Sunday, July 17, 2005

020


Why do we do the things we do? If I don’t get rich off of this, there is going to be trouble. Then, it is all done [(us, too), sometimes before that]. Most of us amuse, and entertain, ourselves. A lot of talking has to take place, before the marriage. Lives don’t match up to ideals (our ideals). It doesn’t mean anything, anymore. I don’t quite remember giving each other haircuts, just staying over there too long. Startled by the cat’s, meow. The whole shit smear, needs to be wiped (the political statement). The hummingbird is imitating a pigeon. The Hamilton stuff is old, too. The worms in the beans, is what caused them to jump. Lyin’, cheatin’, stealin’, killin’? She had me under a spell, called it flirting. They were only yellow beads. It’s take ten out, add twenty in, apparently. It won’t come back to me. We got as close as we could, to the old mental hospital grounds. Easy in there. Go with AM radios, but do without mornings (try to). Breaking up with her, was worse than getting killed. Nobody is freaking out enough, or even, at all. Once again, at the perfect time, we didn’t have our cameras with us. It’s hard to really accept, that you’re not good enough, for real. Other things, which we discussed. The highlights of our lives, are like a sixty second reel, of things we didn’t count on. The young stay away from the middle aged, instinctively. Man, I’m sweating, again. Look for what isn’t, here. Zen is overused (?). There is no end, in other words, I really fucked up! There is no “funny” in this canoe, tonight! I guess I thought that this would end up being “cool.” It didn’t. We we’re made for each other, and I missed it. Leave the children out of this! Buddy, you better lose your illusions, or else. Call it ambition, and forget it. I was trusted by the right people, but that was a long time ago. I got most of them (not so fast). How in the hell did I allow this to get so screwed up? Go on out there, and find the precious mulberry endings, of all of our days. He asked me if I had any outstanding warrants. Not in the mood? Beware the screams from the dead of night (real screams). Saturday traffic is heading towards the docks. Not to that degree or extent, but something went very wrong? There is a lot of skin, printed on paper, to get excited about. Man, you’ve been transcribing all day. According to the evidence, we’re getting too many kicks. We’re all too slow. Take out at once, that which must be removed! None of these pencils have erasers. As for the crutch to speed along my ruin… You’ve got to claw deep into there, corrupt it’s essence. There probably isn’t enough room to add that. What are we trying to do? Go to where the girls are all taller than you. I said it once, I’ll say it again, I will never stop smoking (check my obituary). Find the secret streets, off of the main one’s. It’ll be called the Aret¡ School, and they will try to stop it. Shit to this, that, and the other. I like a little peace and quiet, when I’m trying to defecate (damn you!). You’ll all figure it out, in your own good time, don’t pay any attention to me. The rich aren’t any prettier than the poor, they just think they are. With her, it was always like sleeping with an eight year old (um, uh…). See, I lack the courage of my convictions, just like you. Cut it up into four quadrents, but there is only one book here (warning). Sex with models, as if we were crazy (hand models). The acres have gone brown, ancient history, disrupts the whole affair. We need more mad houses, for those that hear the zen caused, schizophrenia bound, voices (just like L.S.D.). Writing is too slow, and takes away from living. I snapped, like the horny loser in the bowling alley. As a species, we spend too much time, celebrating. West Bend has changed. An overactive thyroid was the cause of it all. There better not be a fire over them. They will not let you know. Your agent can’t wipe your ass for you, just describe the curves, and bends. Yet another tragedy, will strike. You’d better be willing to do more than tolerate, ambiguity! Sound is uttered, fly into a rage, if need be. Get loose of the sins, the sexy feelings. It was not that difficult, digging the shit out of the ice. We all drop the ball, in our own good time. The network gave us all a chance to experience shame. They will sue you, with only the slightest provocation on your part. Where is the missing plum? They spend most of their time, wishing. You don’t know how to talk. So it isn’t worth shit, so what? Are any of us ready, for the truly terrible things, to come? They got to me, they’ll get to you, too. The kids charge into college, and are carried out. Most of us, will never have, “a life.” Grunt when you sit down. This clarity, couldn’t actually, be that. Shatter the worn out harmonica. The curtain is stuck. The underlying reality of what’s going on here, is being manipulated by a secret/sick society, that you don’t want to know about. End this nightmare, the agony. Are you looking forward to the last chapter, too? This is the terrifying bang, that I knew was coming. Will that be my premiere, with the jolly jet stream, all over the room? Here, coal to you, sticks and coal. Most of us feel that we’re more interesting than we are. You have deprived me of full consciousness. We must act, in spite of our exhaustion. It’s wicked, to toil like this for no reason/reward. Yoke yourselves up to the contraption! My colonostomy was a success. You are so, so swollen. Whine a way, in vain. Venture out on the town, wearing slacks.

