Tuesday, September 30, 2025

Homer's GULF STREAM

At the debut of the 20th Century the painter Winslow Homer holidayed on the Gulf Stream.

Florida.

Cuba.

And the Caribbean.

According to Wikipedia he read McCabe's Curse, a Bahamian tale about a British Captain McCabe who in 1814 was robbed by thieves, hired a small boat in hopes of reaching a nearby island, but was caught in a storm and later died in Nassau of yellow fever and was inspired to paint his epic GULF STREAM portraying a lost black sailor on a wreck surrounded by sharks which first showed in a 1900 Philadelphia show and then in 1906 at a exhibited at the National Academy of Design after which the jury unanimously demanded that New York's Metropolitan Museum of Art purchase GULD STREAM and the painting has remained property of that establishment since then.

There ain't much better.

THE LAST GO-GO BOY 2008

Americans judge the nation’s fiscal well-being by the rise and fall of the Dow Jones Index, even though Wall Street’s accumulation of wealthy has reaped a mostly negative effect on the vast majority of workers. Next month's bonuses will not add a penny to the buying power of consumers buried under debt and corporations will trim benefits and wages to the bone in order to maximize profit. Other than Occupy Wall Street few employees protest working condition for fear of losing their job.

The economy is still in the shitter and I ask myself what jobs are available for a 60 year-old man.

Very few is the answer.

Years before I had been lucky that Manny always reserved a place for me on West 47th Street, but this year has been the exception. Times are that tough in the Diamond District.

Last month I sold some rings for a gay writer. I flogged his family heirlooms to a black gold dealer in another exchange for the best price possible. Going through Manny would have cut into the final number and the writer needed every dollar to pay his health care bill.

My friend showed his gratitude with a dinner at an Asian fusion restaurant in the East Village. Every seat was crammed with young people enjoying the fast life in the city. These go-getters were my competition in the morning for a subway seat. Luckily these happy-go-lucky youths were not ruthless enough to throw me under the train.

“I never see anyone my age on the subway.”

“Most men our age are retired.” Bruce was a world-known novelist. The heavyweight Syracuse native had won awards in Europe. Critics had recognized his genius. Sales for his last book totaled a little over 2000. “Do you have a retirement plan?”

He ordered with his finger darting over the menu. The waiter paid attention to his every word like he was a seeing-eye dog. Bruce had a way with young men.

“When I hit 70, I'm taking a plane to Norway to rob a bank. I'm going to shoot someone in the leg too so it's armed robbery, then they'll sentence me to 20 to life. I've seen photos of the prison for armed offenders. The rooms have computers and are furnished by IKEA.

“Ten years from now the Norwegian prison officials will have instituted euthanasia for the elderly, so robbing a bank in Oslo is not really an option."

"You have any other suggestions?" I had been doing a little non-union extra work for TV shows. The pay was $8 an hour with a meal. Twelve hours added up to almost $85 with overtime.

"Ever think about taking steel pole lessons from strippers? You could always lose ten pounds and work as a go-go boy at the queer retirement home.” Bruce’s biting wit was best suited to attack rather than self-deprecation.

“More like twenty pounds.” December hadn’t been so cold, although a steady diet of stress had melted the fat from my bones.

“Honey, those old wrinklies aren’t so particular about the weight. They like the young flesh.” Bruce had written a book on the rough trade in Times Square. His tricks had called him Papi. None of them were under 20 and he never sunk under 250 pounds.

“A scary thought.” I felt my age and my young Thai wife kept reminding me over the phone that I wasn’t 17 anymore. Mam was 28 and my son was four years-old. I couldn’t quit working until I was 78.

"Those old fags want someone young.” Bruce was a year from Social Security. “None of those old queens in the nursing homes have seen anyone young as you in decades. You could charge the homes $100 a visit, which has to be better for the old geezers than any other medicine.”

“Thanks for the idea, but I'd rather rob a cradle than a grave."

"Times change and people like you and me have to change with them, plus graves are richer pickings than a cradle. Hell, you could franchise it in Florida. How many retirement homes you think are in the Sunshine State? Thousands? There has to be a demand for middle-aged men from the elderly.”

“Supply and demand.” I ordered oysters with seaweed noodles, plus a glass of wine. The waiter was thin and handsome. He had to be 35 years younger than me. He wouldn't think of me as middle-aged. I was almost 60.

“And who knows? You might be able to sex them up for a little more money on the side.” Bruce caressed the waiter’s behind. He was a regular here. The waiter walked away content to know that he would be receiving a good tip. Bruce liked to pay for sex even if it was merely a grope.

“No way. I barely wanted to have sex with myself let alone with someone else.”

“Why, because you’re too good to have sex with someone older than you. Like me.” He frowned at this unintended insult. “What about the woman you had sex with in Palm Beach?"

"Helen?" She had been unnaturally blonde and thin.

."That's the one. You said she was over 70.”

“That was different.” The heiress had been the publisher of a Florida magazine. We had smoked reefer in her apartment overlooking Lake Worth. The address had been in West Palm Beach. "She wasn't really rich."

"But she had your number." Bruce was fascinated by the sordid.

“How?" The blonde septuagenarian spent part of a good part of her fortune on soaking her body in Botox like it was fondue cheese.

"As I remember it, she said she hadn’t had cock in her mouth in ten years. She had begged for it and you gave it to her like you were shooting a remake of SUNSET BOULEVARD.”

“It was a mercy mission.”

With the lights off, the curtains billowing with the breeze, and Helen wearing sheer lingerie and satin high heels, I imagined that she was Paris Hilton in the year 2040. On her knees the mirage had performed fellatio like she was entering the Porno Hall of Fame. Thankfully she had never said, “Ready for my scene, Mr. DeMille.”

