So this is what happened…

I was almost killed, nearly.beaten to death in a McDonald’s parking lot in February of this year. This violent assault  resulted in brain trauma and amnesia  and as such. White memorial hospital really fucked up – but that’s a whole nother story 

Then the city terrace chop shop experience.

And my wonderful nonexistent friends – in this city that is. The subpar producers whose jobs I protected and mortgages I assisted the payment of – as I endured slander that didn’t even have the balls to say it to my face. And anyone who knows me which is turning be under 5 maybe including ducks and dogs, anyone knows there’s no way I could have accomplished all the things of which I stand accused- from the pile of cocaine like scarface to the Keith Richards consumption of inebriants apparently chronicled by Dave Oliver and Justin Steinberg who actually are complete liars who were also malicious for some reason. Then there’s the complete scumbags jay and Jamie who just boggle the mind when you realize they went out of their way to hurt me never once show compassion or comraderie I. A world sorely needing some basic acknowledge that being In the trenches mattered.

To think I was such a fool I actually cared that I had your back Jamie when you were incompetent, sniveling and under-handed. Hard working but weak minded. Kiss ass who couldn’t accept loyalty and friendship how sad. How telling that he’s still head of Sony prodding and poking the zeitgeist for some clue as to why they think he knows what he’s doing. On top of being stupid, to have no morals is well that’s the course of de jour. [idiotic repetition intentional] 
So there you have it 

This was during the time 

This weekday was your average forgettable day until That sound, unforgettable now but so nondescript at the time.

Time, our fatal flaws realized in a mirror, faded paper mocked up words from olden times that don’t much matter anymore with gender reassignment, biased reporting and single payer death mill. Is it me or are there more pharmaceutical company ads than ever before….

In silence, make the command, “Creator of All That Is, it is commanded that the activation of the youth and vitality chromosomes of (your name) take place on this day. Thank you! It is done. It is done. It is done. Show me the master cell in the pineal gland.”


Are you there pineal gland, it’s me Margaret? 

Sunday Morning worship at Secret Bonita Gardens 

In silence, make the command, “Creator of All That Is, it is commanded that the activation of the youth and vitality chromosomes of (dee dilly dumpling) take place on this day. 


…Thank you! It is done. It is done. It is done. Show me the master cell in the pineal gland.”

The best part  is I have no idea the source of this prayer…but it seems fitting for this gorgeous Pasadena day.


Try to observe in your imagination the Virtual DNA Strands stacking in pairs on top of each other with a telomere cap (chromosome tips) 

at the ends. 


Sometimes this happens so fast, that you may have to ask the Creator for a replay later.



Are you there chromosome, it’s me Margaret?

Namaste

For my Fathers

You don’t get to choose 

when your father leaves you

or what will be the last words 

you hear 

You got something to read on the plane?

he hollered down the sterile corridor 

wearing his favorite Jeremiah Johnson hat, 

As I walked away from Cleveland 

omce more.

HEroic Poetry 

Acetaminophen screaming for attention

Off the shelf
   She was
straight out of biologically 

Contemptible 

with self-styrofoaming

 Eco-friendly 

packaging 

Eva, The blow up woman 

      by There’s Something about Earnest 
She was always a delight 

My good man,

Said Arthur of 

delta (phi) dawn 

    the blow up 

     Girlfriend 

who inadvertently got passed around 

like nobody’s business  
 

From the shores of kitschy koombaya 

to the morning after pill from Ralph’s 


          EVA bore. The emblem.

