Whatever - Final Nov12

Dedication
to F. G. L.
from F. G. L.

Those who know don’t speak,
and those who speak don’t know.

-Lao Tzu

Contents

I Prose .............................................................................. 7
No time ............................................................................ 9
Magic ................................................................................ 10
The Shell Collector and His Wife ................................... 22
A Thousand Years Later .................................................. 24
I Want to Stop Wanting .................................................. 25
Living Twice ...................................................................... 27
A Lesson For My Father ................................................. 28
Shadows ............................................................................ 31
Pocket Potential ............................................................... 32
Snow and an Owl ............................................................. 36
The Tortoise and the Camel ............................................ 38
The Fourth King .............................................................. 42
The Greatest Show on Earth (November 2008) ............ 43
Wall Clock ........................................................................ 45
Where did that Boy Get Off to Anyway! ...................... 47

II Dramatic Writing ....................................................... 47
The Snows of Aconcagua ................................................ 49

III Manifestations ........................................................... 65

IV Lyrics ........................................................................... 83
Whatever You Love Let It Save You ............................... 85
The Four Reasons ............................................................ 86
Leaving Home .................................................................. 87
The Beautiful Things ....................................................... 88
Tell Me Why Again .......................................................... 89
Don’t ................................................................................ 90
In Accordance With the Law .......................................... 91
Objects in Winter ............................................................ 92
Our Job ............................................................................ 93
One Last Power ............................................................... 94
Boat Gunnel Summer ...................................................... 95
Chal .................................................................................. 96
Dinner Invitations Can Be Informal Too ...................... 97
Ancient Steppe Song of Asia .......................................... 98
An Uninterrupted View .................................................. 99
A Vikings Tomorrow ....................................................... 100
May I Interrupt You? ....................................................... 101
Modes of Transportation ................................................. 103
On Your Own .................................................................. 104
Just One ........................................................................... 105
It’s Long Overdue ........................................................... 106
Instead .............................................................................. 107
I Have and I Have Not ................................................... 108
Her Canoe Ride ............................................................... 109
Because of the Danger ..................................................... 111
Apples at Trees ................................................................. 112
New Whales and Ancient Lions ..................................... 113
Night Spa .......................................................................... 115
Tempos Fugit ................................................................... 116
The Beagle ........................................................................ 117
Ushuaia ............................................................................. 118
The Love of Green ........................................................... 119
The Everlasting ................................................................ 120
Us,s ................................................................................... 121
Waiting For Madison ....................................................... 122
To a Meadow Mouse ........................................................ 123
The Sharpness .................................................................. 124
The One Thing You Can’t Fake ..................................... 125
To Those Who Know Whom I’m Talking To ................ 127
You’re Not An All Black Cat .......................................... 128
Rabbit Park ....................................................................... 129
Why Tortoise Make Perfect Pets .................................... 130
What If ............................................................................. 131
The Highlander’s Dream ................................................ 132
Stillness ............................................................................. 133
The Deformity ................................................................. 134
Our Time .......................................................................... 135
Random Exposures .......................................................... 136
Sleep’s Chance ................................................................. 137
Stained Paper is Good ..................................................... 138
Reality ............................................................................... 139
Sanctuary .......................................................................... 140
Shut This Book ................................................................ 141
Somewhere Else ............................................................... 143
The Most Important Thing In The World ..................... 144

Prose
8 Whatever You Love Let It Save You

Whatever You Love Let It Save You 9

no time

Once upon a time in Argentina, there lived an
old man and his son. They owned a little cattle ranch
and when the bottom fell out of the cattle market they
discussed what to do.
“We should sell out right now, before it gets
worse,” said the son.
“No, we should wait it out,” replied the old man.
“No,” said the son, “I don’t have time to wait, I’m
younger than you are.”

Magic

On a dark, rainy, autumn afternoon in Paris, a
limousine pulled up in front of one of the oldest and
largest houses in the city. Out of the back stepped a tall
elegantly dressed man in a long black cloak. He quickly
crossed the wet street, stopped, collected himself, then
walked up and rang the bell. A heavy door opened
revealing an ancient and grave butler.
“You are the magician?” asked the butler.
“I am,” said the visitor. “I am Frank Wallace and I
have an appointment with Madame.”
“An appointment?” repeated the butler casting a
sideways glance.
“A, a, visit,” replied Wallace. “I wrote a letter to
Madame.”
“Yes, Madame is expecting you, please come in.
Your coat? Please wait in here, I will announce you.”
Wallace was escorted into a small circular library.
He walked slowly twice around the circumference of
the little room and stopped in front of the tall Italian
windows facing onto the street.
He clasped his hands behind his back and looked
out at the rain plinking down into the puddles on the
sidewalk below. Now changing his focus, using the

window as a mirror, he examined his own image. This
is the kind of a house I belong in thought Wallace to
himself.
“Monsieur Wallace, Madame will see you now,”
announced the returning butler.
“Oh, good,” replied Wallace, slightly startled.
He was escorted down a series of wide, urn lined
halls and finally through double doors into a much
larger library with a cheery, crackling fire.
“The magician, Madame,” announced the butler,
bowing slightly to an impossibly thin elderly lady lying
with her feet up on a Chesterfield sofa amongst all sorts
of magazines, books and newspapers. Two little blue
eyed jet black kittens were playing in and out under the
sofa.
“Ah, Monsieur Wallace, it is my great pleasure,”
she said in French, then immediately correcting herself,
started again in English.
“Forgive me for not getting up, but, this,” she
said looking down at an enormous cast which covered
her entire right leg.
“Oh, that looks painful; you took a nasty fall
perhaps?” offered Wallace.
“Well, the horse did, but we were always taught
to blame yourself not the horse,” she said with a full
laugh. “Please sit down Monsieur Wallace. Will you take
something warm? This autumn has been so cold, really,
the worst in years.”
And as she said this, she pulled up the collar of
her black turtle neck sweater higher around her neck
and ears jokingly dramatizing the cold.

“Now, what would you like for tea?” she asked, “I
am having hot chocolate, I think.”
“No, I’m fine, nothing thank you,” said Wallace
“Oh well maybe coffee,” he said nodding.
“Ah, good, what kind would you like?”
“Just coffee, coffee,” he replied.
“Then American style perhaps?” she suggested.
“Yes, yes thank you,” he said.
She turned to the waiting butler and gave the
order for tea.
“Excuse me,” said Wallace hesitantly, “but in what
language were you just now speaking to him?”
“French!” she said quickly, and grabbing up one of
the kittens she held it on it’s hind legs, playfully dancing
with it on her chest as if to change the subject.
“Ah, now then,” she started in a different tone.
“So again, Monsieur Wallace, I’m so glad you came to
see me and to learn all about my sister. Yes, the Great
Wallace, I read of your new shows every time greater
and more mystifying. The greatest magician of our time
they say and I do believe.”
“You flatter me,” said Wallace, with a broad smile,
“but nothing in comparison with your sister.”
“Now you flatter us,” she said with a bow of her
head towards Wallace. “And Paris?” she went on, “how
do you find our terribly rainy city?”
“Oh, I know it well, I have performed here all of
my life and with my father and his magic shows. As a
boy after my mother died, I began traveling with my
father. We practically lived from one five star hotel to
another; here we always stayed at the Ritz. I’m staying

there now. You of course know it well?” he said.
“Yes, maybe too well,” she said with a smile,
rolling her eyes as if savoring an inside joke. “I’ve not
set foot inside for twenty years but I’m sure it’s just as
beautiful as ever,” said the old lady.
“Paris is so beautiful,” reiterated Wallace, leaning
forward, now warming to the conversation. “So many
beautiful things all around you,” he went on.
“Yes, it’s true,” she said, “But when one lives in a
city surrounded by so many beautiful things, sadly one
tends to neglect them after a while.”
“What is ever present tends to be eventually
overlooked,” he replied.
“Well yes,” she said, “and that is a fundamental
principle to your craft, is it not?”
“I suppose it is,” said Wallace slightly taken
aback.
The conversation was temporarily halted with the
arrival of afternoon tea which was set out and served
not without some formality.
“Well then,” the old lady continued, “we were
talking about the skills of magicians.”
“Yes, and the purpose of my trip to see you,”
he said reaching forward to sequester one of the tiny,
crustless sandwiches.
“And to learn of my sister and her secret,” she
went on.
“Your sister was the greatest mentalist of our
century,” he said as if to inform, “it is the only mentalist
act whose secret has never been solved, a continual
mystery and subject of interest in our type of circle. I

have admired your sister’s talent all of my career. Really
an inspiration for me even though I’ve never thought of
myself as a mentalist, but as an illusionist, as you know.
And I have an extensive collection of all the old
newspaper clippings of her opening performances,” he
went on, “And well, I’ve read so much about her career,
I feel like I know so much about her life; as an adult
that is, but there was never anything written about her
childhood. I mean, how did she become a magician
and a mentalist? Did she learn her skills starting out as
an assistant to one of the great Paris magicians of the
time?”
“No,” the old lady replied, “the conjuring tricks
she learned just by reading books by the famous
magicians, but the other thing, the magic well, she
learned that from the gypsies.”
“Gypsies?” asked Wallace, drawing back.
“Yes, she grew up with them,” she replied.
“Your sister was of a very poor family?” he went

on.
“It was of enormous wealth,” she said softly. “Our
grandfather held one of the oldest titles in France.”
“But you said she grew up with gypsies?” he
pressed.
“Yes, they lived on the property. They were
what was left of the descendents of a gypsy orchestra
that had been with us and played for our family for
generations. In those days houses like that had their
own little orchestra. What was left of them in the time
of our childhood, well, it was too small to be called an
orchestra, by then really just a little group.

