September 4, 1978 - Journal - Labor Day

Nothing happening today. No invitations to BBQs, but it's still early and Alice and I are still recovering from our cocaine night with Guadacanal. Yesterday afternoon I went over to his apartment and knocked on his door. His frail from DC answered the door in underwear. Only the bottom. She said nothing and returned to the bedroom. My friend was at the table packing palstic bags with grams. He was wearing a mask and motioned for me to sit.

" Thanks for the other night. I woke up in the emergency room without any idea how I got there. Still don't, but I figured you got me there."

"I threw you over my shoulder and carried you to 1st Avenue to get us a taxi, then brought you to Bellevue. I left after seeing you were in good hands,"

"Was I close?"

"You were beyond dead, but you got back in one piece."

"A miracle thanks to you."

"How you feeling?"

"Hard to tell. You want a line?"

I shook my head. He cuffed me a gram. I took it to sell later. I needed the money more then the blow. Walking home I stop at Gem Spa to buy the Times and ordered a chocolate egg cream. The Red Sox had lost to the Yankees 15-3 last night. I had watched the first innings at Grassroots. My home team looked dreadful. Yaz is hurt. They all look banged up and the Yanks keep winning.

On St. Mark's a runaway poodle begs food. I have none. Only the egg cream and cocaine, I give it neither. It 's cooler than Sunday with gray skies promising rain and an early autumn. It had been a hot August in the East Village. I only have a levi jacket. Three sweaters. Same as last winter and sneakers for footgear. Rent is over due. I called my landlord, Jerome Golding, to say we'd have the $183 this week. I'm sure I can get $100 for the gram, covering my half, plus my landlord wants me to paint his Upper East Side penthouse's bedroom and boudoir. I said yes, but worry about screwing up. I'll have to put down a lot of drop clothes. I don't need any mistakes. Another probelm is that I should be looking for real work instead of spening my nights at CBGBs. A day job. Steady income. Winter isn't far away.

Back at the apartment, I told Alice that Guadacanal had survived his near death experience.

"He wouldn't have survived, if you hadn't taken half that line. I'm off that shit." She lay on the bedroom futon. The fan did little to clear the air.

"Me too." I hoped it wasn't a lie.

I went to living room and turned on the TV. Nothing on. No old movies or sporting events. Eight channels of nothing. Not even wrestling or the Three Stooges on The UHF channels. I get up and shut it off. I have no money. $10. More once I sell the blow. It keeps calling my name. I don't answer its call.

That evening I went to CBGBs only to find it closed for tax reasons. Hillary hadn't paid his debt to society. I sold the gram to Anthony Scibelli, who was in Phebe's with Frank Holiday. I hadn't even touched the stuff until now. The two huffed lines at the bar. I left them befoer I joined them.

I walked across the Village to Alice's restaurant. She wasn't getting off until 1.

"I'll see you later, hon."

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May 13, 1978 - East Village - Journal

Walking through Soho's deserted streets Ro asked what my intentions were.

"What you want me to do?"

I wanted to say nothing, because nothing is what I normally want to do other than to have sex with her in an alley, but she is not that kind of woman. My wanting to not doing anything is not apathty, just sloth. Sensing my silence she asked, "Name me five things you want me to do."

I couldn't answer that question right then. I wasn't going to bamboozled her with insane misinformation. She's too emotional be involved with the revolution.

Later

Political goals

First: A moneyless society. Money controls the slavery of man, except with the Eskimo or South Sea Society where money doesn't exist. There is no money on Star Trek.

Number Two: Going to the Stars. Too many people here are devoted to the collective human suicide. We will only live with the hope of going to the Stars. As the biker Eddie Mickee said, "When the shit gets a foot high, step a foot higher."

Three: Equality. For all races, ages, and sexes. The Founders of this nation declared, "All men are created equal." although a large percentage of the thirteen colonies' population were enslaved and the tribes had no rights at all otehr than extermination. No sense in freeing whites of theirtheir racism, unless we go for their children.

Four: The ennobling of Homo Sapiens To render us neanderthal and loving.

Speaking to Ro in the evening, she asked, "Are you going to wait for a revolution?"

"The revolution is now."

The Revolution will arise from obscurity without anyone ever know it's coming until it's there or else the government will squash the secret known only to those who believe. It's not a disco party or punk and we will promote life unlike the capitalists."

