And its giving me a bloody headache.

This is a shot in the dark. I’ve been trying to find a particular painter’s work. I don’t know the painter’s name. I don’t know the names of any of his work. BUT. He painted in Toronto, Canada, in the 1950s or 1960s. He painted several versions of paintings in the lanes behind Galt Avenue. I saw the paintings several decades ago. If perchance (and I always use that word sparingly) you know the painters name or the name of his paintings could you let me know. Its a thought that’s been banging around in my head for decades. And its giving me a bloody headache.

With her fingers in a hole

Alice In A Hole

Alice tied to the railroad tracks. Train coming. Will she be cut in two? Who thinks up these ideas.

I can still see the world falling down. All around. Buster Keaton. And how hard I cried. With levitation.

A piano wire. In his fingers. Around her neck. And pop goes the top. Of the champagne bottle. Everyone laughs. And tips the help. And I couldn’t help but wonder how you practiced something like that.

Moe was so smug. When he stuck his fingers. Into the eyes of Curly. Curly who ended up hanging. In his closet. A professional hit. Larry said. Curly wouldn’t do something like that.

The undead rising. Started by Jesus. All those zombies. Wandering around. So sure of the purpose in life. Looking for a Tea Party. In the Garden of Gethsamene.