But anyway, they still lived on the property and
played for us every night. And my sister, even as a very
little girl would get up and twirl and dance with them
as they played. Our grandmother and mother said it
was unseemly for her to dance with gypsies but my
grandfather would clap and allow it, as he always allowed
her anything. By then you see, I was mostly away in
school in Switzerland and except for the old nurses she
really had no one to play with.
So she had the gypsies, she loved them and they
loved her. She called them her elves. But that was another
time, another world,” she said with a sigh, returning her
attention to Wallace.
“Your sister’s life was as fantastic as her
performances,” he said.
“Yes, it was that, but back to you Monsieur
Wallace, and your quest”, she redirected.
“Ever since I saw your sister perform I’ve been
obsessed with the secret of her mentalist act. As a
magician and a historian of magic I consider it the holy
grail of mentalism,” he continued, “for my sake, allow
me in your presence to reiterate the act that made her
so famous.”
“Certainly,” the old lady said.
Wallace, now in a tone as if to give a performance
himself cleared his throat and began.
“It’s simplicity was its essence and its mystery.
For twenty years on the greatest stages of the greatest
cities of the world her act remained unchanged. All the
greatest magicians of the time came to see her perform,
yet none could solve it.

Each night at the end of her regular magic show
she performed her famous mentalist act. She would ask
for a volunteer from the audience to come up on stage.
She instructed them to place a blindfold over her eyes.
An assistant came on stage, gave the volunteer a fresh
deck of cards and again left the stage. Your sister would
instruct the volunteer to crack open the deck and shuffle
the cards. She then asked them to randomly pick a card,
show it to no one, remember the card, and to replace the
card back into the deck.
Finally your sister would tell the volunteer to
throw the entire deck into the consuming flames of a
caldron. This having been done, the assistant turned
out onto the floor the now only ashen contents of the
caldron.
Remaining on the opposite site of the stage with
blindfold still intact your sister was informed by the
assistant that the caldron contents had been dumped
out. She would then cry out ‘Oh Phoenix, I beseech
thee, reconstruct for me now in my mind’s eye the
chosen card burnt asunder.’ A consequent hush would
fall over the audience: Suddenly, your sister would cry
out the full identity of the card to the audience and
upon assertion of its correctness by the volunteer, a
thunderous applause would ensue.”
“Exactame!” exclaimed the old lady.
“Fabulous, simply fabulous,” said Wallace
slumping back into his chair.
The two sat in silence, staring into the fire. A
sudden, loud pop from an ember startled them back
into the present. The old lady was the first to speak.
“Monsieur Wallace, having read your letter, I

am obviously aware of the purpose of your visit. You
said that my sister’s secret was a passion for you and
in a strict business proposal you offered to buy it at
any price. I appreciate the candid nature of your letter,
but I must now offer an equally candid statement. By
accepting your visit I realize I gave you a greater than
equal hope that I would consent to your offer. But I
must confess to you that I had absolutely no intention
of telling you the secret. As you know I have always
refused many similar offers. So I apologize for my lack
of honesty. I guess I was flattered that the Great Wallace
would be interested in the world of my sister. You see,
old people like company because no one really chooses
to talk to us because we tend to talk only of the past.”
“But that’s exactly what I’m interested in, the
past,” said Wallace. “Madame, it’s getting late and I
don’t want to tire you with your leg, so let me get right
to the point. As I have said, the secret is the holy grail
to me and I am used to getting what I want. As I wrote,
I was willing to offer you a very large sum of money,
but now having seen your house, I’m a bit embarrassed.
I must say, I had no idea,” he stopped in mid sentence,
lowering his head.
“Oh I see,” she said, “perhaps you expected to find
a little old lady in a one room flat in Pigale, immersed in
dog-eared tarot cards and incense?”
“No, no, it’s just that, well, people in America
don’t actually live in houses like this. We have them,
but they’re more like museums filled with old museum
pieces.”
“Yes, like me, an old museum piece,” she said
laughing and coughing at the same time.

“Look,” he said, “it’s obvious that I can’t entice you
with money, but maybe with the idea that your sister’s
performance and so her memory can live on through”
he hesitated, “well, live on through my show.”
“Your show?” she asked.
“Yes, well, I’m a bit embarrassed, but to tell you
the truth my people are already preparing to include the
act in my upcoming season’s tour. Your sister’s name
would be featured in the headline with mine, of course.”
he added quickly.
The old lady flashed a stern glance at Wallace that
turned into an ambiguous smile.
“I like your confidence, yes, a magician needs
confidence, but you overstep yourself with your
presumption. Your reputation proceeds you and what
I have read and seen personally of your show, you have
great skill as a magician. But, if I gave you the secret it
would serve you not as you could not perform it. And
I say this with all the respect that I have for your ability
as a magician.”
Wallace rose up in his chair and stiffened.
“Are you telling me you doubt my ability to
perform the act even if I had the full knowledge of the
secret?”
“No,” she said now softening, “it’s simply that no
one else but my sister could perform it.”
“Are you telling me that she was truly clairvoyant?”
he went on.
“No, no, she was not clairvoyant. What I’m telling
you is that it is of no use if the person does not have the
magic to perform it.”

“But you just told me that you think I have great
skill as a magician!” he said, his voice rising.
“Yes,” she said slowly, “but there’s all the difference
in the world between being a magician and having magic.
Some great magicians have magic and some do not and
some who aren’t magicians at all have plenty of magic
as well.”
Wallace pursed his lips and let out a sigh. “I don’t
know anything about all that, but look Madame, if it’s
matter of price, well, I can go way beyond a million
dollars. I won’t insult your sensibilities by offering the
money to you but there must be some charity, some, I
simply must have…”
Wallace was stopped in mid sentence by the old
lady’s gaze. She slowly and deftly swung around on the
couch now placing both feet flat on the floor. She lit
her first cigarette of the conversation with a meaningful
click of a heavy alabaster lighter. Turning toward Wallace,
she spoke with a grave and measured tone.
“Alright, Monsieur Wallace, I will make a bargain
with you. In fact, I will tell you the secret, though with it
you will not be able to perform it and as such you will be
greatly disappointed. At the least, your curiosity will be
satiated and at most, you may become enlightened as to
the difference between magicians and magic. And after
I have held up my part of the bargain, you may choose
as you wish, to pay someone, anyone, some number of
millions or not. It is of to me no importance. But know
now that after the death of my sister there is not a living
soul with this knowledge, except me, and now you, in
short time.
To learn my sister’s secret you must learn of her

magic and of her pain as well. Remember I told you
that when my sister was young, she grew up on our
grandfather’s estate. Close your eyes, Monsieur Wallace
and come with me now back to that world. Picture a
little girl, a little child, living in a paradise with every
lovely thing surrounding her; her mother, her father, her
grandparents, her fat ponies and the gypsies, her elves as
she called them. Picture that world, for yourself.
Then, picture one calm, sunny morning, German
soldiers drive up your driveway. And in an instant, all
that world disappears. Suddenly, your mother grabs you
and gives you to the gypsies and says, go, flee with your
elves, they will save you.
And so you go with them, and as you look back,
you see all of your family is killed and all is burned. And
so she fled with her gypsies into the hills and they hid
her as only gypsies can. And they were one with her
as their entire history is of flight and of exile as well.
So she lived with the gypsies and she learned their dark
ways.
And they said we will teach you our magic. And
the magic she learned from them was the power over
others through the magic of attraction.”
“Monsieur Wallace, have you ever fallen in love at
first sight?” she asked.
“Yes,” said Wallace, nodding, his eyes still closed.
“Monsieur Wallace, have you ever lied for a
woman?” she asked.
“Yes, oh yes,” replied Wallace.
“Open your eyes magician!” she commanded.
“For twenty years on stages all over the world,

my sister pulled off her blindfold and told the audience
the name of the chosen card, and for twenty years,
the volunteers verified it to the astonished audience.
Monsieur, for all those nights, for all those years, my
sister had absolutely no idea what the identity of those
cards were. How could she? It would be impossible.
She just made up the name of any card each time
and trusted that each new volunteer would play along
with her and confirm the correctness of the card.
By this you see, she was putting herself in the
position of ultimate vulnerability and as such the
volunteers loved her for it. That was the power she
understood well. That was a lesson she learned from the
gypsies, the power over others through the attraction
of her own vulnerability. And when those volunteers
stepped up on stage and beheld her, somehow they
just fell under her spell. They would simply turn to
the audience and confirm the card. Through her very
presence she had formed an immediate bond with the
volunteers. And now, suddenly they were part of her
performance. And now suddenly they were sharing a
secret together, forever. So you see, Monsieur, that’s all
there was to it. That was the secret.”
“Secret, secret?” exploded Wallace now leaping
up out of his chair, eyes bulging, “Are you telling me
that for twenty years your sister, without fail, got each
and every volunteer to instantaneously lie for her? That
Madame!” he shrieked ,“was fraud!”
“No, Monsieur,” she whispered, “That was
magic.”

