Pride 2017: We Are Family


If you live in San Francisco, June 24 is Pride Day.

I will be out all weekend loving life and taking pictures.

I dedicate this video to the men and women of the American Civil
Rights Movements
.

We are all religions, races and nationalities. We are gay, straight and transgender.

We will never return to our closets.

We are everywhere and we will never give up.

I chose “We are Family” by Sister Sledge because it’s a happy and
hopeful song.

I first made this video for Pride Month 2016.

We are always stronger together!

Now get up everybody and sing!

 

If I turned around every time somebody called me a faggot, I’d be walking backward – and I don’t want to walk backward.”
– Harvey Milk

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A Flight of Ideas: Johnny

Johnny is soft around the middle but that doesn’t bother Pattie.

She nibbles some bits and waits for him to finish his show.

Pattie scrolls through her news feed:

“Today in an action reminiscent of the worst excesses of the
1960’s a feminist icon burst into flames!”

“Oh me, oh my,” Patti sighs, “I’m so nuts and so obnoxious!”

Johnny weeps with Miss America as Ms. Arkansas is crowned.

Ms. Congeniality stalks across the stage to snatch her check
from the emcee.

“I will use my beauty to feed the World!”  Ms. Arkansas sobs.

The crowd goes wild with sincerity

…as a chorus of angels goes  Ooooooooooh….

(c) Rob Goldstein 1989-2017 Image 2017 All Rights Reserved

Into the Pink

A human being is a part of a whole, called by us ‘universe’, a part limited in time and space. He experiences himself, his thoughts and feelings as something separated from the rest… a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness.  This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and to affection for a few persons nearest to us. Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature in its beauty.

Albert Einstein

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300.6

God is selfish with his stash
of bodies; he snatches us
away
without notice.

(c) Rob Goldstein 2017 All Rights Reserved

Golem

For the Old Testament which I lied upon and spent the rest
of that year in Hell.

For paintings of Moses white against volcanic ash!

For Isaac who me wonder and Jacob who made me wonder; together we went to Temple where I refused to learn Hebrew and the teacher called me retarded.

For Rabbi Padol, who smoked in the Tabernacle and made the girls giggle as dust settled on the Torah, which I kissed and sneezed, and kissed and sneezed, until my Bar Mitzvah, (that ceremony in English) and later received hats and a checking account.

That Passover Sunday the dogwood was in bloom and I found
a litter of dead puppies in the front yard.

I pitched a tee-pee over the corpses and said Adonoi three times.

That year I thought of sacrifice and God’s ruthless lust for proof!

I thought of the Lamb: how he bellows, “Look what I did for you!” extending his bloody palms.

(c) Rob Goldstein, poem July 1986, image June 2017

A Flight of Ideas: Secret Obscenities

Life wept and sent me into crisis.

An arm around my shoulder, the doctor gave counsel:

He says, if I take my pills, I will forget my grief, I will be happy.

He says, the Lord is in my heart, if I search it, I’ll find him, and he’ll save me.

He says, if I climb the right steps, I’ll be normal, if I talk about it: this thing I can’t mention.

My lies are those of one who doesn’t trust, and so I fear
that unless the lying stops, I will —

become the prank who attends his own funeral, mingling
with the mourners, and whispering secret obscenities.

(c)text Rob Goldstein 1984, image Rob Goldstein 1917

Gestures

Crazy Mothers, crazy fathers, everyone saving each other
bleeding phone calls to cousins who call uncles who call
brothers; from San Francisco to Michigan, everyone knows
you’re not doing well.

I don’t know what Michigan looks like.

I imagine a perfect square.

There are several thousand squares in Michigan called lawns.

There is a lake: its water flows from corner to corner.

 

(c) Rob Goldstein November 08, 1984 All Rights Reserved

 

Newt Gingrich and The Art of the Smear

In 1995 GOPAC was a right wing group chaired by Newt Gingrich.