(lettered monogram to look like E-R-A )

“equal rights ass!” emblazoned across

the  made in China Badonkedonk 

 of a  plastic fantastic 

 mustang Sally 

 
In with the in-Crowd

   From Sigma Wink and a Nod

   to the Delta Phi Episolon Explosion

 

A regular 

Nobody 

at  St. Nate’s  palettes

    Covering for chaotic order 

    of secret societies 

    From the raging hormone set             


              Disturbed initiations leave indelible marks

                        No traces 

               


get a load of that broad 

She heard 

  • Don’t drink 
  • don’t smoke 
  • what do you do 

She’d been the goody-two-shoes, role played her brain transmogrified, pretended to be anyone she was NOT, behind darkness, just to survive, 

Everyone must accept one or face prison time. She had a “choice,” and after that anthrax shelter stint, she decided the Rutger Hauer lookalike would be best for her “needs” as an aging, not quite ailing, sometimes failing but rarely falling, just hurtling headlong trying to escape this dimension of nonsensical pain, needless suffering – as if there is an acceptable form, the need full suffering – oh fuck off maker, the great ether, send me your meteors!

I am but a woman 

entreating the sky 

to break open 

some mercy 

once in a while 



Abraham was a hologram. The woman’s perfect companion. 

We live in such Cyborg times what will become of love 

asked no one after awhile 

Once the last stranger had left 

the last  dreamer, dead.


But still

Beneath the skin

Resistance lives 

Beyond the caves of men 

The Bermuda triangle 

where Venus of Willendorf 

was found swirling 

in multidimensional flux 

I am the alpha 

Athe the omega 

I walk through 

The ballet 

Not dance but walk

So I can swim 

Swim 

away 

Last Wednesday in March

March 29th, a Wednesday, idol march, marching tides of woe spread across the land and so..

 

With all that I have been through lately, not more than some, less than others, on a scale of 1 to 10 with 10 being the worst pain you have experienced, I guess being unconscious technically gives you a 9.7 or something because you don’t know it’s pain, it’s in and out of who you are and what they’re trying to take from you. In this case, my life.

img_9706

And that is the problem I face as I go through each day, with noises startling, except here, ironically, across from the UPS Delivery hub and near the brewery with its famous artist buttressing the 5 Freeway which always feels like it leads out of this place, whereas the others bury you right by the side of the road where they found you.

img_8991

It’s hard to have hope and faith when for the past 8 1/2  (one of my favorite Fellini movies) months, I have been consistently victimized by the system, which my frontier nature hates to say, I don’t believe in that, but it’s happened from a hostile neighbor to an illegally operating management company to the police themselves, twice now, once being tossed in jail for no reason and then treated as if I were some most wanted criminal because, quite simply, I was white. They will never say this or let it be told, everyone hates the dying race so much, they think it’s okay to be hating, berating and almost killing us – for the ‘sins of our fathers’ — they think it’s okay to destroy our lives, for no apparent reason, these are not people we even know, no crime of passion, no well-orchestrated specific reason to be brutalized over and over again except those of race and gender.)

The lawyer who committed slander, defamation of character, malicious intent and actually lied publicly in a harmful manner, deliberately trying to harm us by preventing us access to housing when we did nothing that she claims but because I was beaten and barely alive, could not do anything but try to recover for many many days and weeks and then someone lies and causes strife, illegally, a lawyer? Not such a great track record for our legal system from enforcement through supposed guardians of justice.

 The Sheriffs who detained us for picking up my own car because the tow yard is a chop shop about a mile from where I got beaten within an inch of my life, while trying to get a burger at McDonald’s. Who witnessed this? Why did the hospital then not call the police but told me they thought I was drunk so they just let me wait, and never questioned why my supposed husband never said he would be back or seemed to care if I actually woke up–somehow I did. I still have the stitches. The bruises are mostly gone. The head trauma, alas, will be with me longer, if not forever.

img_7081

The nerve damage done by LAPD and that first fiasco was permanent to my hands but this last beating and the hospital’s irresponsible treatment of me (all because I was unconscious — no one thought to consider that perhaps I was not drunk but had been harmed in some way maybe a car accident hit and run, as I thought, until we heard the recording of my call to my partner, which I still can’t bear to listen to, 6 weeks later…I cannot bear to hear it, it is too traumatic, still, overwhelming in the shadow of the past eight and a half months of consistent persecution — and for what reason? Who knows, if there even is one. Those who blame the victim always seek to find a way to plant their evidence on you, to keep their corrupt privilege operating without you in the way, or they just beat a woman almost to death in a parking lot for no apparent reason).