The Shell Collector and his Wife

Once upon a time in a remote coastal village,
there lived a young shell collector and his wife. And
each day from their humble shack the man would set
out to comb the beach for beautiful shells to collect and
sell to the visitors.
One day the birds began acting strangely, well
water levels dropped suddenly, and tortoises hid in the
shells. The villagers all took this as a sign of an impending
tsunami. And soon the ocean actually did begin to pull
back dramatically from the shore.
“Ah!” said the shell collector to his wife, “this is
my once in a life time chance to find special shells never
seen before. I will run out and grab them before the
giant wave hits and with these we’ll make a fortune.”
“No, please!” cried his wife in terror. “Don’t go, I
love you more than a fortune!”
Ignoring these words of wisdom and affection,
the shell collector ran head long out onto the now, vast
expanse of the receeding sea. And at the furthest point
of the beach, he found not shells, but instead, a heavy
iron box, laden with priceless jewels; apparently lost
from a sunken ship some unknown centuries before.
With strength equal to his delight, he lugged the entire
treasure back to the shore.

And with this untold wealth, the man founded
one of the most powerful dynasties in the land. And
though he went on to build and live in palaces, his wife
chose to live out all the rest of her life in their original
shack; alone.

a thousand Years Later

And so I sit upon a fine sofa in a hotel a thousand
years later and I read about the meaning of the boar on
my crest. And I think ho, ho my young lad, now what
do you know about it. I read your article and you tell
me its meaning of food for the warriors. But how dare
you write the word “warrior” without at least having
had one limb hacked off somewhere in the frozen mud
of our time and trees. What do you know of the spirit of
sacrifice and success and slave girls won and quenched
on a pine needle floor of a tent after war and the son and
a wolf all in one?
Well, I’ll put the magazine closed now back in its
rack and ruin my afternoon by returning to the street of
cars instead of cairns.

I Want to Stop Wanting

Convert “I want” to “I am”; that’s what I want
to do. Maybe the most reductionistic way of describing
humans to a potential alien visiting our plant would be
to say that we are Non-Stop Wanting Machines.
When was the last time you just sat still and
didn’t want something? For example, I continue reading
this because I want to know what comes next or I
want to finish somework in my office because I want to
go home, because I want to eat dinner, and so on and so
forth.
Or on a higher level I want a good job because I
want to make decent money, because I want to support
my family, etc., etc.
Nothing wrong with all these wants but when
you think about it, we are non-stop wanters. I want you
to read this because I want you to understand what I am
talking about regarding the topic of wanting and I want
…, Ah! You see, its endless, all this wanting.
Try it sometime. Just sit quietly doing nothing
and see how many seconds (if any) you can last without
having a want statement cross your mind. Tough, isn’t
it? I say it’s damn near impossible.
Somehow “want” entails change. I want often
means I want a change in environment or circumstance.
Well then, maybe contentment is our solution against
wanting. Think of a time when you’re content with no

desire for change. You’re in the arms of your favorite
person or you’re in your favorite spot. Well how about
this? You have no wants in this scenario. But oh no!
You’re so happy and content, so cozy. So what do you
say to yourself? Oh, I’m so happy I don’t want this
ever to change, well that’s a want, isn’t it?. Wanting it
to continue, wanting no change. So what all this really
shows us is that we are doomed to constantly be thinking
of the future. “Oh this is so nice right here, I don’t want
(i.e. in the future) it to stop.”
So, digging a little deeper into all of this, maybe
we are really talking about how almost exclusively
future thinking our minds are. And of the past with
remembrances as well. So then, when are we in the
present? I suggest just upon wakening, just before
falling asleep, in a extreme physical pain, or in extreme
physical ecstasy, and I can’t think of any other time.
So its seems our mental life consists of remembering,
planning, very little else, and when speaking, all the
wants are present, rather if they are spoken of or not. I
bet there are few types of communications of commands
that wouldn’t entail the word “want” in it outside of a
pure description.
A command “open the door”, converts to “I want
you to open the door”. A story about yesterday, about
seeing a brown dog, for example, converts to “I want
you to know something about my yesterday”.
Even if you try consciously to stop wanting, well
then you’re wanting to stop wanting.
Oh, silence, peace, I want a solution to be only in
the present without wanting and not to wait to be dead
to get there.

Living twice

I think everyone has one defining occurrence in
their life. And it does just that; it defines them. They
know it when they’ve had it. A challenge, a wall, a turning
point, a chance for an annihilation or rebirth. And it’s
not a bad thing, it’s just a thing that has happened, an
Occurrence.
And with this, a clarification of oneself. Where you
go, with whom. What’s the best feeling of all the feelings
you could choose and what’s the best set up to get that
feeling? Because we can build our real world just like
we can build our day dreams or our nightmares; tailor
made to our liking. So that one defining occurrence, if
we survive it, tells us that we can live through anything
and that we only live twice.
The first life when we say in passing, “If I die,
such and such …” and our second life when we say,
“Before I die such and such…”.

a Lesson For My Father

And when the Son of God returned to God and
beheld the face of God and sat at the right hand of God
he spoke to his Father thus.
“Oh my Father, I now see that there are many
things that you do not know, and have never known and
this troubles me much.”
And God said, “That is impossible my son, for as
God, I am the all powerful and the all knowing. I know
all things that ever have been and all things that ever will
be. There is nothing I do not know.”
And the Son said, “No my Father, there are things
that you do not know. Uncertainty. As you know all
things that are and ever will be you can never have known
uncertainty. Weakness. As you are all powerful you can
never have known weakness. Fear. The fear of death,
that fear of facing non-existence. As you have always
been and always will be, you can never have known this
fear. Enlightenment. For to know enlightenment one
must first pass through a state of ignorance. As you are
all knowing, you can never have known this.
Oh yes my Father, I now see that there are many
things that man knows that you have never known. And
the saddest of all this is that you can never have known
true joy, for only through having known uncertainty

and weakness and fear, can one then truly know joy.
As when a child is in danger and a parent is unable to
help, that parent knows uncertainty and weakness and
fear that you have never known. And likewise, when the
child is returned, the parent experiences a joy you will
never know as well.”
And God then spoke, “Truly my Son, there
are many things of man that you have known that I
have not, but of the last of which you speak, you are
mistaken. When I sent you into the world I gave you
that same most important thing which I gave to all men,
I gave you free will. And as such, you were free to do
as you will, free from My Will Be Done. And you as all
men were free to do as you chose. And so you led your
life on earth as you chose, as you thought was right for
you as a man and as you thought was right for you as
the Son of God.
At that very instant when I gave you free will I
relinquished my direct power to affect you and to
protect you. And as such, I did then know uncertainty,
and weakness, and fear; for the first time. And finally,
I did know joy: that joy of a parent when their child
returns from danger. I did know that joy when you
came back to me.
So you see not only have you learned what it is
to be a man by being on earth as a man, but so I have
learned as well, not by being a man on earth, but by
feeling as a parent, as your father.
I am the Almighty God. I know all things that
are, have been, and ever will be. But now for the first
time I, like you, have experienced what it is to be a man.
And that makes all the difference in the world between

the knowing and the experiencing; and that difference
is wisdom.
I sent you to earth not only for you to learn but
for me to learn as well. And I have learned through you.
I have learned of uncertainty, and of weakness, and of
fear and of joy. And now only through these can I truly
know and offer forgiveness to man.”
“I thank you, my Father,” said the Son.

Shadows

What if for one day or for one hour or for one
whatever you like, all you did was to look at shadows;
focusing your attention only on the shadows of
everything, not the object casting the shadows?
Because why is the object the important thing and
the shadow, the remnant, the residue, the unimportant?
And what if the object’s existence was for the sole
purpose of creating the shadow instead? And what if
you looked at the shadows of your own life, the effect
you cast on the world and on others?
Are we anything more than just an object that
blocks out energy from a space that we control by our
own actions?
Do we dare to look at the shadows we cast on the
world?

Pocket Potential

As a kid, pockets are all potential. When I was a
kid, not on schooldays, but on the really important days,
the weekends and vacations, the first thing I would do
in the morning was to plan out what I would put in my
pockets. This would define my whole day.
The first thing that would typically go into my
pockets was a cereal box toy survival kit, just in case
I got lost in the wilderness of my backyard. This kit
consisted of a whistle and a compass combination and
a tiny place to put stuff in, all in the shape of a plastic
whale’s tooth. This I had unearthed from the Captain
Crunch Cereal Box (of course, before eating any of the
cereal). On these mornings in which I felt there was a
significant chance of being lost for days in the backyard,
the Pocket theme would obviously be “survival”.
And so I would pocket this compass gizmo; also
in would go a pocket knife, a string, a tiny flashlight,
matches (no, too young, not allowed, but could
fantasize about including these matches) small ball and
maybe a yo-yo to pass the endless days while waiting to
be rescued or use these to trade with potentially hostile
cannibals in the wilderness.
Well, anyway, my whole day’s theme would be set
each morning according to what kind of stuff I put in

my pockets. Some days I would go way overboard with
how many different things I would put in my pockets;
to the inability to even ride my bike.
Well the next time I turn around, I was putting
my hands in my pockets of a long white coat and I was
a medical resident. As residents and especially, certainly
as interns, we knew, and we knew we knew absolutely
nothing. So we carried everything in those big pockets
of our embarrassingly new white coats. And each pocket
was assigned by culture certain sacred objects of our
art.
Stethoscope folded just right in our side pockets,
a ophthalmoscope (this was always a killer as it was so
heavy), rubber reflex hammer and tourniquet rubber
ribbon for blood draws. All that stuff on one side of the
coat. Then, on the other side, the peripheral portable
walking library. The pocket books on this other side
counterbalancing all the heavy tools on the other side.
(Picture the classic Chinese dining room wall paper with
the peasant walking with that yoke deal on his shoulders
with the baskets on both sides for balance).
Now the pocket books had to be chosen well,
as only two could possibly fit and besides more would
obviously expose our ignorance. Typically, our two
bibles; Pocket Harrison’s Principles of Internal Medicine
and The Washington University Manual of Therapeutics.
The top chest pocket was always dedicated to
plastic eye charts and an impossible number of pens;
all complements of the (essential for our nutritional
survival) drug rep lunches. And also always in this top
pocket was the set of index cards of all your patients’s
info held together with that classic black clip thing