Gingrich produced a handout called Language: A Key Mechanism
of Control
.

It was a list of 113 words for use in attacks on progressive ideas
and democrats.

“Words and phrases are powerful,” wrote Gingrich.

“…memorize as many as possible and remember that like any tool, these words will not help if they are not used.”

“Apply these (words) to the opponent, their record, proposals, and their party.”

The words on his list were: “traitors, betray, sick, pathetic, lie, liberal, radical, hypocrisy, corruption, permissive attitude, greed, self-serving, ideological, anti-flag, anti-family, anti-child, anti-jobs, unionized bureaucracy, impose, and coercion.”

 

Art by Rob Goldstein
from Language: A Key Mechanism of Control by Newt Gingrich

 

Republicans branded Democrats as, “sick, pathetic, incompetent, liberal traitors whose self-serving permissive attitudes promote a unionized bureaucracy and an anti-flag, anti-family, anti-child, anti-job ideology.”

Plus:

• abuse of power
• anti- (issue): flag, family, child, jobs
• betray
• bizarre
• bosses
• bureaucracy
• cheat
• coercion
• “compassion” is not enough
• collapse(ing)
• consequences
• corrupt
• corruption
• criminal rights
• crisis
• cynicism
• decay
• deeper
• destroy
• destructive
• devour
• disgrace
• endanger
• excuses
• failure (fail)
• greed
• hypocrisy
• ideological
• impose
• incompetent
• insecure
• insensitive • intolerant
• liberal
• lie
• limit(s)
• machine
• mandate(s)
• obsolete
• pathetic
• patronage
• permissive attitude
• pessimistic
• punish (poor …)
• radical
• red tape
• self-serving
• selfish
• sensationalists
• shallow
• shame
• sick
• spend(ing)
• stagnation
• status quo
• steal
• taxes
• they/them
• threaten
• traitors
• unionized
• urgent (cy)
• waste
• welfare

To be clear, Newt Gingrich and the Republican Party did not offer 113 new policies the GOP might write to win an honest political debate.

The GOP  chose to poison our politics by smearing Democrats and suppressing the vote.

Today the GOP violates Democratic norms.

Today the GOP writes cruel legislation in secret, and spreads Russian style propaganda in political ads.

Today, Newt Gingrich is a propagandist for Vladimir Putin.

In American Democracy the people are the government.

As citizens we pay taxes into a common fund which we use to promote the
public good.

The public good is public education, housing, healthcare, and nutrition for
our children.

We provide access to these essentials because a person without class
mobility is not truly free.

These are my daily affirmations, repeat after me:

Smear campaigns are not public policy

Words have meaning.

I will not be conned.

Government is instituted for the Common Good
Quote from John Addams

(c) Rob Goldstein 2015-2017

Quote from John Adams found on Twitter

 

 

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A Letter from Home: When My Alternates Talk to Each Other

For those who don’t know my blog, I have DID and a small family
of alternates.

One of my alternates is a 16 year old boy and the other is a
woman named Sara.

They know each other; Sara is a protector and Mother figure.

I found this letter from Bobby to Sara composed in 2010  with her reply.

I am surprised by the correspondence because I didn’t know
my alternates were friends and allies.

The logic of Dissociative Identity Disorder is that ‘split’ aspects
of the self are perceived as “other”.

I think that Sara was the first alternate, which means she
emerged in childhood.

She comes out when one of the younger alters feels threatened.

 

There are many letters filed under ‘Letters from Home”.

Most of these are from Bobby to Bob.

Bobby wrote this to Sara as a 15-year-old.

It is the only letter from Bobby to Sara.