Maybe the first time, but what about the second time?” Bruce sat back, as the waiter delivered our appetizers; fried calamari for him and raw bluepoints for me. “Gore Vidal said about orgies that once is experimentation, but twice is perversity.”

“The second time was because I was drunk.” Two bottles of wine and a joint had loosened by inhibitions and she had had her way with me. “There was no third time.”

Only because you saw her with another man at the Chesterfield.”

“She was in the Leopard Lounge.” The other man had been in his late 60s. He had once been an Elvis impersonator. I felt cheap.

“And you heard her use that ‘haven’t tasted cock’ line on him, so don’t tell me you can’t go-go boy anymore. We all have a price.”

“I’d rather rob a bank in Norway.” I sucked down an oyster tasting of the Atlantic.

“And end up a stick boy in prison.” Bruce was enjoying himself. "You don't look like you'd like being a bottom."

"Never." I never would be a bottom, except with my wife Mam. She got off better that way.

“You do what you have to do to survive. Believe me. I know.” He had taught creative writing at a dude ranch college two years ago. He was lucky to have escaped the range without any charge for perversion.

“I know you do.” Bruce was in his 60s. His novels were in every bookstore in the East Village. His tales of hustlers and go-go boys were cult classic within the gay community. His name in in Wikipedia.

All that meant almost nothing. Bruce was forever broke. Same as everyone in America, for the very rich have no use for old go-go boys.

And I know, because wealth has a funny way of making an old man young, but I had a few good years in me yet and one of them would be in Florida.

Maybe Bruce was right and there was only one way of finding out and high season was only a summer away.

Palm Beach Sunday -2008

In June 1 2008 I was living on Palm Beach.

A barrier island off the Florida coast.

So many of the mega-rich had migrated to their summer haunts of the Hamptons, Nantucket, and the South of France that the Sunday night streets of this exclusive resort felt, as if the Khmer Rouge had marched the wealthy into the Everglades for greed re-education. The emptiness was only an illusion.

That evening, as the remaining rich were idling in their mansions, while I bicycled across the middle bridge in a vain attempt to wire by Thai wife $200 via Western Union. Within an hour I discovered that nothing was open on a Sunday night in West Palm Beach.

I was in Purgatory.

I phoned my wife with the bad news.

She asked if I've found a mia noi.

"Mai mee puying suay."

There were no beautiful women on Palm Beach.

Only heiresses whose skin seemed to have been dipped in a Botox dip.

Tight as a turtle's neck.

"Good man." She's happy I'm alone.

"Thanks, I'll send the money tomorrow." I hung up and wandered by bike over to a convenience store. A 24 oz. Modelo beer cost $2 or 60 baht. 5% alcohol. Actually cheap than Thailand, except you can't drink in public, so I rode the bicycle back to Palm Beach drinking from a can in a brown paper bag..

Thankfully Florida has bike paths, but I got a little worried each time the cops passed me, since DWI includes bicycles and golf carts.

I made it back to Chilean Avenue without any mishaps.

No place to buy more beers, so it's to sleep and dream of driving on the wrong side of the road with a beer in my cup holder.

Paradise.

Alligator Protection - 2017


Florida has about 1,000,000 Mesozoic inhabitants i.e. alligators and 800-1000 crocodiles. None exist on Palm Beach, except as shoes, belts, and pocketbooks for the filthy rich, however alligator attacks occur in the Sunshine State and every resident and visitor should know the proper response.

First scream.

Won't scare the 'gator, but it'll alert people to the fact that something bigger than a mosquito wants a chunk of you.

Alligators are stronger than they look, but their eyes are sometimes bigger than their stomach, so fat people can try a Sumo move of the giant reptiles to maneuver the beast onto its back.

Covering its eyes helps because then it can't see you and might forget what it's doing. Alligators have short attention spans.

If its jaws are shut, then smack it in the nose after covering its eyes. That way it won't suspect you were the attacker. Man bite dog theory.

If you are in the jaws, avoid being shaken by holding the gator's both shut, because once you're in the death roll it's all over.

"What happened to Jimmie?"

"He forgot to cover a gator's eyes, while punching it in the snout."

"Was he holding its mouth shut too."

"No, he only had two arms."

For a related article click on this URL

http://www.mangozeen.com/the-demise-of-naked-gay-discos-in-miami.htm

Saturday, September 27, 2025

Chaney - Sebago Lake - June 1960

My best friends as a child were my older brother and Chaney

We lived in Falmouth Foresides, Maine.

We did everything together.

School, hockey, eating stolen strawberries from the nearby farm, hang at the docks at the end of our street, and swim at Sebago Lake.

My family moved to the South Shore of Boston in June of 1960.

This excerpt from GAYBOY relates the last time we saw each other. --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chaney stood on edge of the lawn. My father had mowed it this morning.

“I guess I’m going.”

“Have a good summer.” Chaney kicked a clump of cut grass with his sneaker. His jeans were torn at the knee. This summer was supposed to have belonged to us. A snorkel and diving mask hung in his hand. They were a gift from his Czech grandmother.

“My father says we’ll return in July for vacation.” The week on Watchic Pond couldn’t come soon enough.

“Don’t go swimming without me.” Chaney lowered his head. Boys weren't supposed to cry in public.

“I won’t.”

I eyed his mask, wishing I had one.

I reached into my shirt pocket and pulled out my Pete Runnel’s baseball card. The infielder was our favorite Red Sox player. I offered it to him.

“Here.”

“No, you keep it, but if you go to a game at Fenway Park, have him autograph it for me.” Chaney smiled with the prospective of having the .300 hitter’s signature as well as not having to hand over his mask in trade.

“Everyone in the car,” shouted my father.

“See you.” I slipped the playing card back into my shirt pocket.

“Not if I see you first.”

___________________________________________________________________________________

I recently recorded a piece about what happens to Chaney.

