As time marches on, dragging me along for the ride, I have to admit my thirst for knowledge is leading me to faith.

It doesn’t matter how much I know in this world because someone is forever rewriting the rules without giving me the latest updated notes…

I am tired of the knowledge of The Great I-AMS!

I am with God and the Christians. There are many things I don’t know or understand, and I am good with that.

I followed the sound of a jukebox coming from up the levee.

All of a sudden I could hear someone whistling right behind me.

I turned around and she said. “Why do you always end up down at Nick’s Cafe?”

I said, “I don’t know. The wind just kinda pushed me this way.”

She said, “Hang the rich.”

The north coast of Nova Scotia is somewhere between the middle of nowhere and God’s country.

Somehow, I was still there when I was 18, and she’d been dead for 7 years. I would still look for her whenever I was in a crowd of people. Straining searching. Imagining that she had faked her death to get away from me. My mother. By the fall of 1977, I guess I figured she was really dead. All of this I kept to myself. Winding wrapped tight. In my tiny bedroom on a twin bed in a mobile trailer on an acre of land at the edge of Deception River is where the nightmare began…

I ripped out the window screen at the foot of the bed one night and the screen at the head of the bed the next. Screaming some nonsensical rage about “I’ll get you! You motherfuckers!” The next morning the fingernails were torn and bloodied from ripping out screens. Both windows smashed.

I could hear the breathing coming from something somewhere. I held my breath and lay still on my bed, making sure it wasn’t me. I looked under the bed and under the trailer. Nothing. I was alone… except for whatever was breathing. It felt like it was coming from inside me. I had never been so terrified. I forgot to pray. I forgot God.

After a few days and nights of this, I realized that I had to leave that bed, that bedroom,that trailer, that acre, that river.

I left and never returned…

Things have become so divisive in Canada due to Prime Minister Justin Trudeau attempting to introduce legislation to the elementary school boards to stop using he/she pronouns… that a miracle is happening!

The Christian and Muslim communities are joining forces in an effort to put a stop on this forced legislative speech.

It is drama in the kitchen.

Exaggeration on the phone.

Silence in the bedroom.

Until we are all alone.

It is drama all this bitchin.

Humiliation… no atone.

Beauty is just skin deep.

And Ugly goes to the bone.

I so rarely have a drinking dream…

That when I do, for me, these are events.

At the end of this August month, God willing; I will not have had a drink of alcohol or a drug of any kind outside of caffeine and aspirin for 19 years. Not in the Old-timers club but close.

[In the dream-I was at an event where there were lots of people, none of them I remember, and we were all sitting at large round tables: There was a meal and then people were dancing and I began to drink… and at some point in the dream, I shit myself (in the dream, not in bed), which I was totally unaware of until I saw the stains on the back of my pants.]

I remember feeling dreadful. Ashamed. Humiliation.

I woke up sober and with a fresh reminder of why I don’t drink.

The Villians all wore dresses.

Don’t say they were disguised.

It is more about fashion feelings.

Then, any plans that they devised.

There was a rumble at the diner.

No much more than throwing grub.

Someone didn’t like the service much.

So they left to find a pub.

It’s not about good or evil.

It is more like circumstance.

You might not be asked to join in.

Might be best to run than dance.

There must be something in the water.

A hazy smoke has filled the air.

The last I checked, this is planet Earth.

Spinning proudly without a care.

The demons have left the vineyards.

They’ve enrolled at computer school.

Hindsight being twenty twenty.

Humans are not hard to fool.

There’s no need to lose all hope now.

Please don’t offend and keep control.

Just tell them they’ve been conned later.

They won’t believe you to save their soul.

I finished off the census.

Questions like what’s your name.

With a claim of anonymity.

I had to hang my head in shame.

I guess I’m at that age now.

Where I believe no claim at all.

And I’ve resigned myself to destiny.

To watch society at the fall.

It would be like such an honor.

If it weren’t so dumb and lame.

It’s like Nero and the Christians.

Without the hero or the fame.

There were sirens in the distance.

I swear I heard one moan.

The sailors kept on boating passed.

The rocks stood all alone.

No world’s were worth colliding.

Each had lost their trust.

And no one knows the others’ plans.

Or who was the champion of disgust.

The dark clouds are all holding.

The drugs are sold and bought.

Games of chances are now folding.

Not much new is learned or taught.