By Tom H. Brooks 3
BACK IN SMOG CITY BY THE SEA……………………RETURN TO THE YUCCA ESTATES…………………..……….
Some things just never change…
For example, we`re still ALL crazy….
corkscrew like a black guitar,
the day was heaving hell,
and now you come
crawling down the drainpipes
emptying your bladder
all over the place,
and I have drunk 9
bottles of beer,
a pint of vodka,
smoked 18 cigarettes,
and still you sit upon me,
you march the dead out upon
the balcony of my brain;
at the window
one or two lights,
the city is dead
thieves and janitors,
and I am almost dead
too, so much gone,
and I raise the bottle
in the center of the room,
and you are everywhere
black imbecile night,
you are under my fingernails,
in my ears and mouth,
and here we stand
a giant and a midget
locked in disorder,
and when the first sun comes down
showing the spiders at work,
on razor threads,
you will let me go,
but now you crawl into
the tomb of my bottle;
you wink at me and posture,
the wallpaper is
weak with roses,
the spiders dream
of gold-filled flies
and I walk the room
light another cigarette
feeling I really should
but not quite knowing
(This genius poem PERFECTLY describes how I feel some nights in Hollywood at Yucca Estates….)
“It`s Not Who Lived Here…
but who died here;
and it`s not when
the known great
but the great who died unknown;
but the lives of men.
Fables are dreams,
when truth becomes
and the fire and
Downtown black dude at King Eddy`s Saloon….(5/26/07)
“I like my women with a big bitch booty…”
Dave and I downtown at Hop Louie`s in Chinatown; A Singapore Sling and an old-school
cigarette machine, smoking Camel bullets around 6:30pm….
sweet little stinkbag
I will oil
your shattered starfish
knows no escape
He goes in
but he can`t find
a way out
he searches blindly
through the tunnel
the roach motel
We are truly sick (and drunk and ALIVE…)
2 ancient Chinese women hobbling out of Hop Louie`s, just being classic old ladies from another world…
they said hello and we said the same and opened the door for them…
Then we rode out again into LA night…
Some chollo homies gave us a nice bud….a little street present; we don`t think it`s laced with PCP but you never know;
I guess WE`LL FIND OUT….(so what, anyway, I smoked it before when I was a kid by accident, no big whoop…)
A little after this, Dave ate SHIT on his bike. By some miracle he was ok. He dropped the bud he was holding in his
hand and by another miracle, my eagle-eye night vision spotted it on the grass nearby….
So, of course, we found a nice little spot to SMOKE IT….
When we got back to Hollywood later, the madness continued late into the night….really, it never ends…..
Early, EARLY morning delirium while waiting for a bus to Santa Monica Beach…..
“Can somebody please tell me what kind of a world we live in where a grown man
can dress up as a BAT and steal all my press?!?!”
Jack Nicholson “Joker”
adjusting to the new and improved LA Police State….
stick it and move
stick it and move
smoke it and move
drink it and move
stick it and move
“You can`t be a hoodlum anymore.”
D. W. Polston
YES, WE CAN
first impression of a Venice Beach street painting….
It makes me want to go sailing and lay in bed at the same time…
“If you`re a good girl, I`ll only use my pinkie, not my thumb…”
D. W. Polston
Mariner`s Village in Marina del Rey
an expensive charmer with an outdoor beer bar…..CHEEKY….
Wind-Up Bird Alley, Venice; this place is still overlooked and great for a beer/smoke break….
Venice Beach drum circle at sunset; it`s been a long time; sexy hippy girls dancing half naked; `nuff said……
“Peace Frog” Doors tribute band at Venice Bistro; pretty damn good but a l o n g way from Jim Morrison and the Doors….
Richard Pryor late night bender with Calvin at the Estates….