Please go to this url

Chaney

Wednesday, September 24, 2025

Beneath The Height Of Land

Beyond the windblown Height of Land
An equally windblown town
Off Route 17 running north to Quebec
Reached by rutted road
Neglected by county and state
The town has no name on a map
The few score of inhabitants call it Dogtown
There are no dogs
Nor knowledge of dogs
Under the Height of Land___

The town more a clearing
Worn weary by long and harsh winters The houses and shops and church bear witness
To the cold, snow, ice, sleet, slush, and blizzards
There is no global warming here
There is no summer
Under the Height of Land__

This is the true North
Beyond stretches the Deep North
To the Arctic
Only two seasons
The season of preparing for wintah and Wintah__

The towns people, young and old, walk like the dead
They are not dead
They live
Sad, frightened, unattached to the modern world
No cable TV
No cell phones
No Internet.
They are where they are
Dogtown
Surrounded by swamps
Under the Height of Land__

A battered Ford pick-up creeps along the rutted street
A young man behind the wheel
He parks before the church
He gets out of the car
A letter in his hand__

An old man rakes the church lawn
The young man lifts the letter
Written by a beloved grandmother
He reads the name
Out loud__
His aunt
Met once
Twenty years ago
At her brother's funeral
Outside Portland
On Falmouth Foresides
On the harbor
Far from the Height of Land____

White blonde hair, translucent skin, thin as a corpse
Moving like a goddess reincarnated from the grave
Her finger touched his face
Fingers colder than ice.
Her silver blue eyes on Portland
Like it had once belonged to her__

No smell of the sea
In Dogtown
Surrounded by the vapor of swamps
The young man says his aunt's name
Elyssas Commons
The man points to a house
Across the dirt road
A big house
Desperate for paint
The lawn a jungle
A Benz rusting on its axles
Its last ride
A long time ago__

The old man returns to raking
The young man walks to the porch
The weight of his foot
Answered by a creak
The outer walls
Caked with ashen dust
Unsullied by wind or rain or sleet
No one has been here in a long time.
A knock on the door
Nothing
He calls her name__

Elyssas__

Whispers of footsteps
The door opens
Her aunt smiles with yellowed teeth
Her gossamer gown reveals magic
She has not aged a day
She
Maybe a child
Maybe a crone
A beckoning finger
Skin and bone___

He steps inside
The house a mausoleum
Her bare feet
Pad on dust turned to powder.
The veil hides nothing
Skin white as Virgin vanilla ice cream
High hipbones

A concave belly
A protruding pelvis rod
Pancake breasts
Stiff cigartip nipples
His aunt a wraith
Skin and bones
Driven by
Desire of the wanton__

"Where's your husband?"
"Dead," his aunt whispered in the voice of a forgotten movie star. "Does it matter?"
"No."
She takes his hand
Leads him upstairs
There are no lights
More and more shadows
They are both alive
Also both ghosts__

Inside a bedroom
He hands her the letter
She puts it on a table
Next to a bed
Sheets smell of dead flowers and her flesh of the grave
Earthy.
His aunt parts her gown
His hand pressed against her groin
Wet
Her gash
Fevered
Unlike her cool skin
She lies back
Sighs
Legs apart
He
Enters
Her
She take him
Lost
Lost
Lost
Thrust into his aunt
His mother's sister.
Again
Again
Again
No words
Grunts and groans
Finish with a gasp
Again
Again
Again
Her bones creak with need
More
More
More
Under the Height of Land____


Small people bring food
Wine
Water
They wordlessly worship her
The young man only fucks her
More
More
More
He sleeps
She never
His body surrendered to hers
Day
Night
Day Night
Fucking
Naked
Always
His skin
Raw
Tattered by her nails
There is no nos.
She a demon
He a willing victim
Lust savage godless lust
Elyssas adn he her slave
His mistress
Under the Height of Land__

On the third midnight
He wakes to chanting
Then a scream
Firelight in the window
Red flames flickers through the cracked walls He crosses the room__

Outside
Elyssas
Naked
Dancing around a blaze
With the dwarves
Naked With her husband
Naked
Not dead
Not alive
Like Elyssas___


No desire to run
He is one of them
Them
Sharing the same wicked blood.

His grandother's letter untouched on the floor.

Later
Elyssas lifts her head
Semen dripping from her lips.
A knife gleams in the candlelight
The blade traces runes on his skin
She wants him to cry
To feel his pain
To bury him under surrender
The point cuts deep
He does not cry
He does not surrender
He is he
No longer belonging to she

A right to her head
Elyssas topples from the bed
Knife on the floor
Grabs his clothes and the letter.
He does not run
Not from her__

From the house
Across the tortured garden
Past the fire
The dwarves
His uncle
To the pick-up
Naked

The F 150 starts
His foot revs the V6
His eyes on the second floor
Elyssas at the window
With with her husband
Wraiths
His blood
The dwarves grab at the door.
Drive
The wheels thump over small bodies
He'll have to wash the pick up later__

At Route 17
The young man opens the letter
One word
Shaky script
'Family'__

Over his shoulder.
Only darkness
No one in the rearview mirror.
Only darkness.
His foot stamps on the gas.
Away from the Height of Land And Elyssas
And family
No one waits at his destination
New York
And that's a good thing
Sometimes.
Having no one is a good thing
Especially under the Height of Land__

SCUM - QUADRAPHENIA 1978

Totterham Court Cinema. In November 1979 I saw Quadrophenia and Scum. A double billing. Quadrophina first. After the showing the Mods left the theater and the seats were occuped by Teddies on the way to becoming skins. The two groups still hated each other. Divide sand and conquer by the upper classes. My grilfriend and I sat through both screenings. She a goddess in white leather. Me in black leather. We belong to neither mods or skins. Punks. Neither tribe said anything. Lisa was from Buffalo. Both films born from Stanley Kubrick's CLOCKWORK ORANGE. Chaos. A brilliant cinematic coupling.

