do not feed or annoy the amomancer during mating season

snarl

now I recall why I dropped "testosterone" from my bloodstream. it makes me cranky. not cranky like a 6 month old in a soiled diaper. cranky like a wolverine with a toothache.

now there would be a muse. "the wolverine cycles" anyone?

I repeat. snarl.

listened to the recording sessions for track b, what I recorded last night. they suck. too much hum, not enough hymn. I want madness and badness, not romi-ette and julio.

late nght recording session. check. and to hell with Ravel's Bolero, I need my own music. I can't fit in another man's shadow. well, maybe Orson Welles (fat joke).

snarl.

there are some decent moments, but not sustained. a good reading should be like great sex, slightly out of control and with a firm grip on what you're trying to accomplish. (sounds like I'm vaguely recalling my poem "sixth gear")

snarl.

I made a list today of former lovers that, despite my affection for them, I would heartily commit suicide rather than be the last man left on earth with them.

short list, but telling. most I wouldn't mind the exile.

snarl.

"it is part of our being, like blood, spit and sweat" - line from my auld poem "Last night"

snarl.

looking for a texture to the read...midway between Ralph Fiennes and Ron Perlman. yeah, high bar.

if you don't bleed from the blow, you never really felt it. get up and fight.

I went through a copy of "from an unexpected quarter"...I counted over forty poems that I will drop from my catalog once that book is retired. orphaned children of an indifferent god of poetry and eloquence who finds them offensive for their weakness or their vector.

the adrenaline is a side effect of the testosterone. it'll mitigate. eventually. I have to, until then, vent my rage on shadows
and immovable objects. but it does help for exercising, I'd forgotten how strong I was.

snarl.

"find me the finest onion on earth. perfect, round, ripe, hearty. not a blemish. polish it with soft cloths and gentle touch. cook it in rare oils and with persistent, gentle flame. and I still won't eat it. I don't like onions." - me, on preferences

snort. pftttt!