Steve Deputron (still my phone alias; it always comes up on caller id when I call someone…)
the most binding labor
trying to make it
under a sanctified banner.
similarity of intention
marks the fool from the
you can learn this at
any pool hall, racetrack, bar,
people run from rain
but still sit
in bathtubs full of water.
it is fairly dismal to know
that millions of people are worried
about the hydrogen bomb
yet they are already dead.
yet they keep trying to make
the Great Bartender
will lean forward
white and pure and strong
to tell you that you`ve had
just when you feel like
you`re getting started…”
“Eaten By Butterflies
maybe I`ll win the Irish Sweepstakes
maybe I`ll go nuts
maybe unemployment insurance or
a rich lesbian at the top of a hill
maybe reincarnation as a frog…
or $70,000 found floating in a plastic sack
in the bathtub
I need help
I am a fat man being eaten by
light the lamp
my teeth ache the teeth of my soul ache
I can`t sleep I
pray for the dead streetcars
the white mice
engines on fire
blood on a green gown
in an operating room in San Francisco
and I am caught
wild my body being there
filled with nothing but
me caught halfway between suicide
and old age
hustling in factories next to the
burning my blood like gasoline and
making the foreman
my poems are only scratchings
on the floor of a
I pulled a Keyser Soze; (“and like that…..he was gone…..”)
Later the same day, I`m under high noon clouds on a private patio at good old El Coyote.
It`s so good to be back in this place!! And for no reason except that I WANT to, I have
my very own “Days Inn” room at Sunset and Orange next to INnOUT Burger for two days.
I`m in room 204. I think I just needed sanctuary, which is next to impossible to find at
AHHHHH, BLESSED SILENCE……..SOLITUDE…….
just sitting by the pool, relaxing with a book….
Well, my old Sector 9 skateboard FINALLY broke around Genessee and Clinton behind Fairfax High School.
We`ve come a L O N G way together, but, true to form, I decided the time had come for abandonment. I left
it there for some kid to find and go to the trouble to try and fix it. It will take some work and some time that I
don`t have. I have many, MANY things to do. I am a very busy man. Whoever finds it, little will he know that
the MASTER has ridden it thousands of miles through New York, and LA and around America in the strangest
Oh, I`ll get a new board soon…
2 days of complete solitude and my main thoughts were…..
my dream place, my ultimate sanctuary is with my cute little wife, Chiharu….
come on home, baby….bring it to me, this dream, bring it to me……..
“I hold the world as it is;
all the world a stage,
and every man must play his part–
mine– a sad one…”
“The Merchant of Venice”
therefore, I am…”
“I don`t think,
therefore, I am not…”
Headline from The Onion;
“MY SPACE OUTAGE
LEAVES MILLIONS FRIENDLESS”
You know how we`re always yelling off the roof at Yucca Estates,
YLEM!! in general, disturbing the peace and being obnoxious drunks?
Well, it so happens that YLEM actually turns out to be an obscure
scientific term for the primordial fabric of the universe….how about that, eh?
(If you`re wondering WHY we yell that, there is a store across the street with this name…don`t ask me, I`m just tellin` ya….)
Some kid trying to upsell me a skateboard with double-level trucks, saying that, “it turns on a dime…”
Listen son, I turn on a dime anyway….
In LA, EVERYTHING is under surveillance.
“complications arose–ensued–were overcome…”
“I wanna jump off a cliff and not land…”
Back at Marmalade Cafe;
oh yeah, THIS is fucking great!
(If you`re not catching it, this is SARCASM)
a t-shirt I saw;
“EVERYTHING YOU LIKE,
I LIKED 5 YEARS AGO…”
“TRUTH” is often a matter of opinion…
THE GOOD OLD DAYS
IF YOU REMEMBER THEM…
Dave and Tom`s CRAZY drunk song on guitar…
you have to hear it WHEN DRUNK to appreciate its true insanity;
1 2 3 who put them in order?
What do you know?
Where did 4 go?
A B C who put them in order?
What do you see?
Where the big D?
Sky Moon Stars
What do you know?
Where`d the sun go?
Red White Blue
What do you know?
Where`d the stars go?
no no no
what do you know?
Where did yes go?
1 2 3 who put them in order?
What do you know?
Where did 4 go?
(and the madness goes on and on and on…we slip deeper into reckless, mad delirium….)
referring to a beastly monster of a tattooed psycho….
Me “Shit, I wouldn`t mess with that big motherfucker even if I had an AK….”