Night came, and with it, creeps. Waste us? We want, don’t get. She had heart shaped, hair. Paint! The corrugated boxes, are there. The entire city, is abandoned. There is no next time. The bastards have control of us, to say the least, I feel the fear. Somebody else runs the store, people are in conflict, trouble, dire straits. All of the governor’s, crowded into the picture. Avoid all contact with them. You’re so sharp, sweetpea. The subtext is what blows my head off. I feel a little bit worse than miserable, the brain starts to go soft, and I can’t even get up to answer the door. The goal was to live, but we made a mistake. Leave the lord out of this, merge with Canada and Mexico. The “honey comb,” is a pussy. Herb ran the camera, his eyes looked blank. Some kind of mountain range, jets out in front of us. Some of us have never been loved, because we don’t want to be. The birdfeeder wasn’t designed for woodpeckers. The band aid, fell off (it takes a lot of quitting, to quit, once and for all). We’ve lost track of what was wisdom. Admire the dead, go into yet another zero tolerance back room. Use your skull, beg the embarrassed, get dirty, drunk, fat, stupid. Sink down the left side, blow your flute, keep your mouth shot. Rubber woman, did things with her arms. The vibe, was strong, our resolve, weak. Swing, like a microphone, stand in the room, smiling, and looking. Flake it off the end of it. Direct your attention to the snackbar. It’s just the smell of yeast. This is as bad as the rest of the shit, maybe worse. What we do to escape life, makes life worse. There is really no choice involved, is there? Dreaming of an audience, again? We underwent it, to get it, we’re in the store, it was not us. Accept nothing, shove the damn cogito. What we must do, is attempt! People grew tired of our antics, the critique was very informative. Slip into a new mode, too much depression, save me, papoose! Then, she began punching, and hitting. Stay fresh, go down a little lower, suffer a little more, you can feel it happening. Inside, there is nothing there, so much has happened, which amounts to zero. It may very well be time to stop recovering. We are the people who thought they were going to become famous. At the meeting on Tuesday, I may show my anger. Time for lodging, no more desire. In the galleria, she was so sexy. Clean out the barn (symbolically speaking). Someone chimed in, it is difficult to control, it is, indeed, self abuse. My little fairy stories, are not going to change anybody’s life. It’s like the hinges on the old door. This ceramic bowl is fit for tossing, at random. The cream cheese people, pushed me away, so, ultimately, juvenile. The dark molasses of the day, segues neatly. What we are trying to accomplish here, is some kind of greatest hits package. Although it may not seem like it, I have an awful lot to do. Rabbit parts were scattered all over the back porch. Eventually, there is no time to do the things you want to do. That’s not our sewage in the street, is it? Moan away, go out and get drunk, it’s like the gymnastics epidemic (really far out). It all got so oral/anal. He said he just couldn’t, “deal.” I’m still waiting (impossible). I am where I am, but I can’t quite seem to really believe it. I got old, and why did I do those things that I did? We’d better learn to live with it. I don’t care, anymore (at all). My inner lesbian, loved her, let this be a sampler, forgive me my sins. Our theories were in error. Call it what it is, foul and indecent. My face is revolving, revolting, I want to tell them that I’m sorry. It’s a pre-recorded slogan. We will never, figure it out.

