tranquilisers, whiskey, a child's playground

So, there is a Jack Spicer poem called: "Mazurka For The Girls Who Brought Me Tranquilizers" which I found from this extremely interesting catalogue (or whatever the correct term is) of Jack Spicer's papers here____<| and I want to read it. Does anyone know if it is in the One Night Stands early collection, or the new super collation My Vocabulary Did This To Me which I still don't have, it is outrageous? Someone please give me this poem.

Mio bought me some tranquilisers recently. They are fairly low on power, but conjoined with turmeric tea and some carefully chosen alcohols frolics in the outside are enabled. There is only one (1) problem with the tranquil pill -- they absorb the target of their effect, it is like living in a balloon, breathing its air (exhaustible), the tendency being to sustain the happy peace period (exhaustible) -- that is why people like that actor man die from "misadventure".

The whiskey is from the strange venue where we saw Haino Keiji (in an extremely interesting performance I will discuss later) -- it was a far classier bar-type place than most "live houses" -- a waiter service, a drinks menu, disappointingly expensive drinks (my 200en theory is seriously flawed) -- toilet location was behind where the musicians were to be, so I needed whiskey to strengthen my bladder. First I tried an "old ezra", then a "maker's mark", then either an irish or scottish one, I really can't remember. "maker's mark" is my favourite. I never used to be able to drink whiskey . . .

The child's playground is from prior to the venue, we had two hours to kill. There is a lovely pedestrianised stream-focused area of nature in the shimokitazawa region, where we sat (and the child's playground) (the playground has a bouncy soft-but-tarmac-looking floor -- oddness) (all the children seemed afraid of me, I would not be a very successful paedophile) -- the problem with nature, and being alive generally, is evident from all the used sex-bits of all the sakura blossom strewn all over, ceaseless propagation, essentially a sprouting form of a billion illnesses in one pervasive intent -- rancid trap life.

Like the tree growing in that man's lung.

This is sort of a conversation post and shall be designated as such.









if you go >here< you will find a blog concerning the archive and so on, Spicer things like a birthday cake with his face on &tc, well worth your time, thankyou