‎”There will be little rubs and disappointments everywhere, and
we are all apt to expect too much; but then, if one scheme of
happiness fails, human nature turns to another; if the first
calculation is wrong, we make a second better: we find comfort
somewhere.”–Jane Austen

Ask me about the truck I just passed that had a, “Do Not Pass,” sign strapped to its rear end.

I had an anxious dream last night, where in I was, once again, involved with a fellow with whom our egos, and our fists, had clashed over the years. Through our drunken experiences together, both of us came to see each other not as a friend, but as a threat to each other; I think that we both felt unsafe around the other.

The dream was very uncomfortable, and is, I believe, a reflection of why this person and I do not seek each other’s company, these days. It is sad, because deep down, I really love this person, and have respect for him, despite his, and my faults, and despite all the bad times that we have endured with each other. I must consult Thich Nhat Hanh on this matter.

Sometimes, you know that you are in a good place; sometimes you know that you are in a place that is so right for you that all attempts to sway you to somewhere else are easily swept to the side. I see Yoga ads all the time; ads promising me this, ads promising me that.

“For a thousand dollars…” some ads say, “You can be a Yoga instructor.” When I was younger, and interested in such things, some karate studios would advertise that you could be a black belt for a thousand bucks.

There are certain things that you just can’t buy. There are things that you have to earn in this world, usually by hard work, and patience over time.

I don’t think that a dating service can immediately hook me up with the millionaire beauty of my dreams, Then if you fancy the idea of a fuck buddy or sex pal then you can so easily find one locally as there are loads of horny and desperate females on the adult dating sites. I don’t think that a thousand dollars can be traded for a black belt that would help me, if a real fight went down; and I don’t think that I can buy my way into being a Yoga instructor for a thousand dollars, either, and you know what: I am very glad of this because, among other things, I don’t have a thousand bucks!

There are two very mean dogs, down the street, who viciously bark at us, and bare their teeth, from behind a fence, as we walk by.

Today, unfortunately for Bundy, I discovered that there is a hole in the end of the fence that keeps these dogs from attacking me, and my dogs, as we walk by. Bundy, and Henry, pulled me towards this hole, allowing one of the dogs, inside the fence, to clamp down on Bundy’s nose. I pulled Bundy out of the dog’s jaws, leaving his muzzle inside with the two brutes.

I am considering reporting these dogs to Animal Control. What do you think? I mean I could just forever walk on the other side of the street, but I really think that there is an issue here where someone is going to get hurt.

Morisson has his chin on my leg, as I sit at my desk and type; Henry has the jitters, and is barking at invisible things, and Bundy is nursing the wound that he got today from the neighbor’s dog. Anna is resting, and I am here waiting for you. Things here at The K Hotel are pleasant tonight. I was talking about money to my friend, Lisa, this afternoon, and she said, “Why do you want money; you are already happy?”


K Photos Left: Kimberly James of The Kimberly James Report letting Mikel K know what she thinks. Middle: The Unknown Photographer. Left:  L to R Henry, Morisson, and Bundy hitting the sidewalk looking for adventure. All photos by Mikel K


People can’t do me wrong like they used to, because I have a better attitude. I used to have a big chip on my shoulder, and everyone, and everything pissed me off. I was mad at God, government, my friends, my neighbors, and completely random strangers on the street. I was miserable most of the time, with these hateful voices inside my head leading me through life.


Do you remember Dylan, the young,light brown pit bull, that Bundy, and Morisson, and I, ran into a couple of weeks ago on one of our walks? Dylan was off leash, and in the middle of a busy Monroe Ave. when we came upon him, and I was only able to get him to walk behind us for a little bit before he disappeared into someone’s yard. I said a prayer for Dylan, hoping that he would not get run over by a car. Well, I just saw Dylan again: he was walking along the sidewalk across the street from our home, on leash with a man. Dylan seemed to be doing most of the leading in the walk. I am glad that he is safe, and on a leash.

I want to give blood to The Red Cross, tomorrow. Why not? I walked Bolton, and Mack, two of my neighbors’ dogs tonight, and was paid to do so. Maybe I ought to start a Dog Walking Business. I love Down Time, time where there is nothing that I have to do; and that is what I have now. Valentine’s Day is next week. Does Valentine’s day have anything to do with love?


I have scared people before

I’m attracted to false tits
but I don’t like Jim Carroll’s poetry.
He wrote a great book,
but I can’t figure out
what he is trying to say in his poems.
He was a decent sort, though.
I met him once.
He was a little weird,
but I really shouldn’t have been in
his dressing room,
handing him a cd of my poetry,
so he might have been nervous
about my presence.

–Mikel K

Think of me as an artist on the sidewalk, who you walk by
and are made happy by. If you are made happy by my
writing please put some money in my tip jar. They want
to turn out the lights, and I’m not talking a Doors song.


Mikel K (58 Posts)