May 28, 1993: It was the start of the seven year long group poem that I later named "The Gumby Bible"

Thirty years ago today

            On Friday the cheque from George Brown College that I'd been expecting for the last three days still hadn't come. So I called them and found out it had been sent to the wrong address because only "22" had been visible in the address window. I went downtown to pick it up and cash it on my way to work. I posed at Central Technical School from 12:40 to 15:15 and after work, now that I had some money I decided to enjoy a bit of what I'd missed because of being broke on my birthday. I walked along Bloor and saw Wanda Porter at Futures. I had a drink with her and we chatted. I learned that she'd thought I was married, I guess because she'd seen me with my daughter and maybe her mother. I was thinking that maybe she liked me. She said she wanted me to do her astrological chart. I walked to Yonge Street and checked out a couple of sex magazine shops where I bought "Oriental Pussy" and "The Betty Pages". I went home and showered to get ready to go for dinner at Diana Dufretes, Jodie, and Ray's place. I got their charts together to give them and bought some beer on the way downtown. Yehuda was there too. I read Diana, Jodie and Ray their charts. After a big meal cooked by Ray we followed him to a bar. Later we went to Mudds Cabaret where I passed around my writing book, so about ten people contributed to a group poem: 

Children covet their parents' freedom and parents covet their children's, 

Freedom is creation and communication, and communing freely leads to procreation

Without creation, freedom is unattainable

You must freely create it to get the feeling of how cool it feels

I eat technology, I drink media! 

More is one less than infinity

and every moment a cross-section of eternity

a dense bluey form of interconnected infinity 

within the bowels and jaws of a child

In a world of impurity the child knows how to colour silently

Our jealousy destroys innocence

Arbitrary Arbus, are you crazy?

Choose your roose, goose, Sunyday

Arbitrary, quite contrary, how does your garden grow? 

Little lives coveting speckled rays of knowledge from the unreachable

straining for a growing place to come back to thine truth does bodily

the shape-shifting truth is always changing colour, frequency, texture

She was barred, bitched, you ate it

and she's gone, and I'm hungry, and I feel sick, and tired

and ripped, and gone, and wired to absence

Absolom of the papacy limited children of innocence

dag and stab the inno-soul circle of patronage

suck the smug and frug on 'til blood's spawn has flud

Warm, juicy mess, she loved it. 

            I went home from there.