(which would be snapped according to conversational
emphasis requirements).
For four years, those pockets were my saddle bags
for my journey through hospital life. Not as much fun
as the pockets of my childhood but equally defining of
myself at that time.
Well now my world is very different, and it is less
defined. And I’m not surprised to find that my pockets
don’t contain any typicals. Maybe a sudden pocket
check for my reading glasses, the Oh-my-God-did-I-
forget-them sort of checks.
But I’m sure pretty soon, my pockets will once
again be redefined. As an adult they always offer many
possibilities, for example, when you go to try on a jacket
to buy, you always say, “Wow, look at all these pockets”
and you’re always secretly disappointed if some of them
are sewn shut.
Now pockets can also be portable secret holders;
that receipt you don’t want your spouse to see or that
wad of cash. Put your hand in a loved one’s pocket
and hold their hand as a treat. It’s all that stuff you can
do in secret in front of others that make pockets so
worthwhile. Your pocket is your partner in secrets.
One certainly can even smuggle some small
animals into a hotel in large enough blazer pockets. But
more, they can set your mood. Now who doesn’t feel
just a little bit more jaunty by putting their hands in
their Harris tweed jacket pockets or who doesn’t fell
more thoughtful when striding along outside on a rainy
days with both hands in your pants pockets.
The possibilities are endless. So “Hurray” I say for
pockets and let’s create a federal holiday and celebrate

them.
Pockets are all potential for you to fill them with
your special life as they are a symbol of all the potential
your life can fulfill.

Snow and an owl

Only through not knowing or forgetting the name
of an object can one begin to understand the nature of
the object. For if one knows its name then this
contrivance interferes with the understanding of its
true nature, so the first step in knowing the true nature
of any existence is to eliminate its name from the
contemplation.
The second step is to eliminate the idea of its
separation from any other existence. The first step is
to eliminate nameness then to eliminate separateness.
So when I say I want snow and an owl, it’s redundant
because it’s the same thing. The snow is the owl and the
owl is the snow. They are parts of the same existence.
To name the existence we call an owl by calling
it an owl, we lose closer understanding of it by placing
this name between us and its existence. The name is a
contrivance that blocks our closeness. Language is one of
the greatest hindrances to true understanding.
The greatest insights are those contemplated
without words of the ideas in mind. Our greatest
thoughts like our greatest feelings are beyond words.
Do not delude yourself into believing that to name
something is a step closer toward knowing about it; it is
in fact a step further away from knowing its true nature.
For a name is by definition a human contrivance
and, as such, has nothing any more to do with the
object in question than does the human system which
percieved it. Contrivances produce subjectivity which
leads us only to a mirror of ourselves instead of the
freedom of objective outward vision. The only way to
come as close as possible to understanding the true
nature of something is to separate all our men-made
contrivances in the machinery of perception.
Lose the word, gain the meaning, lose its name,
gain its nature. So the first step to understanding would
be to forget all words and to forget that you forgot.
Words presuppose separations of the existences and
presuppose an endless set of non-existences between
them.
To have separate objects, we would need them to
be floating in a sea of void. But we know there is no
vacuum of sea of non-existence; no air, no molecules,
hence there are no separate existences.
To begin true understanding, we must eliminate
artificial human distinctions; language and separation. We
must attempt to eliminate artificial human distinctions.
We must eliminate our ability to make distinctions
because inherent in even the idea of distinction is the
idea of the separateness of existence; the idea of this one
and that one. We must believe that the entire concept
of distinction is a human delusion; an immature crutch
that we can transcend the necessity and craving for.

the tortoise and the Camel

Once upon a little while ago, a camel happened to
stumble upon a tortoise out of breath.
And the Camel asked him, “Why are you
completely out of breath?”
And the tortoise replied between pants, “Because
I’m recovering from having just beaten the hare,
everyone has heard of the famous race between the
tortoise and the hare!”
And the camel said, “But, my God man, that
was described by Aesop over a thousand years ago and
you’re just now catching your breath?”
And the tortoise snapped, “Well, what do you
expect, I’m a tortoise, I’m not supposed to be racing
anything much less a hare.”
“Well, just so,” said the camel, “But it has been a
thousand years since the race, you know and you’re just
now catching your breath?”
“Yes, but it was worth it,” returned the tortoise,
“I won, I’m so famous, everyone has heard of my
success.”
“And what of the hare?” asked the camel raising
one eyebrow.
“Oh, he died, nine hundred and nine six years ago,

about four years after the race,” answered the tortoise.
“And what did he do after the race?” the camel
asked.
“Oh, they say he happily went back to his family
and being such a harebrain he forgot all about his
defeat”.
“Well just so,” said the camel. “He got over the
loss right away and here you are a thousand years later
still recovering from the victory. It seems to me that
sometimes a victory can be more costly than a defeat.”
“Yes, but I’m still alive and everyone knows that I
won,” said the tortoise.
“Yes, but you’ve spent your whole life doing
nothing but trying to catch your breath. You should
have let the hare do what he is best at and you should
have done what you are best at”.
“Which would have been what?” asked the
tortoise, frowning.
“For the hare, to run the fastest and for you to
grow the oldest and enjoy all those years.”
“You might have a point there,” replied the
tortoise “and just what are you the best at?”
“Being wise,” answered the camel.
“Being wise?” mocked the tortoise, “Who ever
heard of a wise old camel? And what allows you to be
so wise anyway?”
“Because I have more time to think.” Replied the
camel.
“More time than what?” asked the tortoise.
“More time than others.”

“Why?”
“Why? Well because while others are drinking I’m
thinking,” replied the camel.
“That’s crazy,” replied the tortoise, “It doesn’t
make any sense.”
“Yes but it rhymes, doesn’t it? And think of all the
time one spends in their life drinking. Well, during all
that combined time I’m thinking. It’s the same reason
why owls are so wise,” continued the camel.
“What?” asked the tortoise.
“Yes, while we are sleeping, they are thinking. They
sleep all day so they’re never bothered by anyone and at
night all they do is sit and think and eat mice. They have
all that time for solitude and contemplation.”
“You’re crazy,” said the tortoise.
“Well, maybe,” said the camel, “but at least I’m
not still out of breath nine hundred and ninety five
years later.”
“Point taken,” said the tortoise.
“Come,” said the camel, “do you need a ride
somewhere?”
“Well yes,” said the tortoise.
“Where to?” said the camel.
“I have to go back to holding up the Earth on a
needle. You see, it’s been falling for a thousand years
since I dropped it to go race the hare.”
“Oh,” said the camel, “now I understand what’s
been happening to the world.”
“Come on then. But, but wait a minute.”
questioned the camel, “I thought it was a turtle that

held up the Earth, not a tortoise?”
“How could it be a turtle?” replied the tortoise.
“Turtles live in water and there is no water in space.
What’s wrong with you?”
“Well, just so,” said the camel.

the Fourth King

The three Kings; Melchior, Balthazar and Gaspar
entreated a fourth king to join them on their journey to
welcome the new light from heaven on earth.
But the fourth king said he had no time for such
things and that he had to attend to business instead.
And, do you know the name of that fourth king?
Exactly!

the Greatest Show on earth

(november 2008)

It was everything we were afraid would happen
and so, of course, it did. Because what we fear the most
we avoid the most and through the neglect it catches us
unawares.
We chose to desire and acquire all those aspects
of the world that were only obtainable through the
utmost risk. And because it was so risky we felt the
reward had an equivalent value. We lived in an epic in
which our defined successes were so difficult to achieve
that we eventually or artificially removed the negative
ramifications of failure altogether. For awhile.
And the worst of all was when we ended up
believing our own personal pleasure propaganda; our
own personal lies, as a society and even more deadly
as individuals. Success led to excess. And excess led to
excess. We had so much fun but so little happiness. To
be content with contentment was for losers.
We believed in a new law; The Law of Assimilation.
If we lived a lifestyle of what we felt we should desire,
then through this assimilation would come an income
equal to it.
Endless sums were spent on learning how to
tastefully spend endless sums. We bought things we

really didn’t want, with money we really didn’t have,
to impress people we really didn’t like. And when we
handed the sales clerk our credit card, you couldn’t
really tell if we did it with a smile or a grimace. Maybe
both.
And all of a sudden, as if ashamed of our past, we
built our lifestyles to be as different as they could be
from what we had grown up as. Consequently we had to
make it all up along the way. And eventually the entire
circus tent of the Big Top collapsed as we needed to
build it large enough to house all the people we wanted
to come and clap for us.
It only took us about two thousand years to get
right back to the fall of Rome. Excuse me, but last one
leaving the Coliseum, would you please leave the door
open so those poor lions can get out?

Wall Clock

Now I’ve always felt that a wall clock that makes
a noise is more silent than one that makes no sound at
all. This may sound strange, but please, wait, allow me
to explain.
A pendulum clock with that steady tic–tock, well
it focuses you on its sound. And the very fact that you
can hear this tic-tock pulls out the poignancy of the
surrounding silence. It focuses you to that silence.
And I think I want a wall clock in a kitchen in a
house with no people or any signs of civilization. No
modern kitchen this, but an Andy Weyth type affair:
timeless, empty, sunlight pouring in on a rough wooden
table, fireplace blackened, unlit.
And I’ll sit and I’ll listen to the wall clock there.
And each tic of the clock will be in rhythm with the
finite beating of my heart.

