blurrred faded

i broke my glasses yesterday on the way out. im told they might not, its not ilkely they can repair them.

well insurance plan does not start till feb. its why i was waiting till then . i write now with head bend forward closer to screen like i do when tryin to play piano. listening to the keys/ out today it was wonderful. snow blowing around and sun. of course getting new glasses costs too much money. everything does. and guess, what? folks ? there are no jobs for a fellow like me, nor I am certain are there any for others, there must be hundreds, thousands who would and can like to teach but
guess what?

NO GO

No Jobs
Out of your ASs
Get ready to live in tent!
what a a fuck up
the place where i live is owned by some one who came here after ww2 that does not trust anyone and this reactionary pig does better than I in this country. Oh well its all a joke. Its a ll patois bullshit. property is delirium. why some get to own and others not has always confounded bedeviled and baffle me since kid hood. water tax, same thing,. i remember the first time i got a water tax bill I was living with Gail and I was like what ? water tax? never paid it.as the law was changed that year. lucked out./ it s hard to write with glasses


the bitch is always there. she might very well be an escaped war criminal for all i know. who knows these barbarians who have no concern for others or their neighbors. these barbarians of fear and paranoia, protectionist bastards, paranoid right wing reaction pigs all supporter o the nazi and fascist in their day. and this is the riff-raff capitalism brought to bear on property. what shit. but for every shit like this there are 10 12m, 100 good women and men who are not like this. the rest are savages.

anyhow it does not matte r to me because when i leave this place well, then who knows, i will live in he wind in a tent a cloud an ashtray, an ashtray heart, a soda pop fountain

and I shall thank the good government whiich brought me so low
left me without work
a wasted talent
a gift gone barren

fallow filed

but Ill listen to Bach dying
|| meantime here I am. whittling away day by day. wondering what time means no Kids! i have none!~ no kids to love! the god, I guess its the god of penalty punishment and capital never let me I have children, so I never got to love one of god's most beautiful creations. that too was stolen from me