seeing its gloomy spires atop the city

a  big feasibility study  that wont cost more than   8   million

 and they wonder
    they wonder how come
                         & why   people everyone

                       just people all the people across the spectrum of life are cynical


                          what else can there be if cynicism (captialism's latest disease
                                                    yet another Ism  )

                                                                                       just a  taken as a matter of regular life    .


Longish poem in the works...

Longish poem in the works...

Longish poem in the works...

Longish poem in the works...



Re: alexander p assisted me...


 and a handful of others were worked with me          in the high wire


                          of     the 

                    p            e             r
         f         o             r    m   a      n c e   

 (it was the invention of god that really drove 'em crazy

 Nietzsche's Daughter had been rich, complex, layered,

            but IoG was dangerous, threatening, with airplanes in the sky!
w eaving words of love         dram a  and high acting

  cops and robbers

                  & electric poetry threatened to knock em all their seats    !

 so it got thrown


   the dead rushing in right off with praying to stamp it out

 then the next to dead the not quite deaders and deadest and hatErs 

came trumbling along

  fools and dead beats

           no hearts in their heads

                 no heads anywhere in their bodies

 confronted by the grand slam uncle to poetry that I was  


              they were impressed with music
                                                                           & i knew it was a beast
            a  god
                               that had to be trained

                     if need be with a whip
                                                               or better yet  a hammer
                      in the coiling cage of its rage

                                            a n  insane  god that had eaten itself alive

                             in the monstrous and worse moils of
                                        the gyrating beat
                                                      of the world beast

                          nasty chains of its deterritorialized lust

                     nor the dumb drum beats of iambic pentameter

                                      droning its own ever repetitious sleep in a snore
          across the vacuous or the vacancie of north america

  yes there was music   Oh yes but surrounded with a veiled cage
 grounding in the crawl of the human voice



Re: alexander p assisted me...


alexander p assisted me...


  all those years back  or ago when those jackasses some of whom were  close in breathing
     right down             next to me 'down my back'  ..'my neck'   (them guys, mostly alway guys  that criticized me an my work of the day and night of what it was i was doing at   a  time    _

                                       _____________ i never believed them

always knew they were off  an wrong

  but it was fun playing them along

        it made them better artists in the end 
  better than they might ever have been  were i not there 

        hadn't I not done the contradictory things  i did

    way over their head

somesaulting & acrobating classical music
                        & at the same moment as the dadaesque moment of rocked it's roll baby
       the jazz dig of atonal

               god and female muse present in the body of Pat Macgeachy


                and a handful of others were worked with me          in the high wire

                          of   my       p            e             r            f         o             r    m   a      n c e        ~ 




Mister D we gotta fix this one up ya dig?

surely to be I do and do

  saint of knee and debt pray for me
   saint of debted knee pray for it
         tutelary deity of debt brought on by knee and study
     dance and infinite walkin an waitin

                    of sittin' an 

   saint of heart pray for us
              pray for the heart beating regular
                           knee moving rhythmically

saints of leftist and good socialist
    pray for the end of filthy lucre

   & disgusting wealth of the few

over the millions of many

 pray for the millions of many

thriving in their strength

   thriving in our strength

contrary to the dirge of the herd



blithe thee~ moon


thee moon shone like  a  pickle

   'out' there inside the sky



cars and colonies


Post British commonwealth /empire

 trudeau brings the  constitution here
   over the decades since    the Irish Anglo  society, once thriving in Montreal and throughout Quebec has been decimated, disappeared,

the pathetic groping of half assed suburban 'minority' existence

 tv  stations

 radio shows

do not make freedom

 quite the contrary

----  2

  the country as  a whole may have been better off without the so called repatriation of  the so named constitution

    perhaps   but in any event

the English speaking of Quebec have not fared better under it.

___________  English Montreal was wiped out in terms of its visible presence in the City and elsewhere.
the english middle class learned to kiss ass

   and do so very well

  .        daily hourly nightly kissing Ass.

the so called social advances   of this society of Qubec society have been the bloated civil service laden over unionzied  fat cat

        guaranteed safety for the few with more and more private insurance and 

  pea-nuts and sewer water for the rest

-------------------- Oh Canada O Quebec

   and O Montreal

  with your metro station and public buildings named after clerical fascists
   and you wonder Montreal why they leave
    how come the best leave and  shall  again 

leave you

 with shit and 

O Montreal

Your Hochelega shall sink.


  Historical betrayals in the end always turn against themselves.


some idiots still call it the two solitudes


Labour day.

  it was once called



  of  the two so called founding people of this province but really now

  its no solitude and the remains the very little remains of the IrishAnglo community 's existence here has been wiped out ,

   is being wiped out,
   and will continue to be wiped  out

.   that is the patrimony    .

                    the rest is chicken feed and a cowardice stemming from the interests of those that ruled and still continue to rule the roost

   the big banks and the rest of 'em.





How does one explain a creation that's moved so fast it cant keep up with itself? that it's a life not a
head  in the toilet

   that art,   that creating art's a life


re: bad writing ....

 Bad writing's born everyday!


  yes and that was a perfect example of it  : the vanishing subject, weird object , misconstrued phrasal verbs, misplaced idea and an assumed fiction that is not your own.

you ought to be ashamed of the person who wrote that.

but we don't take it too seriously do we now,

   it was fiction

both in format

form an









our breakfast

& lunch

cause lunatics run the world


us  other ones, us lovers, and adults of the dust , we gotta keep ducking keep our heads

      below the fire so 's to live this life....

is there is no change  then ? no justice  ?

indeedthere is there is it's hidden across the columns of time and universe

. everyone knows the good news

  but keep , everybody keeps talking about the bad news.

  all the news that's fit to print?men in suits, wearing ties and /white shirts

             took over the planet it's been over a  hundred years now?

                                  the suits and tie.

             go figure.



labour day

  it's 56 years today since  the death of Emmett Duffy on Labour day of 1959 he was 29.