Where did that Boy Get off to anyway?

A.H. Milne, the author of Winnie the Pooh and
The House at Pooh Corner wrote a beautiful little book
of poems for children called Now We are Six.
Well, how about a sequel called Now we are Forty?
And where is Christopher Robin now that he is all
grown up? Where did that boy get off to anyway? What
do you think? It’s a good one. Or is too much to hear?
Where is he?
Did he join The Blues and Royals, is he an MP
or is he dead in the Falklands or a MD of a bank in the
City?
No, I’ll tell you where he is. He is you and he is
me and he is all of us of that world. He is a little piece of
that world that held out for what we fought for.
And in whatever trench, in whatever battlefield
you find yourself in the night, alone, you can always
go back to Pooh Corner for strength. And that’s what
makes us who we are.

II

Dramatic Writing


the Snows of aconcagua

The persons of the play:

Jack Worthington – American ex-patriot, now living on
his familie´s cattle ranch in La Pampa, Argentina.
Susan Fischer – Jack’s very long standing girlfriend; lives
and works in New York City, now visiting Jack.
Gonzalo – Jack’s Argentine property manager.
Maria – Gonzalo’s girlfriend.
Luis – local of nearby pueblo.
Dr. Perez – a local witch “Doctor”.
The action of the play is completed within twenty four
hours.

The scenes of the play:

All the acts take place in front of or in a large safari
type tent on a hunting reserve in a campo in the province
of Pampa, Argentina.

First act

Hot sunny afternoon in front of safari tent. Jack
propped up on two chairs in front of tent. His right foot is
heavily bandaged.
Susan sits by his side.

Voice over of Jack: “On the top of Aconcagua, the dead
and frozen carcass of a peludo was found. No one knew
how the peludo got there. An expert from Buenos Aires
was sent to examine the carcass, but before he could
reach the summit, the carcass had been stolen and sold
to a tourist from Sao Paulo. This is a diary of my safari
trip in Argentina. I now lie injured in my tent.
Three days ago I accidentally stepped upon the
sharp and broken end of an old mate straw. I fear my
foot has now become quiet infected since most likely
at least twenty people used that straw without ever
cleaning it.
Luckily however, I have come on this safari with
my girlfriend who will be able to care of me and right
now I will ask her to go and shoot a deer as we need
meat tonight for supper and I’m too injured to hunt
myself. So here goes”.

Jack: Honey, Honey come here. Honey, Honey!
Susan: Yes, dear. Are you feeling better? I’m so worried
about you. Is the foot better? We’ve just got to get
you to a doctor.

Jack: Yes, yes. Get me a drink and get my rifle; we need
meat for tomorrow.
Susan: Yes. I’ll go hunting and get another deer for us.
Jack: And my drink, call Gonzalo.
(Jack yelling) Gonzalo, Gonzalo! Where the hell is he?
Susan: It’s only 4 PM, you know he is still taking his
siesta.
Jack: Jesus Christ he went to sleep at noon!
Susan: Yes dear, but with this heat and all that milanesa
he had for lunch, he’ll be sleeping very hard. You’ll
never wake him, even with all that yelling.
Jack: Well then will you please get me a drink and go get
my rifle from the truck?
Susan: I can’t.
Jack: Why?
Susan: Gonzalo’s girlfriend took the truck. She said she
needed it to go to town for mate.
Jack: What! Gonzalo’s girlfriend has never driven a car,
much less a truck in her life. She has no license. And
furthermore, that rifle in the truck is the antique one
you bought in London for me. If that thing is gone,
I’ll…
Susan: Honey, don’t worry about anything, Gonzalo
will wake up in about a half an hour and he’ll have his
mate and he’ll be here an hour later just in time for
when she gets back with the truck.

(Two hours later)
Gonzalo: Buenas tardes ¿como estás?
Jack: Bien, bien

Gonzalo: Good, good, I am happy. And your leg?
Jack: It’s fine, fine I need…
Gonzalo: Good, good, I am happy. And your girlfriend,
is she fine?
Jack: Yes, yes she is fine, I need…
Gonzalo: I am happy, que calor, hace mucho calor. Jack:
Yes, yes, it’s hot, I need a drink and my rifle to…
Gonzalo: No, no that’s very bad for you to drink with
your hurt foot and you shouldn’t go hunting.
Jack: Well, just get me a goddam coke then, and my rifle
to give to my girlfriend so she can shoot a deer for
meat.
Gonzalo: No, no, your girlfriend should not hunt, it’s
too hot for her, it’s too dangerous for her to go and
hunt deer.
Jack: What are you talking about? Are you insane? She’s
hunted lion and leopard in Africa all of her life. She
just needs to hunt a goddam deer. Now please get me
a cold Coke and my rifle.
Gonzalo: We don’t have any Coke.
Jack: What? That’s impossible! We just bought five six
packs two days ago.
Gonzalo: Yes, but the two other gauchos have been very
hot and thirsty. It’s very hot where we take our siesta
and that’s why I wanted you to buy us that portable
air conditioning unit.
Jack: An air conditioning unit! We’re sleeping in tents.
We’re on a goddam safari Gonzalo.
Gonzalo: That’s why I wanted to buy those portable
AC units. And then we could buy a generator and we

could be cool at night. And the men would be happy.
And since we would have the generator anyway, we
could buy one of those big screen TVs and the men
tonight could watch TV. It’s a very important match.
It’s Argentina versus Brazil. This way the men would
be happy.
Jack: What! AC, football! Oh my God it’s a safari. If
there’s no coke then give me my goddam rifle.
Gonzalo: Do you want a coke? Do you want me to get
you some Coke? Ok, let me call my girlfriend right
now on the cell phone. I’m sure she’s almost already
here but I’m sure she’ll be willing to turn right
a r o u n d and drive back to town.
Jack: No, no I just…
Gonzalo: Ok, I’ll call right now. Oh, oh, I forgot I’m
out of minutes, can I use your cell to call her?
Jack: Yes, yes, fine, here is my cell, just call her and tell
her to come back as fast as… no, no not as fast…
no, no she doesn’t even know how to drive much
less have a driver’s license. Call her, tell her to drive
right back here slowly, not to go anywhere else. She’s
got to get back before night to bring the rifle so my
girlfriend can go hunting before it gets dark.
Gonzalo: OK, I’ll tell her to come back right now, and
not to stop anywhere at all, except to pick up the
facturas.
Jack: What? Stop for facturas? No, no not to stop for
nothing, just for her to come right back right now.
Gonzalo: But she has to stop for the facturas.
Jack: For God sake why?
Gonzalo: Because the men need something to eat after

their siesta and it will make them happy.
Jack: I don’t give a damn if they are happy or not. And
besides, somebody came to sell us facturas this
morning and we bought a shit load.
Gonzalo: Yes, but that was this morning. Those facturas
are not fresh now, so we threw them out at lunch.
Jack: I’m going to go crazy. I’m….
Gonzalo: Oh look, here’s my girlfriend now!
Maria: Buenas tardes, ¡cómo estás?
Gonzalo: Bien, bien y vos.
Maria: Muy bien
Gonzalo: I am happy.
Maria: I got the mate and the facturas. Tell one of the
gauchos to go and get them out of the truck for me.
(Maria Turning towards Jack)
Buenas tardes ¿cómo está?
Jack: Fine, fine
Maria: I am happy. I had a tiny problem with the truck
(laughing)
Jack: Oh God, what, you had an accident?
Maria: No, for good luck, no.
Jack: Then, what?
Maria: I had to stop at one of the police checks and he
said I didn’t have my lights on so I got a ticket.
Jack: What? Why didn’t you have your lights on?
Maria: Because I don’t know ho to turn them on.
Jack: Of course not, why would you? You don’t even
know how to drive, you don’t even have a license.
Maria: Oh yes and that’s the other ticket I got, for driving

without a license and for not having an insurance
card and for not having a title for the truck.
Jack: What, what… I know you don’t have a license but
you had the title and the insurance card, it’s in the
glove compartment. Everyone keeps that stuff in the
glove compartment.
Maria: Oh, I didn’t know, you see I don’t drive, I don’t
know these things.
Jack: So how much are they going to fine you?
Maria: Nothing, that’s the good luck.
Jack: Oh thank God!
Maria: But they said they had to fine you because it’s
your truck and I’m your employee.
Jack: What, you’ve got to be kidding? You took the
truck this morning without even asking me.
Maria: Gonzalo said it was OK, because the men needed
their mate and their facturas.
Jack: Gonzalo told you and furthermore, you’re not
even my employee!
Maria: I know, but Gonzalo is and I’m his girlfriend
so the police told me it was OK to say I’m your
employee.
Jack: Oh God, I’m going insane. Anyway, I can’t worry
about this right now. Please just please bring me my
rifle, it’s going to be dark soon and my girlfriend
needs to hunt for meat for tomorrow.
Maria: What rifle?
Jack: What rifle? The rifle that is on the rifle rack on the
back window of the truck. What other rifle is in the
truck?

