The thinking 'bout Saint Peter blues.

I am told
by people I trust reasonably well
that they crucified him
upside down.

I am told
he requested it that way
so they did him up special.

Personally,
I am not convinced
that it could work
like that or in that way.

With nail(s) through the feet, I mean.

Cos it seems like skin 'tween the tarsals
just wouldn’t hold
not with the weight of
a fully grown apostle on it
& with nothing like the ulna/radius combo
to compensate.

They’d probably have to tie him up there with a rope.

He’d still die.
Eventually.

Maybe I was simply told wrong.
Maybe he tripped & hit his head
in a dark Roman alley
or fell out a window,
drowned crossing the Tiber,
or caught the latest bug goin’ round.

After all,
there are so many ways to die
& it was all so cheap & easy
back then.

Or so I’m told.

Latecomer.

To whom it may concern.

I carry a letter around with me at all times just like they told me to. It is from my doctor. When I need to show it to somebody, like when I am for instance about to get thrown out of Kroger, I reach into my pocket & I take it out & unfold it. Then I show it to the person who is mad.

The letter always says this when they read it:

//To Whom it May Concern:

//Please be advised that [------ ----] is under my psychiatric care. As part of her ongoing treatment, she wears a therapeutic mask in public. The mask enables her to interact with others to the extent necessary to purchase food, medicine, & other life essentials.

//I ask that appropriate accommodation be made for her appearance. Should you have additional questions or concerns, feel free to call me at [(---) -------].

//This letter complies with the Americans with Disabilities Act of 1990, Section blah blah blah.

//Sincerely, Dr. [--- ------].\\

But the lady at Kroger did not care about the letter I carry. She told me to leave the store & to not come back.

I left the store & walked across the store's parking lot. I sat down on tree legs.

Tree pants.

Afterwards, I rested on the tree legs. Barky knees poked my privates where I sat.

I think it's a boy tree.

I ought to stitch a pair of pants for the poor thing. It's so cold out & anyway, sitting around out in the public open air without benefit of pants is indecent!

Banned.

It finally happened.

Last night. I knew it was going to happen but I did not know that it was going to happen last night.

What happened is that I got banned from Kroger. Kroger is the big grocery chain where I buy all the food I eat. But last night I got banned & now I am unable to go back & buy more food.

This is bad, & it's bad because not eating any more food is not what you might call a viable option for me.

Maybe I can start growing my own food right here in my apartment. That would show those Kroger bastards.

Probably not, though. I can't see me managing to grow grapes & bananas & spinach & potatoes all inside this tiny apartment.

Besides, for that I'd need to go buy soil & seeds & maybe some heat lamps, & getting banned from the nursery down the street is the last thing I need right now.

Maybe I can order all my food online & have it delivered. There's got to be somebody in the greater Temixoch area who offers this service.

All this talk of food has made me hungry, which is unfortunate because what is in the fridge right this minute has got to last me for the foreseeable future.

Things To Do, Updated.

The Sanitarium has fallen. Ahead of schedule. It was almost TOO easy.

Two down, three to go:

Restrain myself from making resolutions or taking vows. 1.

Mark the new year with a fresh tattooing. 2.

Actively begin a writing journal. 3.

Keep track of the moon. 4.

Tear down Adri’s Sanitarium. 5.

Urban Navigation.

Urban navigation is a genetic talent. A recessive gene. Either both biological parents have it or they do not.

Mine did not.

Because of this, I have found myself trapped within the city of Temixoch, Texas now for many years. Lost. Utterly unable to find my way out. I have heard stories in passing of London. Of Cairo. Of Paris. There is supposedly even a place they call //Rio de Janeiro\\, although I am not certain I believe them.

Can you imagine such a thing?

//Rio de Janeiro\\?

When I checked the mailbox, I had received an invitation to an art gallery opening somewhere in the city. It came with a map so people would know how to get there to see the art. People with the navigation gene anyway.

I looked at the map. Only a jumble of lines & arrows & street names. It might as well have been in Braille.

I took the map & I showed it to a friend. I said //Can you help me get to this place?\\ I was a little bit desperate. It was like I was asking her to translate the Dead Sea Scrolls.

At night, I have dreams & the dreams are uniformly bad. I dream that dragons are attacking the city. I’d be safe if I were out in the country, only I can’t leave because I’m trapped & I’m trapped because I’m lost & I’m lost because I do not possess the urban navigation gene.

So if you need me, you know where to find me.

Things to Do.

By now it is generally accepted that the Year 2010 is not going away. I must therefore find something to do with it.

It is good to find things to do.

Things to do:

Restrain myself from making resolutions or taking vows. 1.
2. Mark the new year with a fresh tattooing. 2.
3. Actively begin a writing journal. 3.
4. Keep track of the moon. 4.
5. Tear down Adri’s Sanitarium. 5.

This is a good list. These are good things to do.

I should get started doing them.