always with the mid-week blues - some strange strange rut -
whatever high came yesterday -
today came the breaking of the donkey's back...
even the whiskey isn't helping -
well - it just might if shy away -
from the grand world colours and
things as really real and tangible as bricks,
the sun the moon the clouds - back to my usual -
seeing the letters and the words: but not hearing them
and not having to shout them either from
the rooftops or into the abyss for
an surprise of an echo morphed coming back...
perhaps some marijuana could
help... alas... england...
everything is contaminated -
sick vietnamese pot that turns people
psychotic - nothing from sweet sweet
amsterdam... so...
hell... it can only be the blues -
at least listening to people singing
about drinking whiskey is just the sort
of company i need right now...
and if that won't work...
hell... i'll just have to translate
some Horace - john lee hooker:
'doctor put you on... milk, cream and alcohol!'

ad quartam iaceo, post hanc vagor aut ego
lecto aut scripto quod me tacitum iuvet unguor
olivo, non quo fraudatis inmundus Natta lucerni.
ast ubi me fessum sol acrior ire lavatum
admonuit, fugio campum lusumque trigonem.
pransus non avide, quantum interpellet inani
ventre diem durare, domesticus otior.
haec est vita solutorum misera ambitione
gravique; his me consolor victurum suavius
ac si quaestor avus pater atque meus patruusque
fuisset.

i lie till four, i read, the silence of work comes
favourably, i write, i whine, i rub my body with oil,
but not the oil, which mean Natta stole from the lamps.
i exercise, weary of the swelter i head to the bath -
a ball's triangle and the Field of Mars abandoned.
breakfast, rather modest, just in order to withstand
till dinner, then at home - time spent freed from
pursuits. that's just how i'm living
without ridiculous ambitions and i think,
that i will live an even more happier life,
than if my grandfather, my father or my uncle
was even a questor.

yes, that was much needed...
suddenly i feel... a whole lot damn happier...
freeing... let the whiskey flow...
i'll be vulturing around midnight for some time
to come...
how else would i feel...
after reading the mind of a man...
who also never once aspired to ridiculous
ambitions -
let it remain so.