019


Push beyond your own mind. Soon, there will be violence. All the bunting and ornamentation, was color coordinated. It’s all a bunch of tricks, to dull our senses. There is no safety or security, anywhere. It used to be a gas station. Now, I will respond. Opera doesn’t sound right, in English. Some booze was spilled (it never ends). Poke the log, with this specially designed poker. Just, be aware! The gears have switched, the coveted mug, was thrown through the glass block window. Remember Don’s hair, and airbrush the penis out. We’re on the hayride, to reduce the risk. Announce to the central business district, that you’re coming. I used to be miserable, then, I was fine, now, I am miserable again. I got the curse that keeps on cursin’. It isn’t just a feeling (no, not anymore). We suffer for our inadequacies, especially in this town. The front of the car was all smashed in, because it was designed wrong. Someone wrote maggots and faggots, on my folder. I drooled on the photo of the ninth grade basketball team, but then, wiped it off (girls). Forget those assholes with the haircuts. Pick the skinny girl first, in dodgeball (or, the other). They posed in front of the fuckin’ gas pump. I started dancing like a caretaker, after the laundry revolution, passed me by (um, gin?). A bunch of boring college assholes, ruined the disturbance, with their loud mouths. He called me a negress, I wore women’s figure skates, and went around and around the rink. They put me into some sort of jail, and the only thing there was to eat, was my own semen. The dickheads stormed the basilica, with flags. Well, I got really horny, and said something stupid (at the third annual derby). There is another Cleveland. I got wasted on the goddamn train, and got off by mistake, in some half ass town, ready to rock, I ended up spending a few confusing days in jail (county, unknown). If you can survive high school, Hollywood would be a damn cake walk, with consolation prizes. Morning is some kind of sour squeeze. Did I mention the bunghole lipgloss, and that one asshole? Everywhere I looked, reefers, high people, paranoia, sunshine. It’s all so flawless. I can’t remember if I had sex like, an animal, or with, an animal, in New Orleans. To sit on the dock, alone, with a head full of thoughts. My life, hurts. The hardest thing to do, is just be. They checked to see if I stole anything from their boathouse. The rich, are mostly asshole’s (around here). The coke whore slut, from the ghetto, is a sensation, now (guess who?). Another ride in your damn truck? Quiet down, Vermont head! It’s just… a bunch of meaningless statements. Sorry that I bore you. Nobody ever tried. Put that in past tense (the millennium). It was as if I was there, again (somehow). Several days of this, hasn’t led to that. None of the town clocks, work, they haven’t, in years. Go for architecture! Thank goodness, that all of the college girls saw through my surface charm. Sometimes, one word can make all the difference (but, not often). I can’t say that I’ve ever read anything quite like this, before. I’m just trying to tell you what’s happening. Go to the fat farm, then (what do you want me to do?)! Smell the air, come harvest time. It’s probably better, to be dead. Shock and disrupt, the innocent bystanders. We should’ve, could’ve, would’ve… every goddamn one of us. I never said that I knew (she did). These are our graves (cheers!). No more promotions. I like the rhythm of the way that the neon sign flashes into my room. It’ll slide down the drain. I never could get the math. Drunks shouldn’t gamble (all addictions are the same). I don’t fit in, mix well with others, I’m not a good communicator (read, freak). He (I) did it the old fashioned way (the way it used to be done). Agent Orange took care of the green, and the rest of us, as well. I’ve got to prove that this is the pudding (it is so easy to get it all wrong). We explored, ate out, made fools of ourselves (especially with the drinking). The party was too small. Don’t wave when you drive by, it brings back bad memories. I’m swell (ahem). She (they) know(s) how much I want her (them). The game is ridiculous. No, it most certainly will not, correct itself. Feel free to add in, or take away, at will. Some editor, somewhere, somehow, will fuck this book up, and ruin it, for you, the reader. Legs wrapped around, soft moans, up the scale, to shrieks, sputters and starts. It may be time to put another record on, this one is total hodge! You believed me (old, dumb joke). There were quite a few stores, out in the country. If you don’t do it now, when in the hell do you plan on doing it? He mumbled amidst a virtual crow symphony. It was some kind of celebration of the moon (indoors). Wound up tightly in woe, grief, shame, despair? I know that it seems stupid, it is. Height ratios, and the instant hard-on. Wiggle in and out of the truth box. Why did I write that they wouldn’t miss the beauty? No matter how hard you try, you probably, will. Figure out the, “not two.” The riddle is hidden in the poem.