Her reply follows this post.

dear sara,

i’m at battery park in Charleston watching an old guy with a
big box of crackers.

he’s feeding it to a flock of pigeons.

it reminds me of the story of exodus.

you reckon god threw manna at us a watched
us fight?

sometimes i think life is magic but grown ups don’t
wanna talk about magic.

ok, so, i got a question:

let’s say one day u meet someone an this person sez they got alotta  love for you an wanna do good by you but somethin’ dont feel right but you need to be loved an the dude seems straight up but there’s a shadow that you don’t really see but you know it’s there and it feels familiar.

but you don’t want to lose the love so u try to make room for  the shadow by telling yourself it ain’t there, when bam!

you catch the dude in a lie, like when we was robby, with nasty secrets, an the cruel bruises and words that slice your soul.

so you try to talk about it cuz you wanna believe it’s all in your head  so you say to the dude that says he loves you, you say: “i’m scared  that somethin’ is wrong.”

right away he starts calling me names an saying i’m a hater an that i ain’t got no gratitude cuz most folks don’t even want to know me an i think, “damn! this feels familiar!”

the only person that will ever love me will leave if i try to talk about these shadows that are now everywhere so i get confused, cuz I really  want it to be me, cuz maybe i’m imagining it, cuz maybe i’m a hater an  everything about me is wrong.

sara, are those shadows really there?

and i got one last question about thinking life is magic.

how come when i say i think the world is made of magic folks tell me to get over it and grow up?

Love,

Bobby

A Letter from Home: Dear Bobby

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An Interview with Harold Norse, Part 2, Final: Who Turns These Wheels

I’d considered calling this section ‘Bobby and Harold’ because the voice on the tape is Bobby’s.

Bobby always has a Southern accent.

After closing the earlier discussion of identity, Bobby asks Harold about his habit of falling in love with hustlers.

Harold is reluctant to discuss this at first but Bobby presses him so he begins by saying that he feels compassion for hustlers because so many of them are

He says he weeps when he hears reports of child abuse on the news and wonders if he’s become a ‘weepy old man.’

He describes the violent night he threatened to kill his abusive stepfather.

He was 13.

Later in the interview, Bobby reminds Harold of his first words when Bobby first entered the Cottage on Albion Drive: ‘Who turns these wheels.’

Photograph of Rob Goldstein taken by Nina Glaser in 1986
Rob Goldstein by Nina Glaser in 1986-I wore black all the time as a symbol of my grief over the AIDS Epidemic.

Working on these tapes was painful because this is audio evidence of my DID.

At one point in the interview Norse suggests that he was aware of the DID:

Bobby: You used to accuse me of having no memory and I used to say I remember things verbatim; you never believed me.

Norse: It was not for that that I used to accuse you of having no memory. It was for something else…

Bobby: Oh, I remember, it was for my kleptomania. Go ahead.

Norse: No. That’s denial. That’s part of your character.

Bobby didn’t know what Norse meant and didn’t pursue it.

I don’t remember writing an interview with Harold Norse for the Bay Area Reporter and my memories of Harold Norse feel second-hand.

I don’t know what Bobby means when he says he was a hustler and a kleptomaniac.

This numbing and amnesia is the pain of Dissociative Identity Disorder.

Sadly, I don’t remember how it felt to have the friendship and respect of
someone as brilliant as Harold Norse was.

It sounds like we enjoyed each other immensely.

Please note:

When I turned the tape over I unknowingly enabled a ridiculous option
that stops the machine when it senses silence. The result is a little choppy.
I did my best to smooth it out.

To hear the beginning go to An interview with Harold Norse, Part 1, Section 1

(C) Rob Goldstein 2017 All Rights Reserved

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Quicksand or Time

kneel into

self

as thick as

quicksand

or time

as short as

life

the mind goes

fritz!

and still soft

words

are the fashion

is the suck-off

are the

dreams

of

more me

of me

on the street

stretching

absorbed

into

niches

where the

envious

self

fails, extending

contempt

to the

“worthless”

to the

owner

of a sleeping

bag whose

mind has

snapped —

onto mine.

