I was up in the Redlands yesterday, while stopped at an intersection at a red light I looked out the side window of the car and there curled up in the grass was a slight man with filthy socks, filthy jeans, and filthy everything, next to him were two styrafoam food containers. Two orange soda cans.

Perhaps his soul was not filthy, so I am inspired to pen the following:

I could say this is a little dark or that I really dont care what you think, but that wouldnt be entirly true, so heres a ditty for you.

                                         CHEERIE NEWS OR I DONT GET IT:

Troubles of the world, troubles of the world, hate, love, lust, I must, I must, beginning, middle, end.

Live , die, then turn to dust, in no difference, the ends the same, much I suspect.

Curled up in a dirty little ball along the side of the road or fancy medical hall.

In seeming no difference we join the ranks of the dead.

One and all in trh the meaning of togetherness you and I at last.

Failing in life to recognize somehow we never quite get it.

We continue to keep piling batteries and crap up ever higher in our landfills with present solutions at our fingertips.

With more importance then clean air and water we watch corporate jets fly by, soon to refuel.

Mother earth watches, remembering the slaughters of her kindred souls, perhaps in a willingness she will one day roll over and we can slap her on the ass once more.

Maybe I should have asked the old man his opinion from his penthouse vantage, laying there in his apartment at the hotel capitolismo.

And to my friends I say.   In Joy, pretending.  as once said “mans inhumanity to man” truely lives on.

I now will push send to deliver my verbal fodder to you. Johnny