Tuesday, September 23, 2025

An Autumn Evening

An Autumn evening
Sitting outside Larina
On the sidewalk
On Myrtle Avenue
Watching passersby
Familiar faces sometimes
Faces friendly
Faces smiling
Faces of people glad for end of the day__
Going home
Going to meet friends
Going to dinner
I want to tell them
Do'nt worry about the now
It's the first autumn evening
Without a hint of winter on the air
But everyone looks
As if they have no worries
Who could on an autumn evening with summer still on the breeze___

Sunday, September 21, 2025

Montauk 9/20/25

Every morning I work in Montauk.I wake with the dawn. Stars fading from the night. I bicycle to the beach. I ordered a coffee from the food truck and sit on a rock to watch waves crash on the shore. This is the North Atlantic Ocean. Not warm like the Sea of Siam at Sri Racha, but the sun is warm and I think I will go for a plunge like I do every morning I am out here. Within the month it might be too cold. o today into the waves. Next year Thailand with my family.

Thursday, September 18, 2025

Man’s Best Friend

Eight days days Charlie Kirk,an extreme rightwing advocate, spoke before a mostly male crowd of three thousand as part of his American Comeback tour at Utah Valley College, a secular institution with an undergraduate population of over 40,000. Twenty minutes into his talk a single shot struck his neck and he bled out the scene, although he was pronounced DOA at the nearest hospital. The shooter evaded the police for several days. The Trump administration immediately condemned the opposition for violence, even though the 61 political killings in the U.S. from 2022 through 2024 were committed by right-wing extremists. Trump himself ratcheted up the rhetoric and vowed to attack left-wing radicals. Free speech is not allowed by anyone. Arrests are made for voicing a negative opinion of Kirk. Soldiers and educators are losing jobs over comments of joy. It is a scary time in the USA, but I was glad to see the flag of a Bushwick church flying at the top of the pole. We are not alone.

Wednesday, September 17, 2025

Letters to My Children

This is a 1953 photo of my Irish grandmother. She left Ireland at 14. She didn't speak English. The Atlantic crossing scared her, and she only got close to the ocean once. When she got off the boat, her shoe was broken. She was barefoot. She was a strong woman, just like your mother. That's me as a baby, one year old, one of six siblings. Funny, I remember you so well as a child. I don't remember myself.

STATE/BANQUET

Donald Trump is on a state visit to the UK.

Windsor Castle. A ride through the estate in the Royal carriage led by the horse guard. The road flanked by the Queen's troops in red coats. A royal dinner with the King and Queen and guests. Meeting with the hated Prime Minister Stammer. There is no mention of his stepping foot in London. Tens of thousands of protestoers have rallied to denounce 47. Not that he cares.

Carol Ann Duffy, a past poet laureate of Britain, had nothing good to say of the monarchy or Trump “I think the past couple of years, with the evil twins of Trump and Brexit … I don’t remember ever having felt such a kind of lowering abstract stress coming from the political aura,” she said according to the Guardian adn she wrote the following poem.

STATE/BANQUET

How it glitters and shines, The Grand Service,
among the rocks and the rubble,
laid out on a breezeblock horseshoe table,
six crystal glasses per setting.
It took eight servants three weeks to polish -
silver coated in a thin layer of gold -
even the concrete dust in the air seems glamourised
and the ruins are decked in the uplifting flags of
democracy.

To start, fillet of Dover sole filled with salmon mousse,
served on a bed of leeks with white wine sauce.
Poached Sandringham venison with truffles to follow,
then Key Lime Pie, and among the wines,
Chateau Pichon-Longueville Comtesse de Lalande, 1990.
Yum-yum. Let the trumpets sound on the bombsite
as the great and the good pick their way through,
and a famished child peers through a bullet-hole in a wall.

Free Palestine__

Explorer Club 9/16/2025 The Trophy Room

At the Explorer Club amidst the trophies. Other than killing millions of insects throughout my life I've only attempted slain one other creature. A seagull at age seven at the end of McKinley Road, Falmouth Foresides. 1959. With my good friend Chaney Noyes. We had taken darts from his house and walked to the bluff overlooking the lowtide mudflats of Portland Harbor. Back then there was a dock for the local fishermen. Seagulls harried the sterns seeking fish. I threw a dart at one. It struck it in the wing. It fluttered to the water or continued to fly away. I never tried tokill anything again, except for cockroaches and mosquitoes.

Peter Freuchen Explorer Club - Trophy Room

My grandmother Edith Hamlin gave me a book BOOK OF THE ESKIMOS by Peter Freuchen. I still have it. Two years ago I was pleased to meet him face to face with his portrait over the trophy room's fireplace at the Explorer Club. Edith Smith was good friends with Marie Peary, the Snowbird, daughter ofAdmiral Robert E Peary, one of the founder's of the club. I had thought my grandfather Frank A Smith had been his doctor in Westbrook, Maine after returning from his stint with the Royal Canadian Medical Expedition in France during World War I, but no one is left in my family who can verify that he might have been on service to the Arctic Explorer. Edith did speak about Marie on her death, bemoaning that Marie, a hard drinker, was going to outlive her. That she did, but I dropped Marie's name at the bar in the club and showed them BOOK OF THE ESKIMOS. I am still a member.

Explorer Club Trophy Room 9/16/2025

Yesterday I was in the explorer's Club. A member in good standing for the past two years. Visiting the trophy room with three friends I told them stories about how the skins and tusks and artifacts arrived here. Hunting and exploring. I myself possess an elephant's foot from Andy Reese, ballet dancer and film maker for Club 57. He bequeathed the item after his passing from AIDS back in the 1980s. In 1991 coming down the west coast of Sumatra I recall hearing a tiger roar in the distance. It sounded like it was behind me. Chills up and town my spine.

