poems of the month

perhaps (maybe)

the diogenes sequence

where to store furs

i am and am not:
      fragments of rumi

destiny and destination

the zen of no-enlightenment

already backwards

a light in ruins

separate amputations

the sexy jihad

awaiting the barbarians

the sexy jihad

the smell of possibilities

ultimate leaves

rejoice in the dog

post-millennium maggot

the book of nothing

confession from belgrade

dispatches from the war against the world

albanian poems

french poems in honour of jean genet

the hells going on

suicide for

fearful symmetry

book disease

foreground trouble

the transcendental hotel

cinema of the blind

lament of the earth mother

uranian poems

haikai by okami

haikai on the edge

black hole of your heart

jung's motel

the second coming (rebus)

gloss on rilke's ninth duino elegy

jewels and shit:
poems by rimbaud

villon's dialogue with his heart

vasko popa: a shepherd of wolves ?

the rub�iy�t of
omar khayy�m

genrikh sapgir:
an ironic mystic

the love of pierre de ronsard


the rich man and the leper


art, truth and bafflement





revolutionary maxims

nice men and
suicide of an alien

anti-fairy tales

the most terrible event in history




the three bears

three albanian tales



i am a sociopath

one not one

an occitanian baby-hatch

ancient violence
in the amazon

helen's tower

the ivory palace

helen's tower

extortion through e-bay

schopenhauer for muthafuckas

never a pygmy

against money

'original sin' followed by
crippled consciousness

a gay man's guide to soft-willy sex

the holosensual alternative

tiger wine

the death of poetry

the absinthe drinker

with mrs dalloway in ukraine

love  and  hell

running on emptiness

a holocaust near you


londons of the mind &
dealing death to the caspian


a muezzin from the tower of darkness

kegan and kagan

a holy dog and a
dog-headed saint

an albanian ikon

being or television

satan in the groin

womb of half-fogged mirrors

tourism and terrorism

the dog from sinope


this sorry scheme of things

the bektashi dervishes

combatting normality

fools for nothingness:
atheists & saints

death of a bestseller

vacuum of desire: a homo-erotic correspondence

a note on beards

translation and the oulipo

the visit




(Cailux, Queillutz, Cailutz)

May-Day, 2023

Gentle, not-remotely-cruel April Showers, which, in France, normally fall in March.


Dear Bearz,

Thank you for your thoughtful reply to my blog.

I have lotsa.gnus.


To-day has (so far) been another interesting one. Feeling extremely fine when I woke up, I then found that I was a bit tottery, so moved slowly and with care.

skip the preamble

After breakfast I went to the enormous vide-grenier at Septfonds. On the way there everything appeared double: double cars, double poles, double tractors, double speed-cameras – presumably as a result of the toxic substance mentioned below – but the road remained single.

Wofl had double vision for the first time. Wow! But then it resolved itself to single vision as I entered Septfonds, formerly one of the two local centres for the manufacture of straw hats.

Needless to say, I found a pretty euphorbia in a long planter. 3 euros. It is hardy. I also found a nice leather-covered pipe (rare now, bought only by collectors who must themselves be pretty rare) in very good condition – for my rare grass-smokes.

Euphorbia hypericifolia

Then I called to see Sylvia, who had been to the new and (she says) excellent dentist at Septfonds. So I'll go to her in September, rather than the excellent one in Montauban whom Phyllis recommended to me last year. Sylvia's partner Jérôme was watching a documentary with the sound turned down. Apparently, he chain-watches them when he's at home. With the sound turned down ? Maybe. Or maybe he turned it down when I appeared. He is a man of little conversation (to say the least). But he has provided Sylvia with a fine old house and garden. The red water-lily I gave her is in flower.

