The Acquired Sanity of Death

I fought

for the

great

revolution

when the

poor will

come first

and

be safe

and

live like

the

happy trash

on TV–

but the

revolution

was

murdered

and

starved–

but I

escaped

into

loony bins

where

I took

pills and

acquired

the sanity

of

death.

B Goldstein July 2015

This post was inspired by a chat with Melinda at Looking for the  Light about my alternate Bobby.

Born Into a Carnival of Souls

Here are a few words I’ve seen scrawled in the alleys of San Francisco’s
Mission District:

We can’t know what we won’t comprehend.

We can’t stop the damage we won’t believe we cause.

These are the crazies, the dregs of the earth, the losers, and every other demeaning and dismissive word used to dismiss the powerless who suffer
the worst of the GOP’s abuses of power.

These people can’t afford to vote their conscience because they’re dying from the lousy choices of people who can.

I saw this scrawled on a wall in late 2016: Why do u want 2 Kill me?

That’s a damned good question.

A mind that ain’t inquisitive really doesn’t got
shit to live for if you can’t explore the
realms of thought you ought not test lest
you be chomped up, like a pop rock, stopped for a
bead from the weed lady, thought it was the bomb
Really wasn’t nuttin but a bag of strong palms

A human ain’t a human if he doesn’t make mistakes
And the name of this song is Swan Lake

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