Up at 6:01 a.m., out of wet cat food; I put dry food in the cats’ bowls, and, at first, they seemed to be fooled. Kobain caught on quick to the deal, though, but did not make a big fuss. I was thankful for this. I did not want to feel guilty about anything this early in the morning.

I am nearly out of coffee, too, which for me, is as big a catastrophe as running out of wet cat food is to my cats. Coffee, and wet cat food, are essentials in this home. I will give plasma, if I have to, to keep the wet cat food, and coffee, flowing. I wouldn’t donate sperm, though, even if I could(I’ve had a vasectomy). I don’t like the idea of a kid running around the earth that I helped create that I have no part in loving.

I saw a good movie, last night: the new True Grit film. I have never seen the old one, but I am going to seek it out now; Netflix? I usually am not much of a Jeff Bridges fan, though I did dig him in The Fabulous Baker Brothers, but he is HUGE in this movie, completely believable as an old, wise, drunk cowboy, who reluctantly tries to help a young girl find the killer of her father.

For me, a good movie, in the theater, passes by in what seems like seconds. True Grit met this mark. It made me smile a lot, and it scared me in places/made me jump out of my seat. I couldn’t afford popcorn, but I wasn’t all that put out by that; I have several microwave poppable bags here in the crib.

I have to thank my good friend, artist Clark Vreeland, lead singer of The Band Spanky and The Love Handles for buying me the passes that got myself, and Wayne the Computer Genius into this movie. Clark bought these tickets for me back in June, for my birthday, wanting me to/saying I had to go see The Banksy Movie, which I did, but not at the theater where he bought the passes.

“I’ll get by with a little help from my friends,” certainly applies here. Check out the music of Spanky and The Love Handles, and turn your computer woes over to Wayne. They are both talented mother fuckers!

I am going to an Art Opening, tonight. In the old days, I loved art openings intensely, because I knew that, most likely, there was going to be free wine there, and I was less interested than the art than I was The Free Buzz.

For a bit, I wrote art reviews, for Art Papers, one of the best Art Magazines on the planet. Mostly, I would drop LSD, drink wine, and see how the art spoke to me. Amazingly, I got some nice stream of consciousness work out of this, which the paper printed, and paid me for.

I thought that I was pretty cool, but the LSD, and the wine, finally caught up with me. I never let the writing go, though. I have written when I was a drunk mother fucker, and I have written when I was sober as hell. People have asked me if the writing was better in one stage or the other; drunk, or sober, and all I can say, brother, is that the writing has been different in each era.

The drunk writing was more angry, more accusatory, more pointing a finger at the world for my problems, for my depression, for my drunkeness, for the “fact” that EVERYBODY else was doing better than me. The drunk writing took no look at my part in things, gave NO gratitude for the good things in my life.

In less than a month, I will have been sober for 19 years. I am happy as hell about that, and very, very thankful. If I hadn’t sobered up, I know that I would be dead. I had several guns pulled on me on my way to the many, many blackouts that I lived through. There may not be a God, but there sure is a Higher Power who pulled me through those many, many years of oblivion. I give thanks to him, or her, now; and give intense thanks that I am alive breathing the air of this new day.

Guide me, Lord, in thought, word, and action; thy will be done, not mine.

I just left the office, and entered my writing studio. Conveniently, and thankfully, the two are one and the same. Nathan Nelson is singing, “I could use a little pussy, and a lot of dough.” He is doing this via his new cd, AMERIJUANICA, on my old jam box. I haven’t smoked pot in almost two decades. I was advised that pot would lead me back to my drug of choice, which is liquor. I’m a violent blackout drunk with a tendency to break out covered in blood, and puke, in jail cells after, or during, a blackout, when “”partying” with my drug of choice. That has nothing to do with now, except that I need to remind myself, on occasion, of where I come from so that my history will not repeat itself.

I’m a pretty nice guy, these days. The only thing giving me trouble is money, or lack there of it. I’m probably not taking the right steps to make these words pay, because, come on, we all know that I am pretty fucking good at this writing thing; my problem may be that I like to write, but I don’t want to deal with, or can’t deal with, any of the other shit that comes along into your life when your words becomee a business.

I don’t handle stress well. In fact, I am genetically programmed to be unable to handle stress.

Wah wah. I am going to quit wah wahing now. Have a brilliant day. We are both so lucky to be alive: you the reader, and I the writer. Let’s treat each other with love, and respect today.


Clark Vreeland is a very well loved and respected fixture in the New Orleans and Atlanta Arts and Music community. Born and raised in New Orleans, Clark began his musical life at the age of 12 showcasing his talents on television and local events on drums. By the time he was 15 he was playing the French Quarter strip bars and jazz clubs and added guitar to his tool bag. During the 1970’s Clark had the opportunity to work with Earl King (who was a close mentor), Lee Dorsey and Professor Longh.

–Clark Vreeland Bio from ReverbNation:

“Spanky’s sets are dirty blues sessions that might include a gritty, Delta-mud-between-the-toes version of Willie Dixon’s “I Want to Be Loved” along with a wiggly, slide guitar rendition of the narcotic, New Orleans hymn “Junko Partner”– Grant Britt, Creative Loafing Atlanta

Check out Spanky and The Love Handles:





K Pics Above: Middle Mikel K Poet thanks Wayne The Computer Genius for, for, once again, fixing The K Komputer. Left: Spank and The Love Handles, and Right: well, uh, errrr. uh…


If your computer is broken, or slow, you should have Wayne The Computer Genius fix it. Wayne keeps my computer running, and he can keep yours running to. Contact him via his
Facebook page: http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100000054602155


K Poems of the Day

Take One

I want to sneak into the movie;
steal some popcorn, go home with
the pretty girl who has the lead.



Kill A Crack Head?


Rubbed the wrong way.
How dare he profane my space,
not to mention walk with what
is mine.

What is yours, you start
to wonder, when someone
can kick in the back door
and take so easily
that which was close to you.

There were pictures of my kids,
when they were young,
in that laptop, and now
they are in the hands of some crack head.

Give me a gun; should I kill
for what is mine?



How many Hail Mary’s?

It’s not Saturday, but I keep thinking
that it is Saturday. It keeps feeling like
it is Saturday; the cats still sit
in the kitchen, waiting for their breakfast snack,
which I have forgotten to buy. Cat’s can really
work you, make you feel guiltier than a Priest
pounding his pulpit on Sunday.


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in the refrigerator, with a donation of $10,
$20, $35 or whatever you can afford.
Donate here now http://www.mikelk.com/

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Mikel K (58 Posts)