"You are not a dreamer. You are mad."

I pull her into a doorway.

I am not trapped by bankers enslaving people with mindless economic debt. I will never pay my college loans geared to back the war of the Pentagon. I will not vote for politicians who love racist societies to control the people. The people want the death of the human race a Nuclear Holocaust. The culling of billions zero population growth complimenting the Death Cult of Capitalism.

Later

I entered Alice's apartment quietly. She had said she wanted to be with me before she left for her grandmother's funeral. I spooked her and she shuddered with fear. She started crying and I held her in my arms. Tomorrow she will fly out of LaGuardia Airport. I have never flown out of New York. My trips home to Boston have been either by the bus, train, or hitchhiking.

Tomorrow should be gone I will miss her.

She's gained a little weight and has no appetite for sex. I hope she isn't be coming asexual or lesbian. Lately both practices of such an abnormal practice as asexuality bring up fearful memories of the Russian castration sects or Coptic monks two groups again be popular or even the Shakers

I asked her you want to marry me.

"I don't want to get married, do you?"

"Not really but it seems to be something was supposed to till death other than life."

I can't shake death's grip. I'm not looking forward to death. I want to live forever.

Television strangely is on the radio. I drink a watery bourbon hoping for more words get off of this pen. I should be grateful with what I'm writing, but it all seems so tedious.

Alice says she should go on the $20,000 Pyramid, then added, "My grandmother might have left me some money. I was her favorite. I never saw her in the her nursing home. My father said that was for the best"

Yesterday on 42nd Street my right thumb in my finger went numb. No feeling, then a throbbing pulse almost as if I was brought back to life.

Later

I'm concerned with time the passing of time. I don't want to get old. I don't want to be an adult. I want to be 15 again like Xcessive. The punk Peter Pan. I get to sleep just to be always awake. I want to fuck Alice, but not now

Liar.

I want to fuck her too now

Later

The Stanley Cup Bruins versus Canadiens

I'm only 26. I can still enlist in the Navy. I have no job. I have no future. My older brother Frank warned, "Don't be crazy."

At 16 I wanted to join the Marines to leave my hometown. Not to kill anyone. The only people I wanted to kill were the teens in my town. Not the Viet Cong. Back then I met someone at the Quincy Quarries just returned from Vietnam. He said it was all a lie.

May 24, 1978 - Kiev Diner - Journal

Alice woke up screaming. She had been dreaming a horrifying remake of THE TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE. Awake she shuddered in my arms. Poor darling.

THE KIEV DINER

A Ukrainian diner
Sitting with Clover
A blonde runaway
Only sixteen
A little more than a friend.
4:28 AM
The after-hours crowd from CBGBs
Mindless
No one caring about the mindlessness
Rejects from destiny
Cups of coffee In their pale hands
Not wanting to be junkie zombies
But Vampires
To live forever
All victims exiled to the suburbs.
Rock and roll, sex, drugs.
Trapped by the will be
That never will be.
And living in the dreams of 1978.
Free stoned and punks.
Especially Clover
Sixteen
Free
From nothing and everything.

December 29, 1978 - East Village - Journal

Dallas over Atlanta and the Steelers over Denver, the post season nears the yearly climax to the NFL, Super Bowl XIII, the league using Roman numerals to pretend this blood sport has a link the the gladiator games of the Roman Empire.

Alice returns tomorrow via a flight from Charleston WVA. In times for the New Year, although I have made no plans for the celebration. It's amateur night with millions across the country and billions around the globe cancel their inhibition and drink themselves into a frenzy to welcome in 1979. The last year of this decade.

We started the decade with Vietnam and Nixon and LSD and rock and roll and revolution. We now have Carter and cocaine and disco and complacency. Morte Morte morte.

December 21, 1978 - East Village - Journal

GG Barnums was good fun last evening, especially dancing between a glamorous queen and ballerina; Shannon and Dove. Shannon stuck poppers under my nose and Dove too, whispering 'fuck me, fuck her' in all seriousness dancing to Chic's FREAK. Grant and John joined us in the dance orgy. It had been a long time since I enjoyed myself in a disco. GG Barnums offers another higher plane of perversion; shem/him/she. Dancing underneath the trans trapeze artists in sequined bikinis swing through th air. Grant felt a little out of place, because none of the men were interested in gay sex, but wanted stick pussy. Same as me.