 

(c) Rob Goldstein 2014-2017

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Manipulation Without Contempt is Submission

I hover above a knoll of withered grass
where lizards skinned as angels point
at the dying and laugh.

This is God’s little acre for twisted souls
where manipulation without contempt
is submission.

(c) Rob Goldstein 2017 All Rights Reserved

Heroes of the Revolution: Patrick Cowley

Art by Rob Goldstein
The Rainbow Flag

Patrick Cowley was a gay liberationist who died as his brilliance was reaching its peak.

He is sometimes called the father of electronic dance music.

His influence is still clear in contemporary house music and techno.

Cowley played synthesizer on Sylvester’s 1978 hits “You Make Me Feel (Mighty Real)” and “Dance (Disco Heat)” and he collaborated with Sylvester on his 1982 hit, “Do Ya Wanna Funk”

At 32, Patrick Cowley was among the first to die from the AIDS Epidemic.

Going Home is on the last track of Mind Warp, Cowley’s last album.
Cowley released Mind Warp in October of 1982, a month before he died from AIDS, which was still called GRID.

Cowley’s music embodies the energy and defiance that sparked and sustained the early Gay Liberation Movement.

“The rights of every man are diminished when the rights of one man are threatened.”
John F. Kennedy

Liberating the human mind and human sexuality from the constraints of fear, bigotry, hate, and superstition is what gay liberation was about.

The revolution is never over!

Happy Pride Month!

‘The City” (c) Rob Goldstein 2016

PATRICK COWLEY
Going Home 1982
by DISCOS BOLICHEROS
Internet Archive

Sylvester
“Do You Wanna Funk” 1982
by DISCOS BOLICHEROS
Internet Archive

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“It’s not about Republicans and Democrats. They’re coming after America.”

There is no Left or Right when it comes to protecting our freedoms.

“It’s not about Republicans and Democrats. They’re coming after America.” ~ James Comey, about Russia.

A Flight of Ideas: Aloha

There is a commotion among the staff when a patient’s
mind collapses: they surround her to contain the chaos.

That patient is my Mother and I cannot stand her pain.

She screams in her restraints and a voice whispers that I
am a woman strapped to a stretcher but I know better
and eat my oatmeal.

Billy watches TV and rubs his dick when no one is looking.

Hollywood Squares is on, and Paul Lynde says something
faggy and the audience titters.

When the show is over Billy goes to his room with a
glistening stain on his jeans.

Sometimes I want to taste it to see if we taste alike.

One day I asked Judy if all men taste alike and she said
the question was inappropriate.

I asked so I could watch her pale little cheeks blush
at the depth of my depravity.

These days I’m two or three separate people.

We live on separate planets named for the gods
of destruction.

My planet is Aloha; named for the Goddess of
Marketable Love.

(c) Rob Goldstein 2017 All Rights Reserved

One Night at Hula’s

you swirled in
as a flame
all-consuming;

nothing was
left after
you passed.

You touched
me and I was
ash.

 

(c) Bob Goldstein, Honolulu 1981 All Rights Reserved

The Devil on the Headboard

The Devil on the headboard
he sways and strokes his
beard;

He says his girlfriend jacks off
with the faucet in the bathtub

He says she let’s him watch ‘
cause she loves him.

Now he says prey:

“Don’t make it too hard, OK?”

Since nothin’ says lovin’ like
somethin’ in my oven

he makes a mess o’ Bisquicks

as a feather drifts into my
ear and whispers about rock
stars
and world politics.

(C) Rob Goldstein 11/26/1984 -2017

A Flight of Ideas: Strange Days

I wanted 15 seconds of fame but Judy took us to a record store.

David and Louise came along and David was really something with his
face crawling.

The clerk kept staring at Louise so David buttoned his shirt.

I bought an old Doors album, handed the clerk a hundred and watched him
slowly count out the change.

I said thank you and stood by the door as polite as can be.

David was everywhere, breathing hard and sweating and his face all-crawling.