Vomit into the rusty trash can, shoot out the windows of the old car, impart some nonsense, and leave quickly. She had unusual taste in stationary, they found her walking around in circles. We made the mistake of assuming that we were interesting. Carry the basket around with you. The reason that I tore out all my teeth was because I was picking up short wave radio signals, in a foreign language. In other news, St. Sorry, the twelfth century cannibal, was canonized today. The vertigo of presentiment, will make you orange, and deranged. Hark, for it will be made known to you, in a peculiar fashion. It was like driving through a chain link fence, and down into a ravine. Go back into the peep booth! Obscure it, put in some drug experiences. An alternate rendition was made (like a cheese). Nothing left to do, too much (everything) probability. A sexual sex, occurred, even the shadows, had shadows. The impossible, is all that’s beautiful. Thank you for your business, now, please, leave here. When you see a cross section of a tree, flutter. Hard or soft water/redemption? Listen to my excuse: the signs were a rich neon. Depression, is fallen right into. Smell the walls of the old school, hold up a great many tools. Some cars are dented, and I don’t know what to say. It was the same cabbie, there is no sex, there is no hue, no hot water, or luck. Piss in your pants, why walk way over there? The coo-coo clock went coo-coo! Think about her thighs, those assholes, beautiful sidestreets, the fight that broke out. Shoegaze, tentatively (I am no longer a real person). Manipulate, wildly (this is not possible, any longer). The furniture is functioning, the dishes will not wash themselves, the toy is broken, it doesn’t spin around, anymore. You seem to all act like one another. Please understand, it’s all random. The stumbling through the groves? For a laugh or two, leaf through the faculty booklet. Forget the fucking parade! Please, try to ignore my face. Like a true, and horrible decay, you are ruining my life. Plead for calm, try to spill, be melancholy, lose your nerve. Say something, for no reason. Flipped with a stick, I am a woman. Wonderful things occur, but not here. Stunned at the intersection, I turned the microphone on. Hey, Athena (you go, girl). It’s like soil erosion (help us), it’s a postmodern, slide down. It’s like a guy with a foot fetish, at a turkey trot. His guts came out of his mouth. I feel like the four hundred pound man. Your breath, will be taken from you. We were born too late, born for the needle, heading for divorce, hell bent on destruction, love, tile floors. The lure seems so irresistible. Each one of those motels, have their own character. It seems to me that nothing is ever really over. Now, some uncharacteristic hitting. Be ambivalent, sleazy, ape-like, enlightened. The pool incident (and other things to stop remembering). Try to go further than I did. They clamor, I float, lick the like, out of Suzy. The chafing dishes were picked up exactly on time. I accuse you, I accuse you! Scatter the shattered. She spit in my ear. I just like to like to look at it, think about it, not actually, do it. This is the impossible, made manifest, right before your eyes. I’ll fail, mark my words! Do you remember that one guy, place, thing? If it ever happens, I won’t be around. It’s sort of comical, how impossible it all ends up being. String up some lights, to mortify the neighbors. I only thought that I was thinking! Don’t you understand? It’s all about money! Ticking time bombs, go off (watch out)! I don’t have a firm point, that I want to make. I kept resisting the urge, then, finally, one day, I just gave in! I set myself up for one doozy of a fall. Samuel Ellis, I stole your purple pencil! She used to quietly quilt, for hours. If we don’t purchase, we don’t exist (to them). Reach for what’s out of reach, like the motor oil. We don’t know what we want! The golf course was full of idiots. Part one in the series, was called, “The Hole.” It seemed really important to me, though, you know? It’s just, plain, impossible. Even my stool sample, was unacceptable. The nurse looked at me as if I were crazy. Some, succeed too easily (it seems). How did I miss all of these mistakes the other five times that I edited this? I can no longer afford to keep doing this. Someday, I’ll be gone, and someone else will waste their life, writing books (which are never even read). Like an itch you can’t scratch, we’ll be there. My collapse, was total. Why did I leave out the part about Watervliet? We just might make it (don’t count on it, though). You’ve got to be able to fit through the hatch. The stars turned into airplanes, which were after us. I screw up too much, or too often. My “wild years,” were followed by asterisks. We’re all just a little bit indecisive (maybe). Bodies at rest, annoyed us. Hide it, underneath this. We disappointed mercy, with our entanglements, and sleep schedules. I vomited blood into the freshly fallen snow. Inside the locket, a picture of a dead person. Bellow it out, like in the old days. Nothing that feels good, will last (refer to Buddha’s list). Who rang the ding-dong? Go for a flush and fill.


