The document appears to be notes for a fictional play or book titled "One Fine American Day" by Patricia Louise McGurk. It includes excerpts from the work, which describe a "genius" woman who was not acknowledged for her intelligence and the hardships faced by homeless individuals. The main character expresses protecting their beloved from the cold by mending and saving their coat despite challenges.

1. Wednesday,October5,2016
“The Genius"byPatriciaLouise McGurk (NotesforaPlayI am Writing)
Notesfora Fictional orNon-Factual PlayorBook I am Writing inthe Draft Stage,“One Fine American
Day” email contact:Patricialouisemcgurk@gmail.comThe GeniusbyPatriciaLouise McGurk(Copyright
Personal 2016)
“We didn’tknowshe couldtalknormal like us,sowe didn’ttalkto her.Talk Normal like us,like we talk
– foryearswe didn’tinclude herforthisreason.Ireallydidn’tknow she wasageniuswhocouldtalk,
anotherman spoke attheirmeetingof theirpeers.Whatgenius?One commentedinfrontof “the
woman"as theyreferredtoher.That will be the day– she or “it” isa genius.”
It was dogdeicide inthe UnitedStatesastheirkilledthe Dog,the houndof heavenandthe houndsof
hell.Unmercifully,too,eliminatedall hopeof divinepresence intheirforsakenlandthattheydidn't
own,and didnotcare about inthe UnitedStates.The womendidnotcelebrate,either,asthere was
nothingtocelebrate.Theybannedthe meaningof all holidays,includingChristmasthatmanycherished,
and theirownHarvestcelebration,too.Yetanyone hadaright to theirownholidaywithout
discrimination,asDr.Martin Luther King’sbirthdaywaschangedinto“Lee-Jackson- KingDay”,withtwo
Confederate Generalssharingthe day’shonorsandhonoringnationally.
The homelesswere allowedaccesstothe publicbuildings,includingthe libraries,onthisday,Martin
LutherKing’sBirthday,butneverornot the genius,now referredtobythe AmericanPolice as
“PermanentHomelessVagrant”,herstatus.Everyone else filedintothe libraries,whichwere public,to
use the free computersandread aboutthe world,andwrite messagesinabottle theyhopedsomeone
wouldreadone day abouttheirminiature shipsinabottle letloose onaragingsea. Onthe Internetand
inreal life.
I will notletthemripthe buttonsoff my Old Coat againinthe winterasI watch theirhorrorfacesrip my
Coat fromthe trash-pile inthe ComfortTenteverywinterseasonIpickupall the buttonsstrewninthe
dirtof citystreetsto mendthe oldnavyblue wool coattoo longfor me,yetholdinghope once in
Childhoodasa signof Love The police seize the coatnotme but whatis the difference?Ifolditcarefully
once again placingitinthe nearlysoakingwetblacktrash-bagsinthe tentso my Belovedwill notfreeze
inthe winter’scoldwithoutme incase theyfreeze me againandshe feelsalone becauseIcannotwear
thiscoat My Belovedwill findawarm,neatly-foldedcoatfromMe to wearwithconfidence of Beauty
not a nobody,My Belovedbutalwaysthe One ILove I pressthe foldsof the warm coat inthe trashbagI
createdfor thisstoringsmoothandreassure myself itisdryand myLove will neverfreezeagaininawet
coat or no coat at all Thisusedreallyalmostdirtycoatremainsunwantedinthe free clothestentin
whichI foundit – familiaronce longagoonce I saw me wearingitgrateful notto die inthe coldand
missingme thinkingthe cast-off garmentwasasignof love fromothersbutit wasn’tbutreallyitis only
love fromMe.
So I wrapmy Love in whatthe torturerscalled"Hitler’s longcoat"or justHIS or her?longcoat (theysaid
it wasnevermine,myusedcoat,but an American’scalledHitler) justforafew minutesinthe winterso
the coat has remainedthe dryone one more time butbarelythistime or laststill itisnot the wetor
stolenpolice coatsthrowninmyface Just the Dry Wool witha rippedliningInevergotto fix ormend