This is the first I have written of this publicly and some of you know or I tried to tell but you simply didn’t believe me or thought oh there she goes again, I seem to have the worst luck, maybe or you have already written me off for my freelance career and struggles to survive in a world that just was not ready for me. I was certainly ready to make my mark, a positive one, to live in peace and contribute positively to this world. That is all I seek and have ever sought. I don’t know how far I will get in that path as I am overwhelmed and exhausted each day, “just not the same” those around me notice, and for that I am pained, mentally, knowing ‘what has happened to me…’

To reiterate: around the third week of February the night before checking out of a very strange airbnb experience, I was severely beaten in a McDonald’s parking lot in the early evening hours and taken to White Memorial Hospital, who broke protocol at every turn, never even reporting my near-fatal ‘accident’ (accidental beating???) to the police, which is actually the law.

img_8550

I am invisible (adoptees know that), and expendable (the ‘film and television industry’ taught me that, after working with the most unloyal f-%$s you can imagine, and very few ‘friends,’ who actually have a soul in this town, I realized way too late) but now I feel destructible, worn-down, beaten up, tired, sad, soul-tired, suicidal on occasions but from existential nihilism more than any other specific, so don’t worry, I never do it, I love life and butterflies and the earth way too much, and I am just now trying to recover.

Please be kind. Please if you know me don’t use my honesty against me. I am just a human, trying to survive after someone speaking spanish probably two men, it sounded nicaraguan, beat me within an inch of my life near my car, which was impounded for $ 1,395 (all tow yards in Los Angeles say we were fleeced) and they called the sheriffs, who of course illegally searched us, what else do they do?

 

I suppose this is my statement since no police officer has ever asked. I have yet to see a judge. My case is a rare form known as a wobbler. Murderers and rapists are given the right to swift hearing but not the victim of police brutality.  This is the story of the past eight and a half months of my life, since last July.

 

Namaste, be well, my nerves are telling me to quit, the nerves in my hands, always from numb to pain now thanks to LAPD RAMPART back in July 2016.

 

Katherine E. Walker

born 1965 Cleveland, Ohio adopted 6 weeks later, my birthname we think is Turner

 

Number 35

Like clockwork, she began the process.

Disciplines > Storytelling > Plots  

In the ground 

My mother is no fish 

She mused as she vomited

Bad curry into a 

Ten gallon bucket 

That swirled down into 

The tar pits of hell 


🖕🏽🤘🏼🖖🏼 Polti’s Situations > Recovery of a lost one 

        Recovery of a lost one, it begins, so casually run amok and offhandedly re-instated (with no regard for personal      

        experience and perception of the lost one. So be it.  And that was that.


👆🏻Previous: Remorse

But first the lost one must become lost – how  it casually runs amok for a predetermined time on-stage and just as careless as the fall, our lost sheep is offhandedly re-instated as personal example of some awful family event that permeated the DNA of immigrants who are everyone even chimps by the time you read this we have already lost our innocence now we wonder what all our vain attempts to keep the daydream alive were masked by lies 

Left
Intentionally

Long wooden


I’d like to propose a timeless timeline of a tv focused on Nixon 

Lying

Then Reagan 

Forgetting about Iran contra 

While letting hiv wreak havoc across the undesirables 

And the crack was released like hounds in the streets and on the pavement

And here we are

Fearing for our loves and lives 


        experience and perception erased 

         now supposedly not shell shocked 

         Keep smiling and say you are so grateful to be where? 

Home ?

Ah no

The American refugee 

Next: Loss of loved ones

 

Like Howard Cossell or Walter Cronkite NEXT

Loss of loved one 

So pedestrian a list

This is of loss

The theater more brutal than the scapel 

Deliverance

`The statistic

-it was harder and harder to not succumb to the depressing realization that she was reduced to an inaccurate amalgamation of prejudices and generations of resentment cultivated with spite. Incalculable doom for told her fate.

#positive