I wasn't fucked enough to escape my hang-ups, but submitted to the touch and caress of the cluster pseudo-fuck. Shannon gives me a line. We went into the toilet, but there were too many people to do anything without 5heir involvement.

I first became acquainted with queens through Hubert Selby Jr.'s LAST EXIT FOR BROOKLYN. One of the tragic heroines, Georgette, sadly tastes someone else's ass on her boyfriend's cock. They liked getting fuck hard in the novel. I jerked off to it more than a couple of times and back at the bar I allowed Shannon to fondle my cock sheathed by my jeans.

"I want you to jam your cock down my throat. I want your cock in my ass. Get me a beer."

I hadn't gotten an erection and left soon after. Rain outside. I walked through post-midnight Times Square. Alone. No sluts, no whores, no queers, only wet perverts hoping for the impossible. I take the R train south to the East Village.

December 13, 1978 - East Village - Journal

I was born in Boston.

Raised on Falmouth Foresides
And the South Shore.
In 1976
I left for good.
New York bound,
Two years now
Yet I miss New England

The White Mountains
The Maine Coast
Old Orchard Beach,
Portland's Eastern Promenade
The two old schooners rotting off Wicassett

Decaying river towns;
Lowell, Manchester, Saco, Chicopee, White River Junction
Beaches,
Nantasket, Wollaston, Horseneck Beach, Truro,
Cape Ann, Gloucester, Marblehead, the Beverly Salem Bridge

Lobstah, fried clams, Italian Sandwiches, and damned Chowdah.

From Lake Champlain across the Green Mountains
To the Connecticut River

Over the White Mountains
On the The Kancamagus Highway

Down to Newport and Across the Block Island.
New England. Oh New England.

Bridgeport, New Haven, New London.
We are not New York.

South of Boston

The Blue Hills
Swimming in the Quincy Quarries,
Tramping to the top of Chickatawbut
At 517 feet to the east
Big Blue to the west
635 feet.
Nothing taller from Key West to Mount Cadillac in Acadia
Just Blue Hill Tower
The hills of my youth
Of my teen years
Sex with Linda Imhoff
Long-legged
Shaven clean
Twenty -six
Us
Naked in the back seat of a VW
Possible
Not Easy
But possible
At Eighteen atop Rattlesnake Hill.
No forests
Fifteen generation trees
Stone farm walls
Tumbled by the frost
Bog ponds and swamps
My home town.
Forever New England.

May 23, 1978 I - East Village - Journal

I was at the Cornelius Street Cafe with Alice Kim Amos and Serena, Sean's wannabe girlfriend. We are making plans for the four Gemini party. Amos Kim Serena and me. At Kim's Bleecker Street apartment. We have given out over a hundred invitations that's CBGBs, work bars, and restaurants.

My back was to the door which I never like always worried that someone with whom I had a fight they hit me in the back of the head like Jack McCall shooting Wild Bill Hitchcock in Deadwood while he was holding the dead man's hand.

A finger poked me in the back in the mystery voice said, "What doing here?"

It was wrong being very plain but you lost that I'm a bitch protect myself look. She looked very vulnerable and has since coming back from Paris. Our past barely crossed in our meetings dance really last more than a minute.

Talking to my friends everybody but Alice later scolded me, "You never introduced me to anyone."

"Ro, this is Alice."

I said without explaining who was who Ro was to me. Basically I wanted to shield Alice from knowing that I was still in love with Ro. Maybe not now but maybe yes.

"We're planning a birthday party."

"Am I invited"

"I'll tell you later/ You have the same telephone number right. 255-3035."

Across the old man hold on her jacket. I said nothing and then asked, "Are you thinking of fuckign her?"

"No, I have you."

Kim ever mischievous asked, "Who was that?" The next fuck of yours."

"Who isn't?"

Chemistry more than a few alliances set a word to Alice. I've never said a word what about hers. In many ways they only exist for sex to be shared fucking someone else.

Marooned in the city Seeks exits Once disguised As walls To stand on an Eastern ocean seeing Atlantis Beneath the waves He deserts the city To wade in the tide.