Dave “Damn, if I had an AK-47, I`d fuck with anybody…”
t-shirt I saw:
“two of us
you and me
on our way back home,
we`re on our way back home…”
“In searching out the truth, be ready for the unexpected,
for it is difficult to find and puzzling when you find it.”
regarding our insane skateboard runs at dawn in the Santa Monica parking structure 9 floors down, FULL SPEED>>>>>>>>>>>>>
“You can`t buy THAT in a pill.”
6/7/07 10:30am Venice Canals
Dave and I found a randomly drifting boat. He says, “get in….GET IN…” so I did.
We took a pedal boat for a little ride around the canals, smoking herb and drinking beer….CHEEKY…..
“You can`t make me look.”
“Nothing excites me anymore…”
“As long as I kept these pictures before my eyes, as long as I continued to study them with my complete attention, it was as though
he were still alive, even in death. Or if not alive, at least not dead. Or rather, somehow suspended, locked in a universe that had
nothing to do with death, in which death could never make an entrance.”
“The Invention of Solitude”
Yeah, I`m gonna write that in the book…
(I seem to be saying this all day long, every day…)
Yeah, I got a great picture of that, BUT IT`S IN STORAGE… (my new catch line…)
DON`T BE LIKE A SALMON FIGHTING ITS WAY UPSTREAM;
BE LIKE A BIG OLE BARREL FULL OF BEER FLOATING GENTLY DOWNSTREAM…
where the sun sinks behind hazy blue hills…
“I got an ATM in my house; put that in your book and smoke it…”
6358 Yucca #207
My temple of inwardness
“For Whom the Bell Tolls”
Last beer customer of the night at 7/11 at 1:59am; a rare and unexpected honor….
Talking to a paparazzi outside Yucca Estates; he gave us a first viewing of some celebrity fight pictures
and some shots of Britney Spears coming out of Joseph`s next door….
obnoxious little parasitic bastards….
6/13/07 7am Pasadena
Sunnyslope Park for a morning joint in the sunlight beneath the trees…
“Artists need to create
at the same scale
that society has
the capacity to destroy.”
“Only art is capable of dismantling the repressive effects of a senile
social system that continues to totter along the deathline.”
In a rare and momentary lapse of balance, I fell off my skateboard into an oily, muddy puddle of scum
and managed to splatter filth all over my clothes and back…………HA!!
It will never be again.
Memory as a place, as a building, as a sequence of columns, cornices, porticoes. The body inside
the mind, as if we were moving around in there, going from one place to the next, and the sound of
our footsteps as we walk, moving from one place to the next.
It will never be again.”
“The Book of Memory”
“Memory; the space in which something happens for the second time.”
“One day there is life. A man, for example, in the best of health, not even old, with no history of illness.
Everything is as it was, as it will always be. He goes from one day to the next, minding his own business,
dreaming only of the life that lies before him. And then, suddenly, it happens there is death. A man lets
out a little sigh, he slumps down in his chair, and it is death. The suddenness of it leaves no room for thought,
gives the mind no chance to seek out a word that might comfort it. We are left with nothing but death, the
irreducible fact of our own mortality. Death after a long illness we can accept with resignation. Even accidental
death we can ascribe to fate. But for a man to die of no apparent cause, for a man to die simply because he
is a man, brings us so close to the invisible boundary between life and death that we no longer know which side
we are on. Life becomes death, and it is as if this death has owned this life all along. Death without warning.
Which is to say: life stops. And it can stop at any moment.”
“Portrait of an Invisible Man”
“If there is any reason for him to be in this room now, it is because there is something inside him hungering
to see it all at once, to savor the chaos of it in all its raw and urgent simultaneity. And yet, the telling of it is
necessarily slow, a delicate business of trying to remember what has already been remembered. The pen
will never be able to move fast enough to write down every word discovered in the space of memory. Some
things have been lost forever, other things will perhaps be remembered again, and still other things have been
lost and found and lost again. There is no way to be sure of any of this.”
“The Book of Memory”
“What business are you in?”
ME: …..Disaster Management
I`m sorry when I`m rude or nasty;
Sometimes I just don`t have the
capacity to make inane smalltalk.