I check ed this message and discovered once more that I had misspelled and as adn. A common occurence as I have been blessed with manulysia, dyslexia of the fingers, which mihgt have to do with that I was born a natural lefthander, however the Sisters of St. Joseph at my parochial school south of Boston regarded that as a sin or lámh chlé in Gaelic. My nana called it Kithou, which might have meant something else. I write with my right hand, but deal cards with my left. I resisted change whenever I could.

Sunday, September 14, 2025

Knock Knock It's Henry At The Door -2013

This afternoon I was listening to Michael Pollan on NPR talking about how nobody cooks anymore.

I was cooking chicken and mashed potatoes for dinner in Charlotta's apartment in Clinton Hill.

I still cook.

It's not three-star, but it's better than salty-sweet Chinese take-out from Myrtle Avenue.

I texted my friend Emily Armstrong and the video historian said, "I make smothered pork chops, oat bran apple muffins, and five pounds of mashed potatoes."

That was a lot of mashed and if she lived closer I would have knocked on her door.

In Tropic of Cancer Henry Miller wrote about showing up to his friends' houses at dinner time and upon seeing the food on the table, apologized, but they set him up with a plate. It was a brilliant stratagem for a writer.

And also a plan for any hungry man.

“I have no money, no resources, no hopes. I am the happiest man alive.” ― Henry Miller

15 Minutes For A Nobody 2012

In 1968 Warhol wrote that "In the future, everyone will be world-famous for 15 minutes." for a catalogue of his work in Sweden. Eleven years later Warhol crowed the triumph of his prediction by saying, "My prediction from the sixties finally came true: In the future everyone will be famous for 15 minutes." The statement is more true today than ever, as proven by Anderson Cooper's interview for CNN with Stacey, a member of Pastor Charles Worley's Providence Road Baptist Church in Maiden, North Carolina.

Stacey was unable to answer his questions other than to reiterate her pastor's belief that gay and lesbian people should be put in concentration camps.

"Build a great big large fence 50 or 100 miles long. Put all the lesbians in there. Fly over and drop some food. Do the same thing with the queers and the homosexuals. Have that fence electrified so they can't get out. You know what, in a few years, they'll die out. You know why? They can't reproduce." Pastor Worley with his extermination plan for homosexuality word for word.

The young lady agreed with her pastor, but years ago the mainstream media would have never given legs to this story and certainly not wasted a penny interviewing such a stupid person.

The 24-hour news cycle force-feeds the American public this trash in order to sell Doritos or trucks or the rest of the Chinese-made bullshit that the corporations of America have convinced the masses to buy or else suffer deprivation.

I threw out my TV to be spare such abuse.

Not everyone deserves 15 minutes or 15 seconds of fame.

They are better left in the dust of ignorance.

Normally I'd give the URL to see Stacey speak, but I'm shunning her instead.

"I'm a nobody, are you a nobody too?" Emily Dickerson Lesbian Poet

As for the ever-faithful back to the cow fields of non-fame, where you and all the bible thumpers belong. ps fuck CNN too.

Emily Dickerson Poetry Festival - Amherst

If only I could come To the Emily Dickerson poetry festival To honor Emily Dickerson I would be a nobody With other nobodies Not carrying about the somebodies, Because Being a nobody means n Never to be alone. Only apart. - Pascha Ray

Friday, September 12, 2025

Explorer Club Afternoon - the Trophy Room

ps the elephant foot's name is Stumpy. I once attempted to sell it to an antiquarian store and they said, "Not a chance." I've had it a good forty years, since Andy Reese, ballet dancer, cinenaste, street hustler bequeathed the missing appendage to me. Stumpy temains in the corner of my bedroom.

Wednesday, September 10, 2025

September 10, 2001

I well remember 9/10/2001.

It rained all day in New York.

The day before I had almost gone swimming with my Brotosh diplomat friend, Alia, at Lake Awosting, except the park ranger blocked the path to the old granite sky lake. No one was allowed in the water after Labor Day to avoid legal problems from drunken locals and tourists.

There was no one swimming at the Coney Island or the Rockaways on 9/10/01.

Rain and a lot of it.

I recall turning on the TV and seeing the weather report for the next day.

Sunny cloudless skies and that sounded lovely to me.

ps it's cloudy this 9/10/2025 there is no mention of any swimming incidents at lake Awosting.

Tuesday, September 9, 2025

Full Moon 9/9/2025

I'm back in the city
From Montauk
Riding the subway from Brooklyn to Manhattan
40 baht one way
Old trains
But they have AC and work most of the time
It's the easiest way to travel
On my way to see friends
Back in the city
Not so lonely
I'm seeing old friends
But I am always alone
Without my family
So far away
On the otehr side of the world
I feel like an orphan sometimes
But tonight I will look on the full blood red moon
And know
My family will see that red too
Tomorrow night in Thailand
And I think of our eyes meeting on the moon
Together
A world apart___