I was in north of the Arctic the resort fully mechanized early decor for several days rumbles have been felt there are no natives to this island the researchers say it happens

This one day there was an extreme Quake shaking me up to a friend's house on top of a hill and beneath his house was a widening crack look down the hill at the ocean surf was unusually rough somehow Antarctic was ending

My friend brought his wife and child his yard we boarded and took to the Sea through the heavy Breakers. The other inhabitants of the island ignore the signs. It was too late anyway Wild tremors and the island split into pieces which slipped into the sea The water took on a glass effect glass with Swirls and curls usually High thin

A whale shark we try to go faster and filling our sales Dream City

The monster was upon us the auto part is lost at my legs torn off but a nearby ship rescued us and I was saved along with my friend's wife and child. Wife was Alice

Fix my legs became a sheep herder. I won't attack my flocks Until it detects Alice then I killed it

Alice sup with me during these dreams. she has gained weight but it's still very cute like a young Shirley MacLaine. I loved her in the movie the apartment, but not in a sexual way.

When she woke, when she woke she felt her stomach and said, maybe I should get pregnancy test and

Later

On the 26th floor the Ebasco the rest of the waiter staff for the executive dining room it's not a Papas plot to the Protestants like having waiting on them the subjugation of the peons I don't understand a single word they say

You smoke Marlboro said the drinks man to Antonio farro Toro Antonio are fighting about the position of the Bermuda Triangle wanting to have it down to Puerto Rico photos in Panama Farrell being a sailor is adamant as to where it is it is the entire ocean ships sink under the water they are gone is perfect for an artist .

December 8, 1978 - East Village - Journal

Last night I stayed out late on the streets, sleazing from Max's to CBGBs and then to the Crow's Nest on Avenue A to shove quarters into the illegal slot machine. A loser. No one wins on that thief. I ended up at a go-go dancer's apartment. Carol Smith and I snorted coke, but I restrained from fucking her, worried about a soft dick and coming back to Alice smelling of someone else, then remembered that Alice was staying at her friend, Susan's loft. Carol gave me $20 to suck my dick.

"I don't care you're not hard. I just feel like it."

After I came in her mouth, she gave me $20.

I thanked her and left wanting more. Sex not money.

Bodega workers were opening various businesses on First Avenue in the soft gray before the dawn. Darkness was surrendering to a rainy dawn. THe streetlights had yet to shut off. Feet slapping on the concrete behind me. Too close and I looked over my shoulder. A white boy. Brad, Clover's pseudo-brother/hustler and I asked, "Have you heard from Clover."

"Not since she left for Germany." I had received two postcards. From Berlin and Poland. "How's it going?"

"It sucks. I had to walk here from 53rd and 3rd?"

"No action." The Loop on 53rd and 3rd supported boys with money for sex from older men. Brad was near-sighted, a blessing for hustlers when shadows don't hide the ugliness of tricks. "I stood untaken by the few creeps like no one wanted to get fucked or sucked or fuck me."

"Tragic."

We walked together to for a few blocks, taking the turn on East 10th Street. Even the sinse dealers on the corner had retired for the night.

Brad asked for money. I wasn't giving him anything.

"Sorry, I don't have."

"Can I suck you off?"

"No, I'm not into that anymore."

"Too bad, I'm really good."

"I'm sure you are."

I left him on the stairs and climbed three flights to my empty apartment. No Alice. Not even her scent on the pillows. She was really leaving me.

Later

I phoned my baby brother Michael in Amherst to wish him a belated Happy Birthday. He answered with a groggy night. After my evening I must have sounded the same, because he was unable to recognize my voice at first.I warned him about Mark Amitin.

"He said you two had spoken. He's not to be trusted."

"We spoke about the theater a little, because he talked at length about sex. He never mentioned you, but he was creepy about my staying with him and I wondered, if you had sold me into sex slavery."

"Not a chance. If you come to New York, stay with me." I was pissed at Amitin, but I was surprised at his backstabbing intrigue. Other than theater his only love is sex.

"Don't worry, I can take care of myself."

"I know."

As a young man I had wondered about Michael sexual orientation, which was confirmed by coming home to my parents' house and discovering him dragged out as much younger version of my mother.

"Happy birthday. See you at Christmas."

"With Alice?"

"Who knows."

I hung up remembering holding him as a baby in my arms and thought about Alice and I having a child on the way. Anything was possible