what do i do when people are mean to me: nothing

Bob Dylan with Get Born sign

what does the boulder do? what does the mountain do? what does the sea do?

they keep on giving the invisible finger to the haters, the polluters, the fakers, the liars.

its the ones without courage that im the most concerned with tonight as i fly chopper one for the first time in years.

did i steal it? you cant steal whats invisible. you cant steal whats been stolen.

you cant steal a mans best friend.

what does the chopper do when its soul mate is back in the saddle? it hums.

only eddie van halen can play that one guitar with the stripes.

only babe ruth can swing that 39 ounce mammoth bat.

theres only one busblog only one chopper one only one person meant to fly those things

and it sure aint Fear.

mr t pitied the fools.

me, i never liked being called t

so he can pity those fools too.

the ghost of charles bukowski whispers from the palm trees


he says why be lesser than

why do it the cheater way

why not get in here on the other side and be honest for the first time

why not work a little at it: sharpen yr hatchet.

charles bukowskis ghost aint got time for your fiddle faddle.

hes got a new old racetrack to haunt.

the kittens have so much fun with the plastic orange bag that the newspaper comes wrapped in.

theyre so light and they slide on the hard wood.

they chase things that arent even there.

the one will be sitting doing nothing and move its tail in the slightest

and the other one will spring over to it and take a good swipe.

everything must be touched or sniffed or batted at or climbed on or rubbed against.

they both talk to me and get jealous im writing you.

one seriously just walked on my leg, made its way up and is now wresting on my arm

purring, reading this little post

about a ghost

the other is scratching us both

and trying to get that tail.