On the way out of Septfonds I gave a lift to Bouc. (half of Colin and Bouc, 'Belbet-on-the-ground' animal-sculpture welders). This is the first time I got to talk to him (after six years) and it was fine because I felt I knew him, so there was no stress making me say silly things. I told him about my condition, and my deafness (I forgot to put in my hearing-aids yet again) so I'm sure he'll pass on the info to Colin – who is due to visit in the next day or so to choose (for Caylus-Arts' first show of the year) three or four pictures from the fifty or so hanging on the walls and in a pile in the cellar.

When, a couple of weeks ago I went from very down to very up, I stopped taking my Escitalopram SSRI. This was only 2 days after my doctor talked about the terrible things that can happen if one stops an anti-depressant, worse than the hideous consequences of childhood masturbation. As you know, I have stopped before (other ones – Duloxetine/Cymbalta...I can't remember what I took before that), without any ill-effects. I've been a bit light-headed (perhaps because of the sudden arrival of summer, and the blossoming of everything at once, from cowslips and all the fruit trees to oleanders) – but now I get a couple of seconds advance notice and take quick appropriate action, so it's probably several months since I have fallen on my knees and blacked out with loud noises in my ears.

Because my deafness is getting worse I now have a little card which I can present to people. This means they don't talk to me, they just smile and are helpful. It has already proved useful. This is a picture of a similarly-designed badge I can also wear, but I prefer a card that I can produce when necessary.

On Saturday night I smoked a little grass and had a nice wank-with-video-enhancement… and so went cheerfully to bed. But couldn't sleep (unusual after grass). After nearly 3 hours I decided that I'd see if the Xylazine (also known by victims of the drug-culture as TRANQ) which I bought and received via FedEx from China was genuine, and not merely the hydroxypropyl-methyl-cellulose it was labelled as to deceive the Customs.

HMC is a very common food additive (E464) because it is an emulsifier and thickening agent, an alternative to gelatin; it is also used to treat dry eyes.

I licked my forefinger and dipped it lightly into the jar of crystals (which look like sugar and have no taste), licked my slightly white-speckled finger, and went back to bed, fairly sure that I had taken enough for it to be soporific.

My 82-year-old left hand with xylazine on forefinger

A fifth of a gram is fatal. But I had to spend $200 on the minimum order of 100 grams - enough to kill everyone at a large cocktail or garden-party...or by sprinkling a little in post-coronation drinkies next week. (Terrorist Horror on billionaire Charles III's first day as crowned King!) I could go to Toulouse and commit mass-murder at the so-appropriately-named Abattoirs art-gallery. What fun!

Probably I'll just bury it in the woods, or, grotesquely, beside As. I wouldn't like to poison the local sewage-plant.

It is also sold in kilogram packets. Mostly it is injected into horses, cattle and deer (maybe also gnus and baby rhinos) as an anæsthetic. I guess slow lorises require something much less strong: an aspirin, for example.

report on Xylazine in The Guardian, April 2024

Anyway, I soon went to sleep - and had very vivid hallucinatory dreams (possibly waking dreams, it was hard to decide whether I was asleep or awake). I also saw psychedelic, moving walls. Not very original. There is nothing in the tiny literature to say that Xylophene works like LSD. Do the horses and cattle injected with it have colourful trips ? I noticed my heart-rate drop (this was expected) along with my breathing (though I didn't have to fight for breath). My legs felt very peculiar but not unpleasant.

I woke at 8 a.m. and found that my legs wouldn't move…unless I shouted at them. So I got up a bit unsteadily, with (surprise!) a headache, and staggered into the bathroom. Cold water was pleasant. Then I very carefully went downstairs, but found that I couldn't swallow my toast. The extra-strong coffee I made had no taste.

Then I had to decide whether or not I was physically able to go to the market, because I had ordered 20 frozen croissants from Gavin. I slowly went to the car (rather in the halting fashion of the late Mr. Martino next door, who was around 90 when he died), bringing with me my wolf's head walking stick. Surprisingly, I was able to drive, veering only occasionally and slightly across the white line on the road. But when I completed the 12 kilometres to St-Antonin I was quite groggy and had a horrible taste in my mouth.