Then he opened his shirt in front of the clerk and smeared Louise all over his belly.

Judy says she’s never gonna bring David out again but she always says that
and she always does.

I wondered if this was Judy’s life with me as the central character but I have to keep such questions to myself.

I can go home when I am more facile with this process.

Image and Text (c) Rob Goldstein 2017 All Rights reserved.

 

 

An Interview with Harold Norse, Part 2, Section 1: “But I’m still Gay.”

Part two of the Interview opens with Harold’s discussing his relationship to his peers, many of whom achieved fame and a place in literary history.

Norse describes them as outcasts and I reply that they are hardly outcasts now.

Norse feels like an outcast and I hearken back to Auden’s comment by suggesting that perhaps a saint is an outcast who survives as an outcast.

Survival in this context is surviving as an artist.

Norse says he wrote because, “I wanted to write about my deepest feelings about being Gay.”

He goes on to tell a story about conversation he had with James Baldwin who was new to fame  and Norse said, “Jimmy, you’ve got nothing to worry about, you’ve got it made.”

“Jimmy turned and said, ‘Whattaya mean I got it made! I’m still Black!'”

The cover of Giovanni's Room, by James Baldwin
Giovanni’s Room 1956, by James Baldwin

Norse goes on to say that no matter what he does, he’s still gay, he’s
still marginalized.

Norse describes how he met with Baldwin again, after Baldwin was wealthy.

Baldwin looks in a mirror and says, “After all, I’m still James Baldwin.”

Norse stopped himself from saying, “And who is James Baldwin.”

Norse describes it as a ‘Zen’ moment when he realized that we are what we’re conscious of being.

Interview with Harold Norse Section 2, part 1.

Please note:

When I turned the tape over I unknowingly enabled a ridiculous option
that stops the machine when it senses silence. The result is a little choppy.
I did my best to smooth it out.

To hear the beginning go to An interview with Harold Norse, Part 1, Section 1

(C) Rob Goldstein 2017 All Rights Reserved

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I Live in Your Grave

Emptiness: a beginning and we are at war. That night we entered your womb; a deformed thing joined at the head: we would spit on you but you are dead and now I must drag your body; you are dead and I must sever your carcass from my skull.

Emptiness: an ending and I am your hostage; strapped to my seat, fearful, sweating, and terrified that I’m next.

Does this ecstasy of death include me?

I am death’s hostage; why does she ask me to join her when she cannot
say she wants me: when she will not give me the value of my life!

Who tallies the value of my life if not she?

Who is responsible for this relentless self-loathing?

You tell me I must love you as hatred seeps from your spirit into mine.

The pursuit of emptiness begins with the fabrication of a perfect lie,
honed to truth, and brutal in its deceptive honesty.

I must bear the humiliation of kneeling to beastliness.

Words and Text (c)Rob Goldstein 2017 All Rights Reserved
 

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A Minute Made Mystery

‘Why does Scott chant if he’s such a devout Christian?” Phil asked

I didn’t know.

My soul was pained.

I loved Scott but wanted to be fair to the ‘family’.

I suspected Scott’s relationship with me was a ruse to embarrass Phil
and the Charleston chapter of Nichiren Shoshu.

I asked Scott that night as we drove across the Cooper River Bridge to
the Isle of Palms.

“He thinks we’re queer,” Scott said.

I was puzzled by Scott’s reply. “Do you love me?” I asked.

Scott replied. “I love the Lord and the Lord says to love you.”

“Who’s Lord? Why me?”

Scott was precise: “You have the soul of a woman! We are not queer!”

“The Lord says I’m not a man?”

“Jesus says! “

“Where?”

“I know these things,” Scott’s tone was soothing. “Now hush your pretty
mouth and trust me.”

We parked on a secluded road at the Isle of Palms; waves of the Atlantic
roll in.

Scott reached over and stroked my hair.