2. NowI release andabandonthatcoat, too intomyBeloved’shandsasitisdry and warm anda prayer
fromMe inthe incarcerationof my possessionsthatneverwarmedme bymurderingstorm-troopers
thwartedagainwhosavedmy Coatthistime,althoughunknowingIwalkawayfromthe Atrocitieswith
my Belovedtosmell the New Airsomewhere else where noone knowshow tosplitthe child.
An intellectualnoone wantsandputtingon a brave face the womantrance victimsuddenlywakesup
rearrangeshercoat indoorsfindingitonherbodyshe had forgottenbutfamiliargivesupwithout
touchinghermessyhairand triesto rememberwhereshe lostherself and whyhostilepeople are staring
at her inthe brightbrightlightsfoldingherarmsinsecure tryingnottocry witha setjaw that won’t
move andwearinglonguglypantswithshorthemsin the wrongcolor andtexture she remembers
feelingherlegsoralongbaggy denimfadedskirtwithgrease stainsthatonce neverfithereyesaverted
downcastshe liftsthemupwithstrengthreclaimingandtryingagainto finddignityagaininher
droopingshouldershersuckedinbreathdeathlyherribcage collapsedwiththe terrorsof horrortorture
and embracesherself IEmbracedMyself (Jan14, 2016 | post#1)
“The Genius”byPatriciaLouise McGurk
Notesfora Fictional PlayorBookI am Writing, “One Fi…
Notesfora Fictional orNon-Factual PlayorBook I am Writinginthe Draft Stage,“One Fine American
Day” email contact:Patricialouisemcgurk@gmail.comThe GeniusbyPatriciaLouise McGurk(Copyright
Personal 2016) “We didn’tknowshe couldtalknormal like us,so we didn’ttalkto her.Talk Normal like
us,like we talk – for yearswe didn’tinclude herforthisreason.Ireallydidn’tknow she wasa genius
whocouldtalk,anotherman spoke at theirmeetingof theirpeers.Whatgenius?One commentedin
frontof “the woman”,as theyreferredtoher.That will be the day – she or “it” isa genius.”
It was dogdeicide inthe UnitedStatesastheirkilledthe Dog,the houndof heavenandthe houndsof
hell.Unmercifully,too,eliminatedall hopeof divinepresence intheirforsakenlandthattheydidn’t
own,and didnotcare about inthe UnitedStates.The womendidnotcelebrate,either,asthere was
nothingtocelebrate.Theybannedthe meaningof all holidays,includingChristmasthatmanycherished,
and theirownHarvestcelebration,too.Yetanyone hadaright to theirownholidaywithout
discrimination,asDr.Martin Luther King’sbirthdaywaschangedinto“Lee-Jackson- KingDay”,withtwo
Confederate Generalssharingthe day’shonorsandhonoringnationally.
The homelesswere allowedaccesstothe publicbuildings,includingthe libraries,onthisday,Martin
LutherKing’sBirthday,butneverornot the genius,now referredtobythe AmericanPolice as
“PermanentHomelessVagrant”,herstatus.Everyone else filedintothe libraries,whichwere public,to
use the free computersandread aboutthe world,andwrite messagesinabottle theyhopedsomeone
wouldreadone day abouttheirminiature shipsinabottle letloose onaragingsea. Onthe Internetand
inreal life.
My Beloved, I Am Never Cold by Patricia Louise McGurk

3. My Beloved,IAmNeverColdbyPatriciaLouise McGurkPostedon8 MinutesAgobypatricialouisemcgu
rk MY BELOVED, I AMNEVERCOLD (PARTFOURTEEN [Section2] of My Original PoemorCompiled
Poems- by PatriciaLouise McGurk (sometimeslistedas"PatriciaL.McGurk", as well COPYRIGHT2012
I will notletthemripthe buttonsoff my OldCoat againinthe winterasI watch theirhorrorfacesrip my
Coat fromthe trash-pile inthe ComfortTenteverywinterseasonIpickupall the buttonsstrewninthe
dirtof citystreetsto mendthe oldnavyblue wool coattoo longfor me,yetholdinghope once in
Childhoodasa signof Love The police seize the coatnotme but whatis the difference?Ifolditcarefully
once again placingitinthe nearlysoakingwetblacktrash-bagsinthe tentso my Belovedwill notfreeze
inthe winter’scoldwithoutme incase theyfreeze me againandshe feelsalone becauseIcannotwear
thiscoat My Belovedwill findawarm,neatly-foldedcoatfromMe to wearwithconfidence of Beauty
not a nobody,My Belovedbutalwaysthe One ILove I pressthe foldsof the warm coat inthe trashbagI
createdfor thisstoringsmoothandreassure myself itisdryand myLove will neverfreezeagaininawet
coat or no coat at all Thisusedreallyalmostdirtycoatremainsunwantedinthe free clothestentin
whichI foundit– familiaronce longagoonce I saw me wearingitgrateful notto die inthe cold and
missingme thinkingthe cast-off garmentwasasignof love fromothersbutit wasn’tbutreallyitis only
love fromMe, herBelovedsoIwrap myLove inHitler’slongcoator just HISor her?longcoat (theysaid
it wasnevermine,myusedcoat,but an American’scalledHitler) justforafew minutesinthe winterso
the coat has remainedthe dryone one more time butbarelythistime or laststill itisnot the wetor
stolenpolice coatsthrowninmyface Just the Dry Wool witha rippedliningInevergotto fix ormend
NowI release andabandon thatcoat, too intomyBeloved’shandsasitisdry and warm anda prayer
fromMe inthe incarcerationof my possessionsthatneverwarmedme bymurderingstorm-troopers
thwartedagain whosavedmy Coatthistime,althoughunknowingIwalkawayfromthe Atrocitieswith
my Belovedtosmell the New Airsomewhere else where noone knowshow tosplitthe child.
An intellectualnoone wantsandputtingon a brave face the womantrance victim suddenlywakesup
rearrangeshercoat indoorsfindingitonherbodyshe had forgottenbutfamiliargivesupwithout
touchinghermessyhairand triesto rememberwhereshe lostherself andwhyhostilepeople are staring
at her inthe brightbrightlights foldingherarmsinsecure tryingnottocry witha setjaw that wonÂ’t move
and wearinglonguglypantswithshorthemsinthe wrongcolor and texture she remembersfeelingher
legsor a longbaggy denimfadedskirtwithgrease stainsthatonce neverfit hereyesaverteddowncast
she liftsthemupwithstrengthreclaimingandtryingagaintofinddignityagaininherdrooping
shouldershersuckedinbreathdeathlyherribcage collapsedwiththe terrorsof horrortorture and
embracesherself IEmbracedMyself (Jan14, 2016 | post#1)