BASICS

I'm on the dial, a radical experiment on the air. Cultural

venues, school board elections changing the coarse of events. A refreshing

angle, a compelling angle, of 22 minutes watching Cody enjoy those

dog biscuits and he's not even a dog. He told me that if I think that's

funny, I should come by when he is taking a shower. His naked body is

that of a question mark on the human race. Where did the mold come

from I wonder? Where is my bag? I know I saved $1.33 somewhere, I need

my coffee and bagel money now! Please, Please , wait. A regiment of

morning exercise seems cool, But I can only seem to visualize it and

not really do it, my body and my feet hurt way to much. Mrs. Hausler,

I'll kill her today if she does laundry while I'm showering again.

Doesn't she realize that I'm showering? Doesn't she realize I'm in the

shower? Doesn't she smell the lather of lavender soap from Loccitane?

Look at all those Earthly creatures with frizzled brains and

darkened hearts, their LDL'S are clogging up their pipes. It's too bad not

enough of them are clear and fluid, we'd have a lot more miracles here

to change shit into gold and much much more than that. Oh no, there it

goes, I've lost the station. Just when I think I can let go. Patients,

patients. My God, look at everyone. You know your fading out of this

time line when everyone on the air looks a lot younger than you and

you can't even change the station, there's no escape, just the delivery of

death and that might not be so bad after all. Maybe living is really the

tunnel, they just weren't going to fit into this present gig. Did you get

it? You've got it? Good! I came in with just the bare necessities, you

know, breath and light. They serve me well. Well not always enough to

pay for my Macy's and Victoria's. Where are my Wings! I want my

Wings. I'm not answering the phone, I'm not answering the door, I'm

not answering to anyone including myself. Well, maybe I'll answer my

E-Mail. I just can't resist the Dot Com ,Dot Com, an abbreviated digital

language spoken by fleshy humans with a digital brain. You know, it

could be a hit song. I wonder what Daniel Webster is doing these days?

Who would know that it's Dot Com? Cher could do it. She's a multi-

dimensional being from the 60's and with arriving into the new

millennium she is it.

Change the station please, I've got to get out of here. I'm late and

Mrs. Hausler has started the laundry already. Oh fuck, it's going to be a

bad hair day, I just know it. Transient Global Amnesia could be worse

though. It sounds like a Universal disease. Maybe the world is asleep

and I'm the only one awake. Maybe all this is an illusion. Hey! then

where did the all HMO'S come from? Did you know that if you looked

inside a dream you're the only one there playing all the parts of

director, actor, and cameraman? Did you ever notice that you sometimes

never see yourself? That was a bit of OXYMORON. What a

FOOL. They only rush in when the mice aren't here. August Moons and

TENOR SPOONS ring out HALOS of vibrating tunes. Color me here,

color me there and ask Mrs. Brown if she ever really cared about the fruit

cake I baked for her, that she never ate but gave to her neighbor,

who gave it to her daughter and she kept it in her closet for one year

until the next Christmas and gave it to me for a house warming

present. Why is fruit cake to be so feared? Is there a mass conscious

movement against eating fruit cake and hiding it in your closet for

one year? I know, it's a joke. Right?

Hey Sidney, how's Emma these days? Never mind, there goes Mr.

and Mrs. Harry Berman hand in hand. There definitely going to make

it this time around. I know it. The Ouija Board never lies. Hey Abbott!

Did you know that in Niagra Falls you can find lovers, monsters and

strangers of all kinds? Ones that can speak to you, make love to you,

and even ones that can eat you and spit you up and out piece by piece

into the Hudson, down the River into Manhattan. What a way to

go Joe. Give me liberty or give me death, but please don't give me anymore

bananas, please! Yogi's pretty mad right now. Micky and Billy came in very

drunk for today's ball game at Yellowstone Park,

and they both forgot their jock straps. Gee Yogi, what are we going to do

now? I know, let's have Chinese Food. I'm bored, but I must save some

time in the day to rewrite the Theory of Relativity and watch the

Thanksgiving Day Parade with the Macho Man and Dick Clark. That's

him. Mr. American Band Stand, the living Dorian Grey. No, he's living

in my attic space. I remember now. Grandma's up there too rocking

What is she talking about, the volume down here only levels out at

5 compared to her octave 12. I think she's been asleep way to long to know

that her voice doesn't count down here anymore. Poor thing,

she'll get over it, in the next life I'm sure.

I wonder where the I is, the occupying tenant of the body, when

that body is relinquished and disintegrating? It's not on the TOP TEN

list of the Hit Parade, that for sure. Let's go ask Freud and Jung

and invite Nietzsche too, but please don't ask them to play Parcheesi,

we'll use sign language so we don't have to wake up anyone and disturb

those old bones. That's the truth. For there is a stability needed to hold

an arrow, but where is the bow? Why not seek it as well? For the bow has

been made perfectly from the patterns of nature and somewhere off in a

distance an Owl wails into the night. It can always be heard as a

warning. And those of you who would have nothing to do with thorns,

should never gather flowers. No! Not in this garden! It's hot, way to hot

and so clear and full of ravaging light, that you need to be of the same genre,

otherwise you could go blind. And to be in the unknown is a

darkness dispelled by an almost unconquerable hope, that is conquered

finally by a flint of truth.

Oh, Hi Love. Yes, I did see that you tried to reach me Sunday

Night. It was about 11:00 PM that I decided to scan my caller ID and

there you were. Not the way I would have wanted you, but nevertheless

you were linked to my box. Yes, I forgot my Pager at home yesterday,

another loss of contact with you and to arrive home 2 minutes too

late to receive your call. It's frustrating. Your message was not clear.

Did you have to hang up? Were you beneath the East river? I thought I

heard the spread of wings. I tried to call you back at the office. I even

Paged you. I guess your not using Duracell's these days. I even called

the hospital. You were gone, nowhere to be found. I miss our evening

conversations. Yes, I miss you. I'm always in the dark. But I'm here.

My candle burns at both ends for you and I. And although it may not

last the night; Oh my love, my friend, it gives such a lovely light.
--Hope Saphos DeVenuto