“My pretty little Jew boy; Jesus was a Jew boy, I bet he looked like you. They
killed Jesus, didn’t they?”

I was suddenly afraid.

‘Scott, take me home,” I said.

Scott opened the dashboard and smiled: “we gotta make it real is all.”

(C) Rob Goldstein 2017 All Rights Reserved

Lethal Neglect, The Warsaw Ghetto

Warning: graphic footage.

The Warsaw Ghetto was a Nazi experiment in the use of Lethal Neglect as a
means of execution.

Most of the footage was filmed by the Nazis who sought to document the day-to-day decline in the health of residents walled off from the rest of the community.

The idea of lethal selection as a means of execution was an American idea, first described by Paul Popenoe and Roswell Hill Johnson in the 1918 handbook,  Applied Eugenics.

 

A quote from an early 201th Century Eugenics advocate, Alexis Carrel, who says that the disabled should be executed.
From a December 2010 article in The New Statesman: When America believed in eugenics.

This Memorial Day it’s important to remember the enemy: the enemy is racism, ignorance, intolerance, religious bigotry, lies, persecution, and murder.

The enemy is fascism, in all of its forms, wherever it emerges.

Warsaw Ghetto 1940-1943

Nazi Propaganda that depicts Jews as Rats
Nazi Propaganda depicts the Jewish People as rats to be exterminated.

For further reading see American Eugenics in the 21st Century. 

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Great-Great Grandfather Knows Best: Democracy, 1945

In traditional cultures the elder functions as a source of wisdom
and folk history.

Our elders, the visionaries who wrote and passed so many of the laws and public services  that made American Democracy the most prosperous democracy in human history used film to teach their children what they had learned from the Great Depression and the horrors of fascism.

This ten minute film includes a brief discussion of feudalism and an analyses of why the people of one of Europe’s great democracies succumbed to fascism.

Democracy, released in 1945 was made by Encyclopedia Britannica for high school civics classes.

Screenshot from Democracy 1945 that illustrates that two signs of a healthy democracy are shared respect between citizens and shared power
Two signs of a healthy democracy are shared respect between citizens and shared power in decisions that affect everyone, This requires the ability to compromise.
Screenshot from democracy_1945 discussing the need to verify that the news one reads and hears is credible
When you read a paper or listen to a news program look for balanced presentation, disclosure of sources, and the competence of the staff. Make sure that opinions are clearly stated as such and kept on the opinion pages.

Found on the Internet Archives
All material in the Public Domain

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A Flight of Ideas: The Food Chain

I am somewhere on the food chain, not high, not low.

I can eat until eaten or watch reruns of Green Acres.

Eva Gabor was more popular than Zsa Zsa but Eva
was never the Queen from Outer Space!

Money does not change poverty when wealth wins out.

Signifiers of class: the rich can choose to skip a bath.

Having a choice is class.

If you must wear a gown, you’re trash.

Eva Gabor as Lisa Douglas on Green Acres
Meme from GIPHY

(c) Rob Goldstein 2017 All Rights Reserved

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A Flight of Ideas: David and Louise

David weighs 300 pounds but thinks he’s a skinny woman
named Louise.

David’s face squirms on his skull like a snake shedding its skin.

It’s a side effect of his meds.

David draws Louise on his belly with lipstick so everyone else
will see her.

Louise is a sage young woman with wise advice.

Louise thinks I should forget about Nurse Judy and fuck a
slab of liver.

One day Louise said she was pissed about her face and hated
the man that owns it.

I said I’d ask for more cogentin but Louise wanted David to ask.

I decided to slice David’s face so Louise could get some rest.

I told Judy about it in the dining room and realized I was trapped
in the movie, Possessed.

If this is hard to understand try being me.

I am also a face; an amorphous face that doesn’t exist.

You are here because you want to be here:

SO WHY BLAME ME FOR WHAT YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND?

