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24 Jan 99 FBI Search warrant auth. #1459687021AQ23

Found in silver Jeep Eagle lic. WA AQR 5983 registered to Joe Carson

Prayer with Erin’s daughter

I’m wastin’ the mornin’ readin’ poems.

Could be buyin’ stocks instead!

(I’ve got the cell phone in the Jeep.)

Might be sellin’! --Could be in bed!

But I’m wastin’ the a.m. rdg Liddy.

A hundred years ago he wrote:

‘Although you hide in the ebb and flow

Of the pale tide when the moon has set,

The people of coming days will know’--

A hundred years ago?

I don’t know. It says ‘1899’ here.

Liddy is that old?

I don’t know. I didn’t think so.

Maybe he got recarnintiated.

Huh. Yes, maybe.

Joe, what exactly is that?

What?

Recarnintiated?

I’m not sure. You should ask Zoe

or your mother.

I think its where you get a new

car after you die.

Hmm. What else happens?

‘About the casting out of my net,

And how you have leaped times out of mind

Over the little silver cords’ and so on.

Leaped times out of mind?

I just don’t get this poem at all. Do you?

I think it’s about a fish. See!? the poem

is called "The Fish"!

Oh. Who knows? You might be right.

Good eyes. I guess we should read the

titles too, huh.

I think it might jump out of the water.

Yeah. Here’s a short one called

"Gratitude to Unknown Instructors":

‘What they undertook to do

They brought to pass;

All things hang

like a drop of dew

Upon a blade of grass.’

Hmm.

I'm wastin’

My mornin’ reading poems.

--Look at you!

Could be shootin’ ducks instead,

could be fishin’ with your dad!

But you’re wastin’ your mornin’ readin’ Liddy!--

I think he wrote this one for you.

‘Never will a young man

thrown into despair

By those honey-colored ramparts

hanging by your ear.

Love you for yourself alone

and not your yellow hair.’

Now you read this part;

read it like the Queen of Sheba!

Ok. ‘But I could get a hair dye

and set such color there,

brown or black or car-rot’--Car-rot?

Carrot.

Carrot?

Orange.

I would rather have it pink.

Ok. That’d be cool. Go ahead.

‘that young men in de-’--what is this?

Despair.

‘De-spair, could love me for myself

alone and not my yellow hair.’

Good.

What is despair?

Let’s read some more,

we’ll find it.

But I have to

read this first, the final one:

‘I heard an old religious man

but yesternight declare

that he had found a text to prove

that only God, my dear,

could love you for yourself alone

and not your yellow hair.’

You don’t love me for myself alone?

No! Only for your yellow hairs!

Really no?

Just like the text declares!

Oh, funny.

Hmm. Now it had slipped my mind that while

he goes to Innisfree and makes a speech

about it as he leaves: ‘I will arise and go now,’

I am going, watch me go! I will arise and go now,

and go to Innisfree ‘and a small cabin build there,’

and ‘I shall have some peace there’ --once I get there--

Bye!

Bye now!

See you later!--

See you later alligator!

When your nose is straighter!

What?!

Bye!

I’m leaving now!--

and I certainly shall have

some peace after I get there when I get

that cabin built, ‘of clay and wattles made’--

Wattles? What are wattles made?

‘Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for

the honey-bee, and live alone in the bee-loud glade.’

He lives alone?

Yes.

What about the bees? It says the bees

are loud.

Oh. True.

Aren’t there any fishes?

I don’t know.

What happens next?

‘And I shall have some peace there,

for peace comes dropping slow’

Comes dropping slow

--and so on, what had slipped

my mind is when he’s

standing in the subway,

or at the video store,

At the ice cream store?

Or ‘on the roadway,

on the pavement grey,’

or at the ice cream store,

It might be raining--

he can hear it still, hears it

‘in the deep heart’s core’.

Oh. He does? Hears what?

Hears the lake, ‘lake water lapping.’

Sorry, I should have said that.

Not the peace that’s

dropping slow,

dew falling

off a blade of grass,

like rain?

No, not that peace, he does not

hear that.

He hears ‘lake water

lapping, with low sounds by the shore’.

The shore? A lake?

Yes.

So then maybe there are fishes!

Maybe.

So could we go swimming there?

It might be too cold.

I don’t care.

Hmm. This one has a surprise

ending. So get ready.

‘The angels

are stooping Above your bed;

They weary of trooping

With the whimpering dead.’

Is she dying?

‘God’s laughing in Heaven

To see you so good;

The Sailing Seven are gay

with His mood.’

What?-- I don’t get this one.

‘I sigh that kiss you,

For I must own

That I shall miss you

When you have grown.’

So she wasn’t dying?

Not necessarily.

Is that despair?

Just a bit.

I think it’s time for lunch.

