NOTES ON DE BIRD SHIT--BIRD BONE sHIt IsLaNd BLuEs
Fort Carroll stands guard to Baltimore, Maryland at the mouth of the Inner Harbor. Designed by that walking contradiction young Robert E. Lee long before becoming Confederate Commander of the Northern Virginia Army. This Fort in the middle of the Patapsco River has never seen any real war action. Army target practice took place here possibly up to World War Two. Find out all the correct and detailed information upon this ghost fort at www.bytenet.net/rmscaronia/Main Fort Carroll Page old.htm or http://www.lighthousefriends.com/light.asp?ID=422 or ....FIND IT.
The place is now a strange bird sanctuary. A friend, his dumbly pup and I ventured out to the forgotten derelict in his red plastic canoe. Pictures below are by Mr. Hanzi. Text are notes written two days after the adventure. Speculations that ramble in tha somewhars
Do not touch the water as the local radio warns about the inner harbor.
These notes reflect speculations that arose from the experience.
Disaster
(s) real and imagined
Realism is real and imaging. Realism is imaging the imagination.
Realism is
the imaginative(s)-----cartography
Realism is birds over taking
history. Realism is the spirit messenger
birds O the water. O the Chesapeake.
Realism is
shitting on history and making it real.
Realism is birds shitting on historical remnants and making thangs pure.
Saying
things you did not know you did not know you needed to know.
Things are
growing old in the young. What are these
things?
The birds
will tell me the birds will tell me various things. green eggs. dark green muted eggs with
blackish spots. Birds. Sea birds ready
to projectile into the world.
Bones
crunch
the crash of birds
upon Robert E.
Lee's Hexagon. He designed it and made it occur, yet he
never visited the fort and the fort never saw real (real) human violence.
THe fort existed
because of imaginative possibility.
Patapsco River blues. Baltimore is in the haze today upon a
Friday. A fog of weather. A fog of pollution. Cargo and belching ships. Cargo ships.
Speed boats. Cruise ship
Blues. those rich fucks--going to the
inner harbor. A fog of emotions. Trailing you and me and the meat. The WHOLE MEAT.
Tha smell
O gasoline from Curtis CreeK mixing. polluting. BP polluting and enabling us. Gobbling us to
and fro in the froth of dullard fuss.
found a
bullet (lead) green Spanish American war
Rehearsals. World War One or World War
Two Shooting rehearsals.
Casts of
the old cannons long gone --casts of old cannons made into concrete casts and
then those are mostly destroyed.
Birds shit
and make things real. birds die and make
things real. Walking on the fortress
wall and crunch crunch. Bones Crunch.
thar was a
house. for tha OLe Lighthouse Keeper.
and the house is gone. and I could not find the foundation (s). Are these trees Peach trees.
The Man
who bought the island in 1950ish....1952.
planted many Peach trees. He was
gonna bring gamblers here to gamble.
This could
be an orchard that doesn't grow covered in bird shit.
Yor usual
birds. Herons. White Herons.
ducks neath tha bush. some kinda
hawKs. seagulls yu keep squawkin and
those mysterious abundance of all these strange large black sea birds.
Sometimes
theY be a Blu e EGG. A bright bLUe pasteL BLUE egg --amongst tha
dark green eggs with black splotches.
CHicKs
everWhar. chicKs gawkin tha aiR. Lookin fo MommY's primaL food garbLE.
THousands
upon thousands upon thousands upon thousands of old bird nests and new bird
nests and bird nests upon bird nests and the garbage of man and woman some sum
these birds maketh thar nests outta.
Ole
useless empty drug prescription bottles yet not useless in their durability cuz
they exist and they have no no purpose anymore.
red canoe
dog tied
to tha red canoe
jumps into
murky water. stullifying grotesque them waters dirtY.
I pull Mr
Dog out. He shakes on both of us
as we
paddle. Dumb dogs are puppies are dumb
dogs.
it were
graY when we paddled out then tha sun came ouT and tha sun began ta baKe the
white caked bird shit especially amongst the bottom below tha fortress walls.
Sea breeze
up on de walls. and you can see PoLIce HeLicopTor flyin tha Late spring bLue
skies and tha fuckeR don'T see Us in his faKe metaL deomON birD. BURST.
horror
rust tractor in the caverns that used tA landscape tha grounDs.... Stalactite
stalagmite.
water stains look
like blood. and some room fort brick
caverns are completely bloody in black blood darkness.
skeleton
and skin and birds hangin from fishin wire and the hooks through thar mouthbeaK
(blues) or thar wings and they was struggling and now they hang in death. TERRIBLE AVIAN DEATH BLUES!
birds dead
birds on the ground. they are talking the dead birds on the ground. and the seagulls are secret monkey Gods who
talk in Places invisible places to tha OTHER GODS. Greasy bones. dry bones crunch.
we drink a
little bottle of liquor in tha bleached out ole wooden Lighthouse. 1968
graffiti.
