The ongoing story of Jesus waking up in Chicago, in the body of an agnostic writer,
who is nothing like the Son of God the right-wing Christians watching him expected.

You are welcome to share my work with a link bank... keep getting asked this...

Last time I was here, I told them I would not lead a revolution, that I was there to spread heresy. The crowds thinned. The day they killed me, I marched alone... This time I have returned to find Romes Soldiers Sleeping, content they have killed off the Troublesome Jew. I was surprised how bloody the Indiana boy became as my sword fell again and again ....

In the years since this story began in 2007, my secret fame has spread out from the halls of power that kept me secret all these years, as they waited for the Christ to finally wake up...

I try to imagine their anticipation.

Remember a dream I had in my twenties about running thru Chicago screaming that Christ was coming back, and man oh man was I happy... a cloud came through the middle of the skyscrapers above me, in the thin strip of blue above Dowtown State street, and I expected to see Christ... instead, just a bunch of musicians painted up like Ziggy stardust.

I surprised my keepers. They thought they had me figured out from the Bible. If that book could have told you everything, there would be no need at all for me.

Jesus: "I have become Known across this planet as a dangerous man with a growing force of hidden followers who value my orders more than life itself. A prophet of war. Once and future King in a court of shadows. Life and death in my hands every damn day. I ROAR, your most mighty shit themselves and run. I make myself a known threat, so I can try to negotiate what otherwise requires bullets and blood. I am here to free the enslaved in body and mind. I cannot be defeated. When the Will of God and The WILL OF THE PEOPLE ARE ONE, NO FORCE ON EARTH CAN STOP US!"


We come into this life expecting too much and leave expecting too little

Friday, October 24, 2008

up all night

Living this artist life lets me get up when I want, sleep whenever. I nap a lot and then sometimes stay up all night. A lot of people envy me, with good reason. I worked hard to get here though, all those years of school and cab driving and living on next to nothing. Not that they were bad years.

Money was never a requirement for me to have fun. I mean, I like to have my pot, but sex and conversations and walks along the beach or the zoo and the free festivals here every weekend kind of making spending money something you can avoid.

No one has written about how great and mighty this city is. There is a spark lit laying by a puddle of gasoline. There is a poet with a pen in one hand, and a gun in the other. There is a young black kid, about twelve, who is trying to decide whether he wants to make a few hundred bucks a week or live in the poverty that has haunted him his whole life.... and me. I live the most integrated neighborhood in the most segregated city in the country. When we met a recent freind, an actor who just graduated from Columbia who is joining our actor troupe, and he is a black guy with dreads. And one of the first things he said to M and I, once we had bonded and figured out we all think in terms of revolution and change and racism, he told us that he was surprised we were not afraid of him. Both of us laughed at this -- he told us separately.

When I first moved here, I gave an autobiography of Frederick Douglas, because the passages on literacy are, to me, the most relevant writing since the bible. He told me, "Man, my friends don't even think white people like you exist. They hate all of you."

In the cab, I treated everyone the same; after having been a salesmen for a few years I knew how to put people at ease and get me tips, but mostly that is just the way I operate. Like saying hello to almost everyone I see on the street. I have to admit having a blue eyed, red Husky with a great big smile and a wagging tale makes me more accessible, but I say hello alone and get similar responses). As Nat and I walked our dogs tonight, I was telling him how dog walking was a renaissance, that people in the city were actually building communities based on talking while walking thier dogs. This is so true. People gather in the park and get to know each other, and the hellos eventually seep out into the entire neighborhood.

I am going to go watch the sun rise over the lake this morning. Just had a cup of coffee, a bowl of kind bud, a couple pain pills and a Valium, so I should be chemically prepared.

Some know, some don't.... I go by Johnny Pain because I have had my spine rebuilt with bones from my hips, a surgery they no longer use because you end up in chronic pain for the last fifty years of your life. Oh, well. I am not bitching. I have great doctors, and in a way, getting all the time off work gave me the space I needed to finish a few books. Life of course has a way of creating cliffs where you are sure there are gentle slopes.

I go to a new doctor today. The pain clinic at cook county is always trying to get me to go to some primary physician, but whenever I do, I don;t like them... one put me on medications that caused me amnesia and five seizures and months in hospitals.

Anyways... My kitten has proven to be about the best thing to happen to me in forever. The Husky footage of her mothering little gray Dash is about as precious as anything I have ever seen. You literally break into laughter at the site.

So I guess I will go to the doc's, go down and buy some paint at a store near there, and some lineseed oil... and a bit of loose canvas. I can't wait to put up these new paintings. We have the new camera, the dxg, but it doesn't want to work on my lap top, so we are setting up a pc this weekend.....

Big Love To All Of me sometime 773-339-8099

You are welcome to spread my poems by ANY MEANS NECESSARY.


There is some overlap... but they are all different.

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