Maria: There isn’t any rifle or any rack in the truck.
Jack (yelling): Gonzalo, GONZALO…
Gonzalo: What’s wrong? What’s wrong? Is your foot
worse, oh my God!
Jack: No, no, no my foot is not worse.
Gonzalo: Oh, good, I am happy. Here, would you like
a factura?
Jack: No, no! Oh my God, for the hundredth time, I
just want my rifle so Susan before it gets too dark
can go and hunt some meat for tonight. I just want
the rifle.
Gonzalo: What rifle? You never brought any rifles on
this trip. There’s no rifle here.
Jack: Are you insane? This is a safari. A hunting trip.
This is what one does on a hunting trip, you go, you
hunt, you take rifles. You shoot things. It’s a safari.
We’re on a damn safari! Now where is my rifle?
Gonzalo: I don’t know what you are talking about.
Jack: My rifle, my gun. The same thing I’ve had for
the entire week we’ve been here. The same weapon,
rifle, gun, the same one that for this whole week my
girlfriend and I have used to go out every day and
have shot deer or hare, we’ve done this every day.
We’ve brought the kill back every day, And you guys
have made asado every day, remember?
How many days now?
Susan: Eight days.
Jack: How many deer?
Susan: Five.
Jack: Well, have you been eating asado every night?

Gonzalo: Yes
Jack: Well then how do you think I killed all these deer,
with my bare hands?
Gonzalo: Oh, is that what that dark meat was? We
thought it was bad, so we’ve been throwing it out,
we’ve been throwing it away every night to the dogs.
So every day this week, we’ve been having to buy
meat for us at the store. Look, see, look it’s true. I’m
not lying, here is the bill for you right here. And,
Oh yes, the store says he won’t give us any more
meat until you pay for all this first. We will have to
go tomorrow morning and pay because the men have
no meat for tomorrow and they won’t be happy if
there is no meat for lunch.
Jack: Look, Gonzalo, I don’t give a good goddam if
the men have meat for lunch or not. I want to know
where my antique rifle that I brought on this trip,
that I have been using every day for a week, that is
always sitting on the gun rack in the goddam truck?
Gonzalo: You’ve never had a rifle here and there is no
gun rack and that proves that you never had a rifle
here because there is no gun rack to put it on.
Jack: Are you insane or am I insane or…
Susan: Honey, if you’ve lost that antique rifle, Honey,
that was my first present I ever got you and in London
when I flew back alone from Africa when you’d
promised we would go together on that vacation,
Honey, if you’ve lost that rifle I’m just going to…
Jack: Me, if I’ve lost it? It’s totally obvious someone has
stolen it. It’s as clear as…
Susan: Well you should have taken better care, you

should have….
Jack: Better care? I locked it in the goddam gun rack
in the truck which was also locked before it was
borrowed today for the goddam…
Gonzalo: Oh look, look! A friend of mine is coming,
he called me this morning wanting to know if you
needed anything. And I said, well yes, here you are
on a safari and you didn’t even bring any rifles. I
saw that too, see, I’m looking after you. I saw you
didn’t have any rifles here on the safari, I saw you’d
forgotten and you see that’s why you need me to
help keep you straight. But I just didn’t say anything
about your not having remembered to bring any
guns, I didn’t want to say anything out of disrespect,
since we were here and it was too late to go back, and
now with your foot and all.
But what luck, this great guy called this morning and
asked if we needed anything and so I said yes maybe
a rifle and what did you know he had one and now he
is here and he’s brought it. Maybe you want to look
at it. Now here is the deal, if it’s nice and you like
it, don’t say anything about it, see. The price, don’t
even ask about the price. First act as if you don’t like
the gun, like it’s no good, see, and like you are not
interested at all. Then, I’ll take him aside and talk to
him about the price. If he sees you are interested,
he’s going to say oh here’s this rich American, then,
he’ll ask for some totally high crazy price.
Jack: I don’t want to buy any rifle, I don’t want to buy
any gun, I don’t wanna buy any damn anything, I
just want my goddam rifle that….
(Enters Luis, a local, with rifle in a case)

Luis: Buenas tardes, señor, ¿cómo le va?
Jack: Fine, fine but I’m not interested…
Luis: I am happy.
Jack: No, I’m saying I am not interested in buying
any…
Luis: Just let me show you this fine rifle. Let me take it
out of this bag. This is a beauty. This is a rifle that my
grandfather who owned one of the largest estancias
in Spain had and gave to me when I was young and
now since I don’t hunt anymore, so I would like you
to…
Jack: Wait a minute, wait, let me see that, let me see that
rifle, what in the hell, oh my God, this is my rifle,
this is my goddam antique rifle! This is insane! Now
where did you get this?
Luis: No, no, señor, that is impossible because I have
had it since I was a boy, and now I’m sixty years old.
Jack: Impossible!
Luis: Thank you, but I truly am sixty years old, but
everyone else also tells me I look younger than that.
Jack: No, no, I don’t give a shit how old you look,
I’m telling you that it’s impossible that this rifle is
yours.
It’s mine, look for Christ sake, it has an engraving
right here that my girlfriend had put on it. To J. F.
W.. love from S.E. F., see, and the date September 7,
2003.
Luis: No, no this is the manufacture and the date it was
made.
Jack: These are my initials look, and this is the date of
my birthday.

Luis: But this is impossible, you are older than seven
years old.
Jack: Oh my God I’m gonna go crazy, look, these are
my initials. This isn’t the date it was made or when
I was born, it’s, OK, OK I’ll play it your way, this is
the date it was made seven years ago, ok. But then I
though you told me you got that from grandfather
when you were a boy.
Luis: OK, oh well then, I see now, it was my mistake. I
left that other rifle at home, this must be the newer
one I have. Yes, yes, I remember now and this is
the newer one and the good news is that it’s less
expensive to buy. You can have this one for…
Jack: Give me the goddam rifle! Give me my rifle right
now or I’m gonna call the police. Gonzalo give me
my cell, I’m calling the police.
Gonzalo: No, you can’t do that.
Jack: Why, for Christ sake, the rifle has my initials on it.
It’s clearly my rifle.
Gonzalo: No, you can’t call the police.
Jack: Why?
Gonzalo: Because I used up all your cell minutes when
I was calling my girlfriend for her to buy you your
Coke.
(Jack passes out either from exhaustion or from
insanity or from broken mate spoon trauma induced
septicemia).

Second act

Two hours later, Jack, lying on a cot, now inside his
tent. Susan is pacing. Enter Gonzalo.

Susan: Wake up, wake up, dear, help is on the way,
you’re going to be alright.
Jack: No, I’m going to die out here. I know it, I feel it.
Oh, I’ve never appreciated you; it was always the
others, thinking about the others. Now I understand
how much I always loved you.
Susan: I love you so much.
Jack: Oh, it’s too late.
Susan: No, hold on my dear, help is on its way. We have
a doctor.
Jack: Really, finally a doctor? It’s a miracle a doctor could
come this quickly.
Susan: Yes, yes, hold on my dear.
Gonzalo: Señorita, he is here.
Susan: Oh thank God and just in time too. He’s not
looking so good and the fever is so high; I just can’t
bring it down.
Gonzalo: Señorita, please come outside for a minute, I
have to talk to you first.
Susan: Oh, if it’s about the doctor’s pay, I’ll pay whatever,
anything. That’s the love of my life in there. He is
my whole life; don´t you understand?
Gonzalo: No, it’s not about the money, he says the

money is not important, it’s only that…
Susan: What, what then?
Gonzalo: Well, you see, he’s really not like a doctor like
you have I mean…
Susan: What, then what is he?
Gonzalo: Well, I guess he is not a doctor like you have
what you guys would call sort of like a witch
doctor.
Susan: Oh my God, what do you mean, he’s not a
medical doctor? My God, he needs antibiotics, he’s
burning up with fever! Don’t you see the infection
has spread from his foot all the way up into his whole
body? And you send me a witch doctor. My God,
what good is he? What does he have to save him?
Gonzalo: Well that’s just it, he has what’s perfect for
what hurt him.
Witch doctor: Let me in to see him, let me see him.
Susan: Oh God, who are you? Oh, don’t hurt him, Oh,
this is insane.
(Witch doctor enters tent and looks at Jack)
Witch doctor: I have special powers, I can save him. I
have medicine.
Susan: Then you do have antibiotics, oh thank God sir!
Oh bless you.
Witch Doctor: No, no antibiotics.
Susan: Then what, what?
Witch Doctor: What tries to destroy us, will also cure us.
I have, I would give him, this I will save him with.
Susan: What, what?
Witch Doctor: This is all he needs.