These memories live forever;
I was listening to Burning Spear, the song that goes with the upbeat, “We are FREE again…”
I remember birds chirping in the trees outside in Staten Island while inside our little apartment, Chiharu
and I were dancing and smoking herb together and laughing to this song while we got ready for our
honeymoon drive across America; supreme happiness. Now I sit here in my stupid little
Hollywood room with cracked walls, empty and sad, listening to this song and I get a tear in my eye…
“I have no words, my darling, to write this letter…I am writing it into empty space. Perhaps you will come back
and not find me here. Then this will be all you have left to remember me by. Life can last only so long. How
hard and long for each of us to die alone. Can this fate be for us who are inseparable? Puppies and children,
did we deserve this? Did you deserve this, my angel? Everything goes on as before. I know nothing. Yet,
I know everything–each day and hour of your life are plain and clear to me as in a delirium. I do not know
where you are. Will you hear me? Do you know how much I love you? I could never tell you how much I
love you. I cannot even tell you now. I speak to you, only to you, my love. You are with me always, and I
who was such a wild and angry one and never learned to weep simple tears–now I weep and weep…It`s me,
my dearest. Where are you?”
a letter by Nadezhda Mandelstam to his wife (never sent) ….dated 10/22/38
(casualties of WW2)
We will be together again soon…
(I have to keep this hope alive…)
Great LA t-shirt
A picture of George Bush Senior, President from 1989 to 1992…
“I SHOULD HAVE PULLED OUT”
“I write for those on whom the black ox hath trod.”
6/17/07 Father`s Day…
I looked in the mirror tonight in my empty room in my stupid work uniform and I realized that I looked
like a poor, financial-failure version of my dad at 38 when I was like 5 years old. I laughed and laughed…
(boy, that was a howler…)
Most people are trained to eat at certain times of the day; you know, the factory/corporate slave version of when to eat;
7 to 8am for breakfast, 12 noon for lunch, and around 6 for dinner. I do not adhere to these prescribed times. I just eat when I`m hungry, whenever that may be…
6/18/07 2am Blue Monday…
I was listening to Miles Davis and John Coltrane on Kind of Blue, track 3. I had a vision…
I was walking along a river with cherry blossoms falling all around. Across the river was Chiharu, radiant
and beautiful in a flowing Japanese print dress, her hair loose and blowing in the soft breeze under one
of her cutest hats. The river flowed, the cherry blossoms fell, and we looked at each other across the
river. Her eyes melted into mine, and mine into hers. We were just looking for a bridge to cross, to meet
in the middle with a kiss and a warm embrace, and then jump into the river together to float all through this
life to all places, together, to a forgotten city called HOME…
“It`s a Dead Man`s Party,
who could ask for more?…”
“AZALEA” Louis Armstrong with Duke Ellington
“eventually all of us lost people will find where we wanna be…”
A black dude I was talking to in Santa Monica
a HUGE fire in Santa Monica….ashes falling from the sky….
apocalyptic, as fires usually are….
A gentleman and a scholar
and a philosopher…
Oliver, in my old apartment, 301, is a top-shelf character…
“You can`t take the effect and make it the cause…”
The White Stripes
I FEEL LIKE I AM FORGETTING SOMETHING,
BUT I FORGOT WHAT IT IS…
“Just cause you got a lot of stories to tell
doesn`t mean you`re a storyteller….”
“Just because you ARE a character
doesn`t mean you HAVE character.”
“Mr. Wolf” from “Pulp Fiction”
Malibu Dawn Saturday 6/23/07
and then to the Santa Monica Pier…
I don`t even know why I got out of bed this morning…
oh yeah, THIS is it….
SOUTH SOUTH SOUTH>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
everything is beautiful…..
even the pain…
Hermosa Beach Heaven at 5pm
Zeppy`s Pizza/ Redondo Beach Pier 7pm….I used to come here when I was in high school….
It`s not that good…
Dave and I have ridden EVERYWHERE today.
We did more today than most people do in a lifetime….
“HE WALKS BACK AND FORTH ACROSS THE ROOM, FROM THE
WALL TO THE WINDOW. HE FINDS A FRESH SHEET OF PAPER.
HE LAYS IT OUT AND WRITES THESE WORDS WITH HIS PEN.
IT WILL NEVER BE AGAIN.
THAT`S ALL, FOLKS!!