BEATNIK BASHED ON THE INNER EAR ROCKS

Facebook tells me on an irritatingly regular basis that readers of this blog are craving to hear from me. The memoir is coming along very slowly, nearly not at all. I have far too many dizzy days, and when those days are upon me, not a creative spark appears in my synaptic self, and he's the self who writes for me and which my conscious self recognizes after the fact. As no doubt you all know by now, if you keep up with evolutionary biology, the conscious self exists as about five or six constantly changing pieces of data which is all the human animal can retain in its consciousness at any one time. Consciousness is a flickering moment to moment existence at best, and when one is dizzy on a regular basis, consciousness becomes an even more fractured phenomenon.

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Why am I dizzy and what can be done about it? Decades ago, I consulted an eye ear nose guy, and he said the little hairs in my inner ear, awash in and reacting to the fluid sloshing around in there are getting flattened and worn down with age and inactivity. He said it would only get worse. He was right. 

I continue to send out pieces of writing and get regular rejections. I fear my work is out of date. I truly like my 8 line poetry, specially the simplest clearest expression of my thinking, but clarity is not in fashion. And that's okay. 

REWRITE REWRITE, RIGHT?

Hello! Hell, times fly and seniors stumble. According to blog aficionados, I've been too many days between entries, but blogdarnit, I'm not an aficionado of blogs. Here's the latest news. I'm on my 4th? my 5th? or my 6th? rewrite of Ghoul World. I don't know. Each time I rewrite I attempt to cut away dross, make my sentences more straightforward. I did this morning have an idea for a new story appear from the hidden realms of my brain into consciousness which, it so happens, is only capable of holding 7 thoughts or words or images at any one time. Such is the fragmented nature of human reality. I also strongly intend to got to Ghost Town open mic where I've been absent for all the 8 months while I learned of and had my prostate cancer irradiated. I'm going to read four poems from my cancer chapbook. Each day I feel my strength returning, and I push my exercises to more intensity. Have I mentioned that before treatment I used to do 20 to 25 sit ups, but now can do but 3 or 4? Stopping here. Gotta dash home and make spaghetti for supper.