MAYBE TOMORROW - A NOVEL

CHAPTER 1

The November sun flashed off a West Village window and the wavering reflection stalked the Christopher Street pier to a lone youth tuning a battered guitar. The blonde twenty year-old broke into a sly smile, as the sapphire shimmer transformed the leather boy into a fallen angel regaining his halo.
Nearly every mother and father in America would have ordered their children to avoid this aberration of the Bicentennial Spirit, for his skin pallor rivaled the paleness of the rising moon and no suburban mall stocked his black leather jacket, torn T-shirt, or heavy engineer boots. Most teenagers would have obeyed their parents’ command, but not all of them.
The heavenly mirage disappeared with a windmill slash against the steel strings of his Les Paul and Johnny Darling shut his eyes to envision a small stage, whose overhead lighting enveloped a drummer, bassist, and keyboard player.
A teenage Lolita rasped words of love and no tomorrows in imitation of the Velvet Underground’s Nico. The imagined feedback of Marshall Amps buzzed in his ears and the audience might have materialized within his eyelids, if a young boy’s voice hadn’t shattered Johnny’s trance.
“Hey, man.”
This time of night only gay bashers and leather freaks frequented the derelict docks and the guitarist waited for the last chords to fade beneath the subsonic range before turning to address the intruder.
The Puerto Rican teenager in a distressed leather jacket was two inches shorter than Johnny and his slanted eyes hinted the taint of Chinese blood.
Some Times Square johns found Frankie Domingo pretty, despite the scars crisscrossing his seventeen year-old body.
“Thanks for letting me finish?”
“I been waiting thirty minutes.” A gust blew a shank of greased hair across Frankie’s eyes. “That a new song?”
“Just three chords strung together.” Johnny’s thumb rubbed his calloused fingertips.
“Doesn’t get more basic than that.” Frankie rattled off a drum roll with frayed sticks.
“Got these from Jerry Nolan at Max’s Kansas City last night.”
“How were the Heartbreakers?” Johnny had skipped the last night’s show to entertain a customer.
“Great and the crowd loved them.” Frankie hunched his shoulders with a shiver.
“They got paid a $100 each. When we gonna have a band?”
“Now I have my guitar back, we can audition for the other members.”
“Great.” Frankie stepped from side to side to relieve the damp seeping through his sneakers’ paper-thin soles and stammered, “Johnny, you got ten dollars?”
“The pawnshop took my last fifty.” Johnny slapped his guitar.
“Damn, I wish we could get out of here.” Frankie moaned like a runaway in need of a dime to phone Mom for a bus ticket home.
“To go where?”
“What about Florida?” Frankie glanced south, as if the Sunshine State lay beyond the New Jersey docks. “How far away is it? Five hours?”
“More like twenty–four if you drive straight.”
“What about by plane?” The young Puerto Rican’s teeth chattered at a 10/10 beat.
“Where we getting the money for two plane tickets?”
“We could hijack a plane. Tell them to give us a million dollars like in DOG DAY AFTERNOON?” Frankie had seen that movie five times on 42nd Street and pumped his fist in the air. “Attica, Attica.”
“Aren’t you forgetting how the cops shoot Pacino’s friend in the head?”
“Movies aren’t real.” Frankie had seen enough of films on 42nd Street.
“DOG DAY AFTERNOON was based on a real bank robbery.”
“It was?”
“Yeah, it didn’t have a happy ending either.” The guitarist grabbed the young boy’s thin arm.
“Your parents live in Florida. That sounds like a ‘happy ever’ after to me. If you called them, they could wire you money to come home?”
“Yes, and tomorrow night we’d be eating my Mom’s homemade apple pie.”
“I love apple pie.” Frankie licked his lips.
“Only one problem.” Johnny gestured toward Manhattan.
“Don’t say what I think you’re going to say.”
“I’m not leaving this behind.”
“Fuck this city?” Frankie spun on his heels and chucked the battered drumsticks into the river. “All I got here are hustles, an empty stomach and the smell of old man’s hands on my skin, and you don’t have it much better.”
Johnny placed the guitar into its case and walked toward the elevated highway.
“I ran away from Florida for the same reason you want to run away from New York.”
“I hope this isn’t an intro to the gypsy lady story.”
“Why not? The first day I arrived here, this fortune teller in the Village read my palm. She said my name was destined to be up in lights.” Johnny stopped on the curb of West Street and turned to Frankie. “Me and you are going to make it here as rock stars.”
“But not tonight.” Frankie kicked an empty beer can into the gutter.
“No, not tonight.” Johnny couldn’t lie to Frankie. “Tomorrow Max’s will put on a turkey feast for us orphans.”
“What about tonight?” Frankie could handle anything as long as he was with Johnny.
“Tonight we go to work.” The uptown light on West Street was changing to green and suburb-bound cars accelerated to catch up with the synchronized signals.
“53rd and 3rd?” Frankie had had his fill of the sissies at those piano bars.
“We’re not competing with midnight cowboys tonight.”
Across the street men prowled the sidewalks in search of nameless sex. There was success for all in the shadows. A few lurked between the trucks parked underneath the elevated highway. It was no mystery how they were celebrating the night before Thanksgiving.
“Times Square then?” Frankie sighed with resignation.
“Times Square is about luck.”
“Luck being heads I win, tails you lose and never give a sucker a break.”
“You’re learn fast.”
“I try.”
“How I look?”Johnny slung the case’s strap over his shoulder and pulled up the collar of his torn leather jacket.
“Like a prince.” Frankie blew on his numb hands.
“Where anyone from Jerome Avenue meet a prince?”
“My grandmother read me fairy tales. They really have princes and princesses?”
“Real as you and me, except they were born in a palace.” The chilled air scrapped over Johnny’s right lung like a boat striking a reef and he touched his chest wishing his fingers could probe beneath his ribs.
“You meet one?” Frankie was oblivious to his friend’s discomfort.
“Not this side of the silver screen.” Johnny fought off the shakes, figuring his ‘jones’ was knocking on the door. “Princes and princesses are like any suckers. We meet one and what we do?”
“We take them for everything.” Frankie snapped his fingers.
“And leave them begging for more.” The ache faded from Johnny’s chest and he draped his arm over the younger boy. “Just one more thing.”
“I know what you’re going to say.” Their conversation were scripted rituals on these occasion.
“You’re going to tell me not to trust anyone.”
“Trust no one is survival rule # 1 in New York.” Times Square killed people who broke that rule and he turned to Frankie. “That means me too.”
“I’m a big boy.” Frankie accepted the warning, for his childhood had revealed the worst of what the New York had to offer the young.
“Then let’s head to Times Square.” Johnny dashed onto West Street.
“Watch out, Johnny.”
Two taxis swerved to avoid hitting the guitarist.
“For what? I’m going to live forever,” Johnny shouted from the other side of the street, for believing in anything other than his immortality would have been a sacrilege, at least until he reached twenty-one and that birthday was more than a year away and a year was an eternity when you were only twenty.

