Month: April 2026

I’m preparing for the end of the world, I’ve got a survival backpack with things like a flashlight, a Swiss Army knife, extra batteries, extra lighters and matches, duct tape, water purification tablets, even seeds for growing vegetables. This good Friday we mark the light of the world being extinguished. From the womb of Mother Mary to the empty tomb, the double edged sword that is Christ our Lord. Fossil fuel is running out, impossible rules and colossal fools govern us. America is at war again, a nation with a chip on it’s shoulder. Someone once told me that hope is a very small thing, the screams of a new born child streak like a comet across the morning sky. Child of the universe. Trump called his enemies stone age people, one man with a stone in his hand who pulled down Goliath( the white house and it’s lies)

Prophet of the lost arts. The cafe is open and I write poems. It’s no longer a soap opera, it’s Americans without homes, addicted to opiods. A land of songwriters and seriel killers. I don’t walk on eggshells, I walk on burning coals, living out my addictions. Junkies haunt the alleyways and the tired faces of the drunks are a ticking clock. I walk the mean streets, the meat between the layers of white society. Free range beggars are in the doorways. From the lost paradise of my youth to these hard habits that are my truth. Why is it that I like going into a heart of a city, but I hate walking past the homeless with empty pockets?

I wear a T shirt that says in capital letters, NEW YORK, red bull (rebel). I’m here to tell you, Lady Gaga, as another artist, anything you ever did of any importance you stole from someone else.