Perhaps I’m a homeless old man raving in the back
of a crowded city bus.

But you’ve paid to see this so why are you complaining?

And if you’re not complaining, why not?

Digital painting of a face iin shadows, based on a VR photo of an avatar
I am also a face; an amorphous face that doesn’t exist

(c) Rob Goldstein 2017 All Rights Reserved.

A Flight of Ideas-The Coke Conspiracy

No. Judy doesn’t love me.  And I don’t love her.

Her job is to help me do my job and in that way
our jobs are secure.

Together we could climb a summit of immense
dimensions!

I lay on the mat in the seclusion room and
considered the War in Viet Nam.

Had the hippies ended it or was it economics?

I mean, had the peace movement become another
hot property, or was it a brand?

I mean, why would Coke want to teach the World
to sing?

How much money does Coke make if everyone
in the World buys everyone in the World one
Coke per day?

I quickly do the math: 7.2 billion people x $2.65
USD per can of coke = $19.08 billion USD!

Per day!

Why is a man who understands Coke’s conspiracy
to end World hunger in a seclusion room?

I called to tell Judy; she had to know my secret!

But she was washing broccoli out of her hair.

(c) Rob Goldstein 2017 All Rights Reserved.

A Flight of Ideas-Little Reagan

I was under powerful witchcraft and hoped I was possessed.

I thought of little Reagan: the tricks he could do with a crucifix.

He was light in the head yet raised by circumstance.

Were I novelist I’d have written the story but instead I spinned
and spewed broccoli.

Judy asked if I was trying to vomit and I snarled, “No! I need a
fucking exorcist!”

Judy said what I really needed was a time out until I learned
to govern myself.

The staff carried me off before I could levitate.

I’m in seclusion and starting to think that Judy doesn’t love me.

Rob Goldstein (c) 2017 All Rights Reserved  

A Flight of Ideas – High Art

My cheeks are red; like cuts of fresh beef.

This clarity of complexion is significant but I can’t locate its source.

The source of significance is always obscure, like the meaning of “High Art’.

Let us assume for a moment that ‘high art’ is art that makes no sense.

Let us also assume that high art is useless.

By virtue of assumption, we enter the realm of critic: one responsible for deciding what is high and who goes low.

They name what we haven’t.

Delusional grandiosity is the basis of all civilized discourse.

What we say is true, is true, because we say it is.

Thus, I poke my complexion and objectively call it clear, but can I
call it high?


(c) Rob Goldstein 2017 All Rights Reserved

A Flight of Ideas-Ruminations

Judy asked if I was ready to come
out on the floor.

Think of it: come out on the floor.

What does it mean?

Say it enough and it’s meaningless.

Come Out. On. The. Floor.

Say it enough and it’s paralyses.

The position I’m in right now?

I’m on a mat in the seclusion room.

The walls are wet and swell with milk
for me.

With milk. For me.

I for one will never believe I am
Christ; the responsibility is enough
to bust a nut!

But I am lonely.

All I really want is to love.

Is that wrong?

Judy asked if I’m ready to come out
on the floor.

Think of it: come out. on the floor.

What can it mean?

“I only read simple things.” I reply.

(c) Rob Goldstein 2017 All Rights Reserved

A Flight of Ideas-Perry Mason

I lift weights but don’t have the bulk for presence.

Men don’t enter rooms, we barge into them; think of Paul
Drake and Perry  Mason, think of the bulk in those suits.

Think of Della Street; why is she so fawning and efficient?

What does she do when she’s not pursing her lips?

These questions race through my mind as I lay on the mat
in the seclusion room.

Finally, Nurse Judy unlocks the door to ask if she can trust
me on the unit.

Of course, I say yes, wouldn’t you?

I watch the little dimples in her ass appear and disappear
as she leaves to fetch wrist restraints.

When we’re alone, we shall mate like peacocks.

Rob Goldstein (c) 2017 All Rights Reserved