(Witch doctor pulls out a prepared steaming mate
bowl and puts it to the sick man’s lips.
Susan faints and collapses on limp lifeless body of
Jack who has also collapsed after having seen the potential
medicine)
(Last scene – In the morning Jack and Susan in bed
together. Susan still lying on top of Jack. Susan looks at
Jack’s face and tries to arouse him).
Susan: Oh my God, he’s gone, he’s gone!
(Jack wakes up, shakes head, yawns. Susan cries,
laughs, feels his forehead.)
Susan: Oh, it’s a miracle, the fever is gone! Oh you’ve
come back, you’ve come back to me.
(Jack hugs Susan)
Jack: Yes, yes, I guess, well, I feel, I feel OK. Oh, it’s
thanks to you my dear. Last night when I though I
was dying, all those things I said to you, I remember
them all and I meant them all, and I mean them all
now. Oh my love, never leave me. Let’s get married
and be together forever.
Susan: Oh yes my love, I love you so much.
(They then embrace in silence for a few minutes.
Jack begins to squint and look around).
Jack: There’re certain things last night I don’t remember
about. But I distinctively remember we were under a
tent, we had a tent over me, right over this bed, and
there was a tent over us.
Susan: We must have had a storm last night and it must
have blown the tent away and we were holding each
other, you know, in each others’ arms so tight and so
we didn’t notice and…

Jack: But the whole tent blew away? Only the tent?
But these clothes on the chairs and stuff, they are all
here and not wet. Wait a minute, Gonzalo, Gonzalo,
GONZALO…
Gonzalo: Buen día, cómo le va?
Jack: Much better.
Gonzalo: I am happy. Gracias a Dios. We thought you
were going to die and your girlfriend would die too
of sadness, and we wouldn’t know…
Jack: Yes, yes, but I have one small question.
Gonzalo: Two
Jack: No, just one. Where’s my tent?
Gonzalo: What tent?
Jack: My tent, the tent that we had here over us, here,
that we were sleeping under, the tent that has been
here for a week, that goddam tent!
Gonzalo: No, you’ve never had a tent. This is another
thing I wanted to suggest. I thought it would be a
great idea to buy…
Jack: I’m going to kill him! I’m going to…
Susan: Have some mate Dear.

THE END



Iv

Lyrics


Whatever You Love Let It Save You

Find your passion,
Take it in,
Accept it.

Cherish it, Sacrifice
for it, Never
abandon it, It is
your salvation.

It will always protect you,
It will lead you to your destiny,
It will allow you to become who you are.

the Four reasons

Winter
Wood smokes,
Flames rise,
Owls hoot,
Dogs shiver.

Hope holds,
Snow flies,
Spring comes hither.

Spring
Yes, it’s here now,
Come and see,
Crocuses under the snow!

Summer
And all my life looking,
Back at those,
Robin under the tree twilights.

Fall
All is golden,
Before all is gray.

And out of hope,
We’ll wait one more month,
To put the boats away.

Leaving home

A butterfly on a thistle,
This morning,
Persuaded me to stay.
Not for a lifetime,
But just for
One more day.

the Beautiful things

The beautiful things,
Make a stillness,
That comes suddenly.

They make a clarity,
And a softness,
That comes suddenly.

The beautiful things,
Are a reminder,
Of what can be,
In your life,
If you want it.

tell Me Why again?

I live the whole day for that light,
That sunlight that comes,
In the late afternoon,
I wait for it,
With the voluptuousness of certainty.

And sometimes the sun,
Has a way of wedging himself,
In between the long strip of dark clouds,
And the horizon.

And for five minutes a day,
I know why I live this far south.

Don’t

Don’t do,
What you don’t
Want to do,
Seems like such obvious advice.

But how many times
Do we build up courage,
To walk in the opposite direction
Of our own heart’s desires.

In accordance with the Law

Shadows shall be taxed,
According to intensity,
And In Accordance with the Law.

Trees shall be toppled,
According to majesty,

Dreams shall be tamed,
According to magnitude,

Children shall be killed,
According to loveliness,

And In Accordance with ….

objects in Winter

The blackest crow,
Against the whitest snow,
I chanced to see,
One winter’s morning majesty.

That bird, soft – hopping on the ground,
Made not a single solitary sound.
But for that, black and white,
I would not have witnessed such a site.

And so, what I witnessed,
Could it be?
A perfect contrast,
Or a perfect singularity?

our Job

God made heaven and earth.
He left it up to us,
To make hell.

one Last Power

I’m watering the flowers, he said, But
we’re selling the place! she said. I’ve
got to water the flowers, he said. I’ve
got to water each flower!

I’ve lived on this place for all
Eighty five years of my life.
Please allow me this one last
Power.

Boat Gunnel Summer

To Monhegan we’ll flee,
Just you and me,
In the smallest boat we can find.

And when we’ve shoved offshore,
Our spirits will soar,
As we’ve left the whole world behind.

Chal

There was a man looking
Out to sea
Under a beach umbrella.
And this man
Was of both worlds,
Old and new,
But he never knew,
How much he meant to me.

Dinner Invitations
can Be Informal too

The roar of the fire was so loud that,
I couldn’t hear my own fear,
And the heat was so hot that,
I couldn’t stay away.

Hey, I like to be where the action is.
One chance to grab all my life,
Go back in, go back in and stay.
Until,
You get it all out of the dragon’s mouth.

Hey you cowards,
Come on in and have one last drink.
Slap a grizzly in the face,
For manhood,
That’s the way.

ancient Steppe Song of asia

Let the horses,
Run free,
Let them run free,
In the wind.

Heroes do not,
Eat lunch with girls.

an uninterrupted view

Now when I look up
through the roof,
I have an uninterrupted view.

And now when I look up,
I concentrate on the spaces
Between the stars.

That’s where my attention lies
There’s no stopping that place,
That direction,
Emptiness will let my journey fly.

a viking’s tomorrow

I’m cold in my tent now,
But tomorrow
I will warm my hands
In your fresh blood.

And tomorrow,
I will stop – start my horse
In front of a line
Of a thousand of my friends
Behind me, like an iron wall,
All the way up to your door.

And tomorrow,
My feet will be warm
Thanks to your fire.
And my stomach will be warm
Thanks to your food.
And my mouth, warm,
Thanks to your wife.

Yes, Olf Haroldsson
You landed your boats
On my shore one hundred years ago;
Uninvited.

Tomorrow,
please welcome mine to yours.

May I Interrupt You?

Excuse me,
But may I interrupt you?

How many days have you lived?
No, really,
How many have you lived?
Not prepared to live,
But how many have you really lived.

You know, those hairs standing up on the back of
your neck days,
Those butterflies in your stomach nights.
I don’t know, the feeling you had on the night of
the greatest date of your life.

Or maybe some special day,
When your kid did something just like you.
Or when you took a total ass on the line risk and
won.
Remember those?
What would it take to have many of these?
Well, first you would have to get rid
Of all the connotations and the trappings;
(You know what trappings I mean).

You’d have to go and insult your boss, get fired,
Or tell all your clients what you really think of
them and fire them.
Sell your home for nothing,
Take nothing with you.

And with your eyes closed,
In front of a map,
Point to your new country,
Move there, eat bad food, don’t shave.
Feel for the first time in a long time, breathe,
live.

Oh no,
This is just too crazy.
Oh look now,
I’ve made you late for work.
Well, we’ll talk later and besides there is always
time
and…
Oops, Chest Pain!

Modes of transportation

Peasants and sages walk,
Knights ride,
Kings and the dead are carried.

on Your own

I saw a rabbit,
On the polo field this morning,
I needed to tell him something,
But he ran away.

“You’re on your own,
This season,
With the hunters,
You see,
I’m moving away.”

Just one

I don’t want to walk on a floor,
I want to walk on the ground.

I don’t want to look up at a ceiling,
I want to look up at the sky.

There are many floors,
There are many ceilings.

There is just one ground,
There is just one sky.

It’s Long overdue

The debt of pain that’s due,
Is long overdue,
For those who’ve suffered it.
And there’s no one else,
To pay that debt.

So when will you pay it?
Until you have,
Each day, you know, you’re just waiting.
For until the thing is done,
It’s not through.
Instead

Show me a representation of beauty,
That is more beautiful than the object that it
represents,
And I will stop wasting my time,
Under this tree,
But I shall cut it down for its wood,
Instead.

And show me a future
That is more certain
Than the present,
And I shall leave this forest,
And go back to the city
For its dreams
Instead.

I have and I have not

On lavender stalks, white butterflies are sleeping,
On wind tops, white falcons are swooping.

There is no fear now,
With no expectations.
I’m all and only in the present.

And I like the precision of the windless nights,
But there’s too much intensity,
from the motionless stars.
I have and I have not desire to be here.
her Canoe ride

A promise made,
Is a plan well laid,
For the future.

And now I have,
An appointment
With a certain little someone
To paddle a canoe
On a certain lake,
This weekend.
And I wouldn’t
Miss it for the world.
Because she is my world.

I’ve got a second chance
This time.
And it’s all about time.

Because the autumn leaves
Won’t wait just for me,
To fall off the trees.

And happy times
Won’t just wait,
For the Dow
To stabilize.

A promise made,
Is a plan well laid,
For the future.

And there’s a certain little girl,
Waiting on the shore,
For her canoe ride.
Because of the Danger

I was standing on a beach in south Argentina,
And behind the last waves to the shore,
I saw a clump of sea ducks swimming,
Against a hard wind,
They were swimming-in place.

Their position seemed so precarious to me.
And I wondered why they chose such a place,
And I wondered why they swam so hard,
Just to stay there.
Surely, further out to sea, or on land, a much
safer location.

And many times I’ve thought of those ducks,
And many times I’ve needed them to still be
there swimming.
I like that spot on the waves that they have,
And I like its precarious nature.
It’s a place between the sea and the land,
It’s safe there because of the danger.

apples at trees

My life consists of throwing apples at trees.
When I was a child,

Down at the shore,
In the field,
I’d throw apples at trees.
And if I hit the tree,
Then I knew my recent wish,
Would come true.

And when I was a child,
My hit would assure me of,
A new baseball glove.

Or when I was older,
My hit would assure me of,
the girl of my dreams.

All my life, I’ve thrown apples at trees,
And I’ve always hit them dead on.
But all those times
I never dared ask
For my real wish,
That was my miss.
new Whales and ancient Lions

Think about the whales swimming in the ocean,
At the time of Christ,
Seriously, just stop and think about those
particular whales.
Are they the old whales?