You’re right.--How about just one more?

Ok.

‘A pity beyond all telling

Is hid in the heart of love:

The folk who are buying and selling,

The clouds on their journey above,

The cold wet winds ever blowing,

And the shadowy hazel grove

Where mouse-grey waters

are flowing’--

Mouse-grey?

Like on a squirrel.

So the water probably

is like a sewer ditch.

I guess so--

What about them?

What about what?

Well, what about the folk,

the clouds, the cold wet winds,

the shadowy hazel grove,

and the sewer?

Uh. Let’s see. They

‘threaten the head that I love.’

Maybe the fish could leap

times out of mind.

I mean, if there are any,

I mean, in the sewer ditch.

Maybe so.

I’ve got an itch

right in my knee.

Hmm. Good rhymin’.

--Oh. Here’s that one

about a girl who must have

thrown him overboard.

He sees her

when she’s old and grey and

full of sleep, and nodding by a fire,

and so on.

She’s going to sleep.

Uh-huh.

He can see her read

this poem and ‘dream of the soft look

your eyes had once,

and of their shadows deep;

how many loved your moments of glad grace,

and loved your beauty with love false or true,’

But what I had forgotten is this part:

What is love false or true?

‘But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,

and loved the sorrows of your changing face.’

The pilgrim soul?

Yes, baby. Her pilgrim soul.

The sorrows.

Uh-huh.

So not the yellow hair?

Hmm. Yah. No. Maybe not then.

Wanna’ roast some marshmallows now?

Yes.

Ok. Let’s go.

We totally wasted this mornin’, didn’t we?

We could’ve sold some stocks instead!

Could’ve bought ‘em!

Could be dead!

But we wasted the a.m. rdg Liddy.

2-8-99 FBI Electronic Listening Device auth. #53555328838:

Seattle, Washington

**

Hello?

Hi Zo.

No. this is Shantila. I've changed my name to Shantila now.

Oh, yes. Ok. Hello, Shantila.

Zoe, I have a new joke for you.

Ok.

When I say I am a Erin lock, you say I am a Erin key. Ok?

Ok.

I am an Erin lock.

I am an Erin key.

I am a Joe lock.

I am a Erin key.

No. You have to say I am a Joe key.

I thought you said I should say I am an Erin key.

No you have to say the same name key that I am a lock.

Ok.

Ok. I am an Erin lock.

I am an Erin key.

I am a Joe lock.

I am a Joe key.

I am a Tim lock.

I am a Tim key.

I am a Zoe lock.

I am a Zoe key.

I am a Don lock.

Who?

Don.

Don who?

It doesn’t matter. So just say it.

I am a Don key.

Oh, is that right? Are you really? Very interesting.

Yes, I am a Don key.

I did not know that.

Very funny. Is your mama there?

Do you get it?

Yes. I am a donkey. He-he.

I think you say he-haw.

He-haw. Where’s your she-haw-mama at?

She’s meeting with Daddy’s lawyer, I think. She didn’t want to tell me but I figured it out.

Are you there alone?

Yes.

Are you ok?

Yes, of course.

You are a pilgrim soul, aren’t you.

What is a soul?

Just the pure you, separate from your experiences.

A pilgrim? Like with a black pointy hat?

Actually there probably isn’t anything like that at all.

No hats?

No pure you.

Oh, funny.

Want to go camping again Saturday?

Yah!

Tell your mama I called up, ok?

Yes.

Are you ok there?

Yes, of course.

You are a pilgrim soul, aren’t you?

What is a soul?

Didn’t we already have this conversation?

Yes.

[Giggling]

What are you doing?

Watching tv.

What’s on?

Uh, Beastie Boys.

Mtv?

Yes. The one where they are sailing through the galaxy.

Oh. That’s a good one.

They have on funny suits. --Z, are you going to die?

What?

are you going to die?

What do you mean?

If your head doesn’t get better?

Well.

When you die, you stop breathing.

Yes. That is true. Everybody will die at some point.

I know that too.

Ok. Love you, Shantila.

Yes. I love you too, Z.

ok. Tell your mom I called up, ok?

Do you love me for myself alone?

Well, what is you yourself alone?

I don’t know.

Is there such a being?

You are always asking me these questions.

Uh-uh! You started it! Were you asking if I love you only because of your jokes?

Or my hair?

I like your hair.

But is that me?

Is it?

No because it could all get cut off.

Yah, like mine is. It wasn’t me myself.

So?

Well, whoever we are, baby, I love you as myself.

Oh. Ok.

Thank you for your questions, Ms. Shantila. It is always nice talking with you. I have to go now.

See you later alligator.

Ok. See you.

When your nose is straighter.

Funny.

Bye.

See you in the funny papers.

Ok. See you there too.

[File end]

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