….I can hear pigs squealing as they are slaughtered. Today their carcasses will be cooked to fill tomales for offerings on the altars for The Day of the Dead. The richness of Mexico far exceeds the sameness and tiredness that pervaids the US. The terrible rioting and police brutality in Oaxaca demonstrates a lesson that the democrats in the US can apply to the rude behavior of Bush and his cronies….the Brutalization demonstrated by the US government sullies the planet…I am making up words as I go along, reminded of those days 28 years ago in New York…I was all dressed in orange and trying to get to India to see Bhagwan, my Guru. I was selling loose joints on Christopher street to the clones in their leather jackets and levis. Ya gotta make a living…no? It seems that I have always been an outsider…observing…looking in…a reporter…sometimes right…sometimes wrong. I guess I have arrived, but still outside the door. Off in the distance the pigs are no longer squealing. Tomorrow is the Day of the Dead. May all Beings find their True Nature…May all Beings pass through the Door.
So do ya still have any of those loose joints?
Or are they getting stiff now.
pigs squealing, donkeys braying, dogs barking, cats meowing. Birds chirping. fireworks banging. church bells ringing. frogs and crickets, La cieneguita, casa las ranas, home sweet home.