Or how about the whales swimming in the sea
Before mankind.
Are they the old whales?

Think of the whales swimming in the sea,
The morning Kennedy was shot.
Or the day you were born,
Or today, this morning,
Swimming in the sea,
An hour just before you woke up.
Are all these the new whales?

But I think there’s no way to take
A whale out of its existence.
They stay and swim with a spouting,
Blessing for the lucky
To catch their eternity of harmlessness.

Who’s the intruder of time now,
That you back it all out for the,
Short run survival?

Old whales

And new whales
And ancient lions.

It makes no sense
Except for us transients,
You and eye.
night Spa

Night’s silence cushion comforts.
Darkness is my healing balm,
From day’s decisions’ daggers.

tempos Fugit

Well, you’re not the little girl,
I saw just yesterday.
Don’t look now,
But you’re growing so fast.

Don’t look now,
But our baby’s walking.
Don’t look now,
But we’re all so proud.

Don’t look now,
But our baby’s riding (Macho),
Reaching out to hold mommy’s hand.

Don’t look now,
But our baby’s reading,
Grabbing every book she possibly can.

Don’t look now,
But our baby’s running,
After a dream, we said was too hard to stand.

Don’t look now,
But our baby’s flying,
Off to be what she already is.
the Beagle

Now the Beagle’s,
The place,
For a person like me,
With the wind and the sea and the snow.

And I’ll throw in my lot,
And sell all that I’ve got,
For there’s no further south,
I can go.

ushuaia

There’s a darkness here,
That has nothing to do with light.
And there’s a power here,
That has nothing to do with might.

I’m frightened here,
And I like it.
the Love of Green

We’re hard wired,
To love and migrate to green places.
All those dead end pre-sapiens species
That were oblivious to
The love of green,
Well I think their humanoid fossils
Can be found somewhere
Down in the province of Santa Cruz.

the everlasting

And now all I have of my grandfather,
Are his tools,
Of which,
I hide under my bed,
So the grooms won’t steal them instead.

And now all you have,
Of my family,
Are cinders and shreds,
Oh yes, one other thing,
Their DNA,
Nuff, said.
us,s

We made our way Into the New
World, Unannounced and
unasked for,
Without introductions or invitations,
Embossed or engraved,
But for their grave instead.

We sailed in.
Penguins were pulverized,
And seals were subdued,
With the appropriate blunt instruments.
Whales were extracted from the seas,
With delicate hooks,
Clearing the waves,
For more us,s to come.

And alas we did come,
And more and more and more,
In galore, and the glass,
Was over full,
With us,s.
Always more to come,
What a sigh for sore worlds.

Waiting for Madison

Don’t talk to me of coincidences
After this.
Don’t talk about mechanical things.
You give me a sign
And I’ll wait for you here,
Again and again
With the grass blowing or still.
to a Meadow Mouse

Little mouse, don’t run away,
Don’t you know we’re the same today.
Looking for shelter,
Looking for warmth.

I’d like to take your bark house for my fire,
But I won’t,
Because then I’d be the same as they were.

Now we are together in fear,
You by my flashlight,
And I by the light of tomorrow’s day.

But at least this night,
We have the darkness to keep us safe.
And besides what more can mice like us,
Ask for anyway.

the Sharpness

Every decision
Is a dagger,
It’s a double edge sword.
It can cut you both ways.

But that’s what happens
When you sharpen both sides,
With every eventuality
Honed to a tee.
the one thing You Can’t Fake

A hospital,
Is a portal,
Between life and death,
Going both ways,
From the unborn to the born,
And from the living,
To the basement.

It’s like a crazy time capsule,
Sending passengers,
To and fro,
To different dimensions.

And we, the doctors,
I don’t know,
What we are,
Conductors, pilots,
Maybe trying,
To slow the passage down,
Or ease it.
Make it less painful,
Certainly.

We can’t stop it,
Maybe re-direct it,
For a while.

Maybe just,
At best and at worst,
We’re spectators,
Of the whole transformation.

But either way,
It’s a privilege,
It’s an honor,
To be a part of it.
Help in some,
Way,
Anyway.
At least,
First doing no harm.

You know,
it’s the
real deal.
Birth, death,
There’s nothing bigger.
It’s the one thing,
In this world,
You can’t fake.

to those Who Know

Whom I’m talking to

Yellow is a color,
Only becoming,
In birds,
And ladies’ parasols.

You’re not an all Black Cat

Well you’re not the cat
That I loved and lost
But you’ll have to do.

I saved your life under a house
Years ago.
Now you saved mine,
Here’s to you.

rabbit Park

Behold a rabbit day is coming.
A rabbit day.
For me and for you.

And it can be that way,
For us,
If you like.

But for me certainly,
A rabbit day.
And so I will sit and wait,
For them here.

And all I ask,
Before the day is done,
Is to see a rabbit,
In the setting sun.

Why tortoises Make Perfect Pets

Firstly may I say,
They make not a single, solitary sound,
And for exercise needs,
Not so quick to run away,
When put upon the ground.

A diet for them,
Moderate and lean,
Their daily request; only a humble bean.

When hotel entrance smuggling time is near,
Father’s blazer pocket,
Do they never fear.

Furthermore, no adult supervision
Is needed when left with girls and boys,
There’s simply no history of,
Tortoises chewing up anybody’s toys.

Finally little fear of early demise,
Like a canary,
These tortoises, well, they’re centenary.

Though they won’t hunt to hounds,
That much is true,
Pound for pound, they make the perfect pet,
For me and you.

What If

What if it were so simple,
From what you have,
To what you want.
And what if it were so simple,
To become who you are.

I’m almost there with the mission.
And I’m on the other side
Of that cast iron fence looking,
At the bearskins.

Two generations is all I need of slack,
And I can sleep with the morning warmth
Of comfort to take me to the end.

the highlander’s Dream

Now who could have dreamt,
Such a wonderful thing,
A house burning down,
And a Highland Fling.

And now you are naked,
And now you are old,
Freedom’s been won,
Walk away from the fold.
Stillness

And the Master said,
“If you hold your hand
In stillness,

Eventually,
A butterfly,
Will land there”

And I said,
“Oh”.

the Deformity

I will suffer the cold for silence,
And I will forgo the prosperity for peace.
Because life is too short for the deformity.

And for what you do every second,
To wait for what you want to do every day.

Until it´s too late,
And all the what you wanted-to-dos,
Were traded for all the what-you-had-to-dos.
our time

We drew such a big whale,
That we got tired.
And we drew so many penguins,
That we couldn’t catch them all,
And some ran away.
And so did our time together,
And our chance to stay.

random exposures

I don’t have a house now thank God,
I live in a tent.
So now I can see that mouse,
That owl,
That bat,
That I never would have seen before.
It’s worth the exposure.

I live now,
I’m here, in the present,
With random exposures,
And enlightenments as my reward.

I perchance upon pictures of nature,
Only possible through the very randomness,
That is the outside world,
Outside the world constrained by our own
conformities.
Sleep’s Chance

I’ll slide down into
The stalk of sleep again, And
hope to see you there. And
we’ll do all those things, We
never did,
When I was too blind to care.

Stained Paper is Good

The old Parchisi board
Burned up today,
And I don’t know why.

The small Gothe statute
Got smashed today,
And I don’t know why.

I smell the sea air
Of my youth,
Caught under the ashes
Of this house.

And I will pull it out,
And take it back,
To it’s Southern Cousin,
Lest it be
Lonely and afraid.
reality

Wind details reality,
Sun devises,
Snow evens,
Rain hastens.

Sanctuary

Who needs an alligator
In their life?
O r who needs
An eighty kilometer wind
In their face?

Is there nothing left
Of moderation?
Or is an extreme,
My only sanctuary
Against all my mistakes?

O to be home again,
Wherever that got off to,
And O to be safe,
Whatever that means.

Get out of the boat,
And walk to the shore,
Any shore,
Before it’s too late.
Shut this Book

Shut this book, you’re dying,
No, seriously.
Shut this book right now, you’re dying.

Go do something, right now,
Outside.
Go outside right now. You’re
not listening to me, You’re
obviously not listening,
You’re still reading this damn thing.
Throw this book away and go outside right now.

Look up at the sky,
You have no top,
You have no lid, now.

But soon enough you will,
You’ll have a lid to your box.
And all the sands through your hourglass,
Will land
With its deep throated thud,
Upon the top of your box.

Whatever you love,
Let it save you.
And whom ever you love,
Let them pull you away,
From your wastes of time and traffic.

Shut this book, you’re dying,
No, seriously,
Shut this book right now,
And…
Somewhere else

The blind Indian
With moss for eyes
Who lived under the water,
Left.

When I came back,
To ask his advice.
He was gone.

The first time
He was speaking,
I couldn’t make out
His words.

There was no sound.
Just his mouth was
Opening and closing.
I couldn’t make it out.

Why I expected him to be there,
The same when I came back.
Well, I really didn’t.

But I looked for him anyway.
He like I
Had changed
To somewhere else.

the Most Important thing
in the World

And they asked the People,
What is the most important
Thing in the world?
And they answered;
A plastic bag.
Because it lasts;
Forever.

Whatever - Final Nov12

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Whatever - Final Nov12

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Dedication

Whatever You Love Let It Save You

tell Me Why again?

In accordance with the Law

Boat Gunnel Summer

May I Interrupt You?

her Canoe ride

Because of the Danger

When I was a child,

new Whales and ancient Lions

the Love of Green

the one thing You Can’t Fake

to those Who Know

Shut this Book

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