It's 4am teezee
It's 4 am lights dot zigzag boardwalk out past building sight
wind and tide breathe in and out
somewhere birdies sometimes perch in the dark
on the rocks meditating, some off stage nestled somewhere
against some dark underbrush, gentle underneath
man made pier forgotten shanty wood retreat
will it rain tomorrow, not sure
in the 60's they say
each night I tell myself all night
that today is the day that I'll begin again
strut up and down that walk
with music and camera
by my side
so far I've yet to return to that starting point
but with pc back, I've got my tablet
for times like this
at 4 am
when the lights dot zigzag out
ocean beach front shores
and yet
staten island is always there
swathed distant darkened fog
hope to see you soon mike
I hope to see you soon
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2:54am
it's raining out
hey man on the beach
what's he doing there
now on the rocks
water levels receded nearly past
the dock
but right now i'm having trouble staying on the page
tv 3d movie floats cartoonish
stomach growls flushing noises
I know I have an oncoming problem there
thanks brookhaven
said hello dougal
today, she actual was civil back
she had to be she was in a public place
I think?
She could have said nothing
and ignored me
digested turkey burger growls at me
shaking loose cobweb bowels
it felt good walking in the prerain today,
I need to walk more
and more
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Further observations on Swans and Seagulls
it does appear that some of the swans seem to acknowledge my presence, or maybe it's the bag with a coffee and a danish in my hand that alerts them,”possible eats over here”, I have become adept at flinging bits of food at angles that drop in front of either the swans or the seagulls, I'm not fond of the pigeons, who at the hint of food, blanket the beach, so I wait it out till they leave, so I can fling some more stuff to the swans, but the pigeons are
clever, they don't merely fly off, they fly off to high vantage points on the building ready to swoop down at any sign of food, so I've got to wait in between waves of them to entertain the swanees who seem to understand, and the seagulls usually concur, one of them makes the same kind of noise each day like an old jewish yentah, and then others clear their throats with overally dramatic calls, that seem to be designed to garnish some attention, it was amusing the other morning, I was having coffee, wondering where the swanees were, when all of a sudden, I notice a dozen or so long white question marks bobbing up and down in the water on the otherside of the bay, swimming across to me, not that this has anything to do with wellness, lovelina, mike, or brookhaven, but I thought you'd like to know, teezee
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An excerpt from James Michener's “The Source”
This final exchange took place one night as Schwartz lingered at
the table to listen, and when the conflicting points of view were
neatly tied into gentlemanly packages, as in a formal debate be-
tween men dressed in black ties, he startled the group by voicing
the hard truth of the matter they had been discussing: "You talk
as if the future were going to be like the past. It's all changed,
Zodman. You live in, a much different world. So do you, Eliav."
"What do you mean?" Zodman asked.
"Just this. A couple of years ago a lot of synagogues were
bombed in Florida. Remember?"
"What has Florida to do with me?"
"And it looked as if a strong anti-Sernitic wave was beginning.
My group here in Israel followed it very closely. And it may
shock you to know that if those bombings bad continued one
more week we were prepared to smuggle armed volunteers into
Florida. To train the local Jews. And to shoot it out ... for
keeps.,,
Zodman gulped. Cullinane leaned forward to ask, "You were
going to invade Florida?"
"Why not? Germany killed six million Jews and the world has
never stopped asking, 'Why didn't somebody fight back?"' He
rubbed his forearms and for the first time Cullinane saw that
each had been badly broken. "I fought back. So did a lot of
others. They're mostly dead now. But if the good people of
Miami, or Quebec, or Bordeaux decide some day to liquidate
their Jews, I personally shall appear in that city to fight back
again.,,
A shocked hush fell over the room as Zodman and Cullinane
tried to apply this challenge to America, but they were unable to
do so because Schwartz was speaking: "You won't fight back,
Zodman, because your kind never does. You didn't in Berlin or
Amsterdam or Paris. And you won't either, Cullinane. You'll
pray and you'll issue most moving statements and you'll regret the
whole mess, but you won't raise a finger. And Eliav as a trained
seal of the government will announce, 'The responsible nations of
the world really must do something,' but he won't have a clue as
to what." With contempt Schwartz looked at the three men and
said, "But no one will ever again have to ask, 'Why didn't the
Jews do something?' Because my group will be doing just that."
He moved to Zodman and said, "So when trouble starts in
Chicago and you're positive it will go away if Jews keep the
governor and the chief of police happy, nobody expects you to
do anything, Zodman. All we ask is this. If in that time of trouble
you see me on the street and you realize that I have come over
from Israel to lead the Jewish resistance, don't betray me. Look
the other way and pass on in silence. Because I shall be there to
save you.'
He nodded brusquely to the three men and left the discussion, a
hard-disciplined man who cultivated an unemotional view of the
contemporary world. He was a man whom Cullinane had grown
to respect and actually to like, a tough-minded man who stood
ready to take on the whole Christian church, the united Arabs,
the diffident Jews of Florida, the vacillating Gentiles and anyone
else who wanted to break into the act. It was reassuring to know
that such men populated the new Israel, and Cullinane offered a
benediction to Schwartz's self-contained arrogance: "If you can
harness his courage, Eliav, you'll build a great land here."
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