So I hobbled to Gavin's stall, got the croissants and headed back to the car, pausing only to buy some fennel and a couple of big white field mushrooms (because of the recent heat and rain). Driving home was fine, but when I got to the house I flopped. I hadn't pissed since I took the Xylazine. (Definitely a plus !) Eventually I decided to go back to bed, where I slept for a couple of hours, and woke up feeling much better. I had only poached egg on toast for dinner. It was another 48 hours before my normal pissing of 3-5 times a night was resumed.

Gavin asked me how I was (because I was leaning on my stick and probably looking a bit under the weather) and I launched into one of my involuntary monologues, this time about my involuntary monologues and Tourette-type talk when under stress. I told him about the episode with the nasty crypto-nazi policeman and the subsequent 200 euro fine plus 800 euros demanded by him for his subsequent misery and suffering, and 1 year's prison sentence suspended for 5 years for insulting the said deeply-unpleasant and bullying gendarme. I'm sure he could have done without hearing that story.

I discovered that I had left Gavin's nutty biscuits and a pain-aux-raisins somewhere…probably when I bought the fennel and mushrooms. So today I decided to make pin-head oatmeal porridge again for lunch, with real cream from the top of the bottle of the local (but pasteurised) milk.

I also discovered that I had more croissants in the freezer than I thought when I checked.

Yesterday afternoon I was able to read a few chapters of Hocus-Pocus. It has the same problem as other Vonnegut books: amusing but not all that funny, and 100 pages are enough for me. Relentless humour is...relentless, tiresome. Spike Milligan is a similar case. It is very, very hard to write a book that is funny and witty and entrancing all the way through. I have read a couple in the past year, but of course can't remember their titles.

So now I know that when my fronto-temporal dementia starts to take hold (probably not for a great many months yet) the Xylazine will work a treat. Out goes the Chlorophine that killed As so kindly. Probably in the same place as the 90+ redundant grams of 'Tranq'.

I don't think that my forgetfulness (to put in the hearing aids when I go out; to put on the right glasses; to pick up the car keys from where they are kept) is any more than a normal mild instance. A few weeks back I kept leaving lights on all night, but that hasn't happened recently.

I'm feeling fine now, still very up. I have been 2 weeks without Escitalopram. And now I know with certainty what to (try to) reach for instead of the phone if I fall down the stairs and break my femur again, or the other one. If I break my neck, however, I'll just have to lie there and die !




(100g minimum order via AliBaba)

Muscle-relaxant; hypo-tensive, hypothermic, CNS-depressant, soporific.


1.0 mg/lb for horse-tranquillising.

In horses and Cervidae, used at recommended dosage levels of Xylazine may occasionally cause slight muscle tremors, bradycardia with partial A-V heart block and a reduced respiratory rate. Movement in response to sharp auditory stimuli may be observed. In horses, sweating, rarely profuse, has been reported following administration. In Cervidae, salivation, various vocalizations (bellowing, bleating, groaning, grunting, snoring) on expiration, audible grinding of molar teeth, protruding tongue and elevated temperatures have also been noted in some cases.



Reported concentrations of xylazine in humans vary. In
non-fatal cases, reported concentrations were from 30 to 4,600
ng/mL with documented toxic effects including blurred vision,
disorientation, drowsiness, staggering, coma, bradycardia,
respiratory depression, hypotension, miosis, and
hyperglycemia. Fatality case reports have documented
concentration ranges from a trace amount up to 16,000 ng
[nanogram, one billionth of a gram)/mL microlitre or millionths of a litre]
in both as contributory factor and sole use.


Trade names:

Rompun, Sedazine, AnaSed, Chanazine.
Regularly supplied to veterinarians.



This is all the useful information I could find on the web.



allegedly from The California Examiner




This is probably the last web-page that I will add to this site, because of PFPs (pre-frontal problems), reduced motor perforrmance, and my deteriorating sight.


Nothing on this or any other page of my websites has been created by artificial 'intelligence'.

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