I wrote MAYBE TOMORROW IN 2000. I had been living in Thailand and send the manuscript to various publsihing houses and literary agents via the Thai mail. Probably twenty at $30 a shot. Manuscript, synopsis, and letter of intent. Never a reply and I stopped the process. Twenty-five yeasr later I've decided to challenge the process once more. First thre chapeter, synopsis, bio. A trimmed process. Since July I've sent MAYBE TOMORROW to more than thirty agents in the US and UK and have received two rejections and one request for the full manuscript. Keep your fingers crossed.

Saturday, September 6, 2025

Excerpt BACK AND FORTH - A Novel

A Greyhound bus exited from the Interstate and pulled into the forlorn gas station to let off a few passengers.

"Bus?" AK asked the obvious. They had been waiting at the onramp an hour with a score of other stranded hippies. The couple at the head of the line had been waiting a day for a lift.

"Hell, yes."

AK and Sean grabbed their bags and ran to the diner. The Greyhound billowed diesel fumes. Sean banged on the side of the bus and its driver opened the door. The two of them climbed on board.

"How far we go for $5?" AK pulled out his wallet.

"$4.25 will buy you a ride to Needles."

"Make that two."

"I'll be leaving in ten minutes, so if you want any food or drink, this is your chance."

AK and Sean bought cokes inside the diner and they climbed aboard the cool bus. The driver had a schedule and pulled out of the gas station on time. As they rounded the onramp, they stared out the window at the hippies. Ten minutes ago they had been them.

"Good move." AK finished the Coke.

"You boys look hot." An old black woman across the aisle was peeling an orange.

"We were stuck back there." AK wiped the sweat off his face.

"Hitchhiking?"

"Yep." Sean's dry tongue was glued on single syllables.

"You'd have a lot more luck, if you cut your hair. You look like girls and not pretty girls either." The old black woman laughed with a friendly wickedness. "But these peckerwoods out here ain't too particular about pretty after they drunk. They get too much sun out here and too much sun ain't good for no one."

The old lady handed them each an orange. They sucked on the sweet fruit, as if they might not taste another for a long time.

AK and Sean pored over the map, as the bus sped down I-15.

With each mile the desert became more desert and the window was warm to the touch, even though the bus interior was ACed to Alaska. Two rangy cowboys and the old black woman got off in Barstow and the driver announced that the next stop was Needles, which lay on the west of the Colorado River on I-40. Two and a half hours later the bus pulled into the desert town. Sean counted the number of trees in sight on both hands and said, "The Joad family's first stop in THE GRAPES OF WRATH was Needles." "They drove through the night to avoid the Arizona heat and they arrived here in the morning." AK had written a paper on John Steinbeck in college. "The Calif

Thursday, September 4, 2025

Setember 3, 1978 - Journal - Poem

A seaside resort with Alice

A dream 1978
A seaside resort with Alice
Cape Cod
The cottage a wreck__
Uncle Jack visits with kids
All of them six years-old
He complains,
"This place is a mess."___
His beach house on the Cape
So big

Still
Sand across the wood floors
Aunt Gloria never cleaned anyplace___
Later on the beach

I rescue a child from drowning
I drag him onto a pier
I lose my balance
Fall into the water
Ropes entangle my limbs
House Near Wellfleet, Cape Cod, Massachusetts, 1939 Artist: Wright Morris

Tuesday, September 2, 2025

The Speed of Nothing

An ant on my hand
Life or death
My choice
I choose to do nothing__

A haiku and then not a haiku

To often we feel obliged to act
I choose to do nothing___
When the best course of action is inaction
I blow the ant away__

Of course I have upgraded Sloth from the Seven Deadly Sins to a virtue in revenge for astronomers having downgraded Pluto from planet status. I rejoice in time drifting to and fro like a gentle eddy of a shallow tide without a ripple in the cosmos. Even when I had been beset by impending death I never strayed from doing nothing other than succumb to blissfull brain fogs. I had no other choice, until a NYU nurse offered me a laxative dispelling the ammonia in my brain. Simple as that the fog lifted in weeks. Still at death's door, but aware of how far and how close was time. I promised myself to remain true to my devout belief in godlessness and I have kept my word.

Time never moves faster when you cease caring for its passage.

The Beauty of Doing Nothing

Today from a European time zone a friend Serge Kruger, famed Paris bon vivant, mused on Facebook, "Luckily I like to do nothing."

Je suis avec lui 100%.

According to Wikipedia the English borrowed ennui from French in the 1660s. Ennui came from an Old French word meaning “displeasure.” Ennui was also related to the word annoy, but it really is just a wistful listlessness. Ennui was adopted as the esprit total of the ancien regime whose lives as oppressors over the people of France had become meaningless after Louis XIV

Moi, j'adore de faire rien. Une vrai plaisir

Walter Richard Sicker - Ennui c.1914

To be silent the whole day long, see no newspaper, hear no radio, listen to no gossip, be thoroughly and completely lazy, thoroughly and completely indifferent to the fate of the world is the finest medicine a man can give himself. - Henry Miller

Of course we are all a bundle of contradictions and Miller wrote in Tropic of Canceer, "“In Europe one gets used to doing nothing. You sit on your ass and whine all day. You get contaminated. You rot.”

