KEROUAC

Jackie boy        

            stayed 

       up all 

    night 

                                 high on benny 

writin 

  about his 

       saint 

   of a 

    brother 

                   SAD 

    eyed 

          and 

        not drinkin

   but writing

  his way to the 

           gates 

          

     

       

"This sandwich is kinda dry"
Evan put down his sandwich and looked 

around for, perhaps, some 

organic tahini sauce 

or something like that
"Those Antiwar protesters were a bust

we got nuthin"
"I'm gonna grab some vegan mayo"

Sherry checked her phone. 

Text from the office
'general called wants to do interview'
with the generals phone number
"Okay now we're talking"

" Whoa man, we came here to confront the 

profiteers of War.  This General's piece of crap..."

Ja put both hands up and did the quote thing with

his fingers

"quote unquote memoir is just another 

example of the US military complex 

reaping the benefits 

of their horrific never ending wars."
The faces of the fellow protesters seemed 

sincerely upset by what was going on though 

some were laughing at some private joke
Ja was wondering what happened to Sandy.

She still hadn't shown up.
Ajax jumped in "Yeah man we don't want these

war pigs- no offense BLACK SABBATH Whoo 

great album! 

yeah um what was the question?"

"I don't see anything going on?"

"Did you ask at the bookstore?"
"Yeah they said the anti-war protesters 

  all left, they had the book signing 

and the General left with some young 

 curly haired brunette" 

"Okay, well, good thing we know that!

Fuck!" 

 "Two hours wasted on that bullshit 

general, I guess we missed the protests."

" I saw a bunch of the protesters 

chowing down at that vegan restaurant,

that place is pretty good."
"right now? fuck, let's go interview them!

Let's go!" 

" yeah okay maybe I'll get a sandwich"

Sandy and the general 

 were sitting in the front 

 seat of his brand new Cascadian Silver Lexus 

   trading hits of Peppermint Schnapps

"Wow!' Said Sandy 

"This shit is tasty!"

The general, after bemusedly listening

 to a heated political haranguing,

 had offered to discuss 

  (from an insiders perspective) 

 the economic forces

which had perpetuated and instigated

  the so-called Tecate Wars
he suggested they retire 

   to his car and share a toast to all anti-war

efforts globally 

              to which Sandy had just smirked
but thinking she might gain 

a front page expose for her University newsletter

   agreed

      "Are these real leather seats?"

    she asked as she stroked the smooth, cool, rawhide seats
"yeah that fucking dealership

   totally ganked me on those fuckers, but, yeah,

they feel good, glad I paid the extra 

seven thousand."

 

By the time 

the camera crew arrived 

   the anti-war beatniks had made their scraggly way

 to Sally's Vegan Avocado & Sprouts-atorium

 and were debating 

   whether bringing attention 

 to the General's recently published memoir

 was, in fact, aiding the 

Miltary-Industrial Complex

   Ja Bite turned to his friend

    Ajax and said with a mouth full of sprouts,

 whole grain bread, and tofu deli slices

  "Where's Sandy?"
     "I dunno" Ajax said as he slurped his 

   tempeh bouillabase

"She said something about confronting that 

pig of a generallisimo directly."

 

  

TECATE WARS (cont.)

the drive to el cajon was 

 uneventful. 

   the general parked and walked to the

 Katzberger's bookstore 

 he stopped when he saw the liquor store 

"maybe just a wee bottle of sumpin"

     outside the bookstore a 

cadre of scruffy antiwar protesters 

spotted him and began yelling 

 and waving their handwritten signs

'hmm, maybe I should have bought some security'

                         he hoped his breath didn't reek of peppermint schnapps
'well' he said as he dialed the local tv news station
'there's no such thing as bad publicity'

 

Uncle Carl had a boat 

down in the keys

   we went down there

               we drove from New Hampshire -

when you see for the first time 

   tall slender palm trees and short squat

pelicans and feel 

the warm ocean air breezing 

     across the highway 

it was the mid sixties-

                   I got sick on the boat 

    when we went fishing -

   Uncle Carl married my 

 Aunt Gladys - great aunt- 

                                she was my grandfather's only sibling
  great pictures of them - Douglas, Gladys, and Carlos

Carlos was his real name
  I think he was Spaniard 

     or Argentinian
      He kept a Winchester Rifle on 

 the fishing boat

                but the sea air ruined it 

Carlos was a building inspector 

                       and he would get bottles of liquor as gifts
but he and Gladys were Methodists and didn't drink

                                so they put the bottles in boxes in the garage 

        

  

you're stealing time 

                 from Mother Nature

but she just winks

and sends a torrent of 

    wildflowers 

                    bursting across the desert-

    the giant,
 finger long,

    caterpillars 

       are stealing tiny white flowers 

    feasting with their gaping maws

                                     insuring their transformation-

   Who is stealing from Mother Nature?
       the police are searching 

                   for the perpetrators
but they're
cloaked in shiny smiles
and yearly reports
the detectives look in all the wrong places
you aren't guilty
when they put the handcuffs on

                              and your alibi
is a dead llama
  

 the drivel 

           the dribble 

 no thanks 

     but where do we stand 

on this muddy life

   down a piece 

                        the charts are off the charts  

whales are trying to talk to us 

                             "KNOCK it off, assholes!"

                                    I'm thinking about the soil 

       God is watching 

us fuck up 

  ah crap

twitched 

 in the twill 

 some sly thought 

 scratches 

                from the inside

 the mountain pauses

                           steam brewing in the kettle

                                   we shake our pant leg

the sky wanders in 

                    slow to take a chair 

                     orders flapjacks & coffee

    and we go back to work

the aging retired General
  stared at the box of his new memoir
 To Tecate and Back!
   He was due at a book signing in El Cajon
   at 3:00
   "Better get my shit together here."
He said as he took a drag off a giant roach
 "fuck wHOO!"

the city life 

    was taking it's toll

           fog and wealth

         at the gates 

                             and everywhere
but nobody could give
 a shit for too long
   there was drinking to do
   and
                            the sky was tired

           

still, the even-tide

shoreless walk in 

the midday sun but

not forgetting tuesday

with a doggie necklace

and a bucket of suds

is that what they wanted
 no but what the heck
  can you be more obtuse
no sorry i can't
 but it's raining again
 yeah so make some soup
    tom ka gai
                      please

 a stones throw 

     from quiet 

the meandering began 

 no it wasn't fraught with meaning 

just another goddamn day 

 some little birds 

            were chirping 

                             outside his window 

 so he opened a beer 

and turned on the sox game

the pile up 

of a large amount of k's

                          cross seam cheese

one out in the ninth

                     fouled off to hang in

tomorrow off to Baltimore

better be careful with this guy

                       Yonder Alonso carves it  

                                down the line

                      walk off by Delmonico

3 run bomb
breaks Boston's heart

snap to 

 simple sez 

        what finds 

 one who doesn't seek

  ahh the knowing...

       of nothing

                             and so damn sure

      but lost in the maze like 

                              like Mr. Torrance 

                                    froze to death

                                          I guess

brackets 

 go backward 

                                      you're winding up the stairs

                                           of tautological dismissiveness-

 dont leave your hand there 

it might get cut off

    when they find out you're a thief 

         but it doesn't matter 

                                                       a little tea and honey will make it alright