GHost of
tha old guard dog? yu get warned when
you dock. IT painted big . PRIVATE.
GUARD DOG! Who feeds the guard dog? Who feeds the ghost of tha guard dog covered
in bird shit.
we tha
only ghosts out here. Two men and one
single old puppy upon a dragging leash.
Below is the WhoLe text not broken up with all the photos.
Notes
On Bird SHIT. BIrd Shit Bone Island Blues
Disaster
(s) real and imagined
Realism is real and imaging. Realism is imaging the imagination.
Realism is
the imaginative(s)-----cartography
Realism is birds over taking
history. Realism is the spirit messenger
birds O the water. O the Chesapeake.
Realism is
shitting on history and making it real.
Realism is birds shitting on historical remnants and making thangs pure.
Saying
things you did not know you did not know you needed to know.
Things are
growing old in the young. What are these
things?
The birds
will tell me the birds will tell me various things. green eggs. dark green muted eggs with
blackish spots. Birds. Sea birds ready
to projectile into the world.
Bones
crunch
the crash of birds
upon Robert E.
Lee's Hexagon. He designed it and made it occur, yet he
never visited the fort and the fort never saw real (real) human violence.
THe fort existed
because of imaginative possibility.
Patapsco River blues. Baltimore is in the haze today upon a
Friday. A fog of weather. A fog of pollution. Cargo and belching ships. Cargo ships.
Speed boats. Cruise ship
Blues. those rich fucks--going to the
inner harbor. A fog of emotions. Trailing you and me and the meat. The WHOLE MEAT.
Tha smell
O gasoline from Curtis CreeK mixing. polluting. BP polluting and enabling us. Gobbling us to
and fro in the froth of dullard fuss.
found a
bullet (lead) green Spanish American war
Rehearsals. World War One or World War
Two Shooting rehearsals.
Casts of
the old cannons long gone --casts of old cannons made into concrete casts and
then those are mostly destroyed.
Birds shit
and make things real. birds die and make
things real. Walking on the fortress
wall and crunch crunch. Bones Crunch.
thar was a
house. for tha OLe Lighthouse Keeper.
and the house is gone. and I could not find the foundation (s). Are these trees Peach trees.
The Man
who bought the island in 1950ish....1952.
planted many Peach trees. He was
gonna bring gamblers here to gamble.
This could
be an orchard that doesn't grow covered in bird shit.
Yor usual
birds. Herons. White Herons.
ducks neath tha bush. some kinda
hawKs. seagulls yu keep squawkin and
those mysterious abundance of all these strange large black sea birds.
Sometimes
theY be a Blu e EGG. A bright bLUe pasteL BLUE egg --amongst tha
dark green eggs with black splotches.
CHicKs
everWhar. chicKs gawkin tha aiR. Lookin fo MommY's primaL food garbLE.
THousands
upon thousands upon thousands upon thousands of old bird nests and new bird
nests and bird nests upon bird nests and the garbage of man and woman some sum
these birds maketh thar nests outta.
Ole
useless empty drug prescription bottles yet not useless in their durability cuz
they exist and they have no no purpose anymore.
red canoe
dog tied
to tha red canoe
jumps into
murky water. stullifying grotesque them waters dirtY.
I pull Mr
Dog out. He shakes on both of us
as we
paddle. Dumb dogs are puppies are dumb
dogs.
it were
graY when we paddled out then tha sun came ouT and tha sun began ta baKe the
white caked bird shit especially amongst the bottom below tha fortress walls.
Sea breeze
up on de walls. and you can see PoLIce HeLicopTor flyin tha Late spring bLue
skies and tha fuckeR don'T see Us in his faKe metaL deomON birD. BURST.
horror
rust tractor in the caverns that used tA landscape tha grounDs.... Stalactite
stalagmite.
water stains look
like blood. and some room fort brick
caverns are completely bloody in black blood darkness.
skeleton
and skin and birds hangin from fishin wire and the hooks through thar mouthbeaK
(blues) or thar wings and they was struggling and now they hang in death. TERRIBLE AVIAN DEATH BLUES!
birds dead
birds on the ground. they are talking the dead birds on the ground. and the seagulls are secret monkey Gods who
talk in Places invisible places to tha OTHER GODS. Greasy bones. dry bones crunch.
we drink a
little bottle of liquor in tha bleached out ole wooden Lighthouse. 1968
graffiti.
GHost of
tha old guard dog? yu get warned when
you dock. IT painted big . PRIVATE.
GUARD DOG! Who feeds the guard dog? Who feeds the ghost of tha guard dog covered
in bird shit.
we tha
only ghosts out here. Two men and one
single old puppy upon a dragging leash.
(end)
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