I am much ,ore at ease with doing nothing than Henry Miller. This morning I laid in bed until noon without questioning that state, then again I had worked six days in a row. It's not the work that is hard, but having to be around people. Congress with poeple is always more problematic than ennui. Here are some definitions of ennui - pathetic, careless, dull, inattentive, indifferent, lackadaisical, lethargic, passive, sleepy, tired, and weary. These sound as if they had been written by busybodies, who can't enjoy doing nothing

I would addd Slothful to their list, except I consider Sloth a blessing and no longer one of the Seven Deadly Sin.

Oh Sweet Nothing - The Velvet Underground.

Monday, September 1, 2025

THE RULE OF MR. KLAUS by Peter Nolan Smith / Anthony Scibelli

In the early 70s the Twin Towers rose over Lower Manhattan with the promise of a bright future, but by 1975 New York City was declared bankrupt and seven million people lived on the edge of anarchy.
The project's landfill created a desolation along the Hudson. The wind curled around the Twin Towers to blow sand in all directions and the middle class fled the city by the thousands.
The rich cared nothing for the poor and every morning wealthy passengers flew on faster-than-sound Concordes from JFK to Paris and London. Sean Coll heard the daily take-off in his East Village apartment. The Rolls-Royce engines were that loud.
Sean lived with a blonde catalogue model in his tenement apartment. For some reason he thought she loved him. Like most men he confused lust with love. Lisa liked playing hard to get and she knew that role well. Days photographers shot her with cameras. At night she dated a tennis player and came home at dawn. Lisa liked playing hard to get and she knew that role well. At night Lisa dated a tennis player. She came home at dawn. Sean never asked any questions, because the answers were too obvious.
When people wanted things, they called Sean.
Sometimes it was a girl. Plenty of fun girls roamed New York. They did things for money, because everything had a price.
The clients were usually were happy with his work.
Other times people got cute.
Cute got people hurt. In the end playing nice was in people's best interest.
Sean came from Boston. He had a reputation. It wasn't a good one either.
At a party Tony, a photographer, introduced Mr. Klaus. Sean was not in best form. Lisa had not come home for two days. "I might have some work for you," the German businessman explained. "But I have one # 1 rule. You do what I say."
Lisa had not come home for two days and Sean had not been in his best form.
"I might have some work for you." Mr. Klaus said with a German accent. "But I have one rule. You do what I say." "I don't have a problem with that. You know my price?" "Yes." "Then call me, when you need me, but not tonight."
A day later Mr. Klaus asked Sean to meet a woman named Clover at the New Lost Bar in Times Square. Tony came over with a wad of twenties. Sean gave him a finder's fee and asked, "You trust this Klaus?" "I trust no one."
Sean showed up on time. Clover arrived ten minutes late. The blonde teenager was no woman, but she was no girl either and she explained, "I was a mistress to a Texas oil baron at 13. Does that make me bad?"
"No, but it doesn't make you good. Let's have a drink." Sean ordered a gin-tonic. Clover had a martini. The bartenders at the New Lost Bar never checked any girls for ID.
"Do some of this." She handed him a vial. "Mr. Klaus wants you to." "Do you always do what he says?" She smiled with a laugh. "When it comes to Mr. Klaus, yes." Clover danced on the bar table or at least Sean thought it was Clover. In truth it didn't matter, because Lisa had been erased from his mind.
By the time they left the New Lost Sean was feeling no pain and Times Square looked like a pinball machine with Clover as the flippers and him as the ball.
Somehow they ended up in the subway.
Sean asked the conductor for help. "You don't need any help, if you got her." New Yorkers were experts at minding their own business.
The next stop was Mr. Klaus' penthouse. "Willkommen, time for some changes." Sean didn't like Mr. Klaus's welcome, but he was in no condition to refuse the scientist anything.
Sean was in no condition to refuse him.
Clover had her way with him.
Afterwards Mr. Klaus asked, "Do you feel different?" "No." It was a lie. "Gut, I have a job for you. It might require violence." "I wouldn't be here, if it didn't." "An ex-associate has something of mine." "What?"
"A ball on a box in a refrigerator." "And you only want the ball?" "Ja." "What does the ball do?" "Does it really matter?" "No." "Clover really likes you." Where is she?" "She is upstairs. You will see her later."
Mr. Klaus drove him to a luxurious townhouse on the Upper East Side. The street was quiet. The rich could afford order even in a city of chaos. "That's Cookie's house. I'll take care of her." "And me?"
"There's a man with a gun." "Does he know who to use it." "No." "Then he is just a man. Kill him." "That costs more." Sean was many things, but not a killer.
"Maybe, but things will go bad for Clover." Klaus showed a photo. It was Tony's style.
He had others. Klaus was worse than Clover's Texas oil baron. "Bring me the ball." "I will." Sean didn't say how.
The man with the gun was a young boy. Sean strangled him to unconsciousness. He was too young to die and too pretty too.
The steel ball seemed like a steel ball.
Sean held it in his hand. He saw things. One was that he could break Mr. Klaus' rule.
On the stairs Mr. Klaus had a blonde bound by a rope. Cookie. She looked tough. Sean nodded to her.
Cookie yanked on the rope. Mr. Klaus tumbled down the stairs. He didn't stop until the bottom. Sean left with the ball. He was his own man again.
Sean found Clover in a bag. He called a taxi and wrote on her thigh before freeing her. "I thought you'd never come back." "You were wrong." "What did you write?" "A poem. You can read it later."
Sean took her to his place. Lisa was gone. She had taken everything, except for the TV and a set of weights. "Nice apartment."
Clover picked up a dumbbell. "I want to be strong like you." It was a good idea. New York was a tough town for the weak.
Sean turned on the TV. Clover read the words on her thigh. "I like your poem." "I wrote it for you." Her smile told him that she would be a good roommate.
He had the ball and he had Clover.
And both were good things in 1978, because like the sand by the river New York had no rules # 1 for the good, the bad, and the in-between. Fotos by Anthony Scibelli and Peter Nolan Smith Story and Art Direction by Peter Nolan Smith