The wetlands, are flooded (wastelands, Westland). The rose bushes just weren’t able to adapt to the climate changes. Assume that everything’s in place (uh-oh). It just has to stop, end, whatever. Fink us, like sex on demand. Don’t try to buffalo me! I guess this how it will all end. We decided to be vulgar, to get attention. How can it be, after all of this? Is it that, this, is the only place to be, that’s real? I must’ve just, sort of, decided, to lose my mind. I was afraid to swing the bat, like punching in a dream. He claimed to have the whole collection. Pay attention to the things you can’t have. She must have forgotten to save it. I got drunk, loud, obnoxious. All we end up doing, is sleeping. It’s my version of the Bible, it fell short. This is how to stand. We had no idea, we still don’t. Buy a diamond ring, for little Delia Rose. My life will never begin, it seems. If you’re not crazy, you are one of them. Honest to goodness, what are we going to do? They are all so pleased with themselves, over there. Some of us, don’t mind being left behind. You can do without e-mail. Something else, about something else… This is where I belong. Sometimes, the stars just fall right out of the sky. Everybody is an asshole, or worse (simplification)! You’ve got to stop playing with plastic tits, in the basement. Refuse to leave your house, to hell with it all! Parched, perched, poached? My sex partner (pillow), just fell down to the ground. We’re not unhappy, life makes us this way. Opium mouth, took care of us. Hollow out the gourds, look back. Beware teenagers (frenzy). One of the best films, was Highland Park Skank. Dozing into slumber, in the middle of the day. Concepts, very fuzzy. Slap the hell out of him, at the Oasis. We don’t have a theme song. Laughter, is from terror, horror, worse. I want to stop caring, obsessing. They say that you can’t get rich, writing (oops). The truth is, that I can’t read. Maine evokes a feeling, a real feeling (total)! This was going to be beyond all limits. They won’t let you, “change things.” By now, my mind is completely gone. As for my real life, nothing ever happened. There is no, “secret song.” Go on, and swing, like an old kite, stuck high up in a tree. From time to time, we want to be upset. We can’t hide our excitement, and if it’s excitement we want, we head to the craft store! We work, at nothing, for nothing (really). Some group, or society of some kind, will denounce me, ban the book, and all that other shit. They know what I don’t. Question just about everything. It’s a racket, and a trap (avoid such things). You’ll never know who’s fault it was. Give us the final come-uppance. I thought I was a genius, I am the (ham man) opposite. In the end, this isn’t even all that creative. Nobody is ever home. I did the same thing last time, and the time before, ad infinitum. I know who I am, this, I want to be someone, or something, else. After all the rest of it, they’ll spell your name wrong. Every page is like an accident! I broke all the rules, did it my own way, as they say, to my own peril. Why did I scratch that itch? Everything is false, including that. I just wanted my life to mean something. The second half is the exciting part. There isn’t a hell of a lot to write about, anymore. All the straights, will turn gay! It’s not always in red. Oh, the Cabaret Artaud! I’m trying to shread this into some kind of substance. Imagine that the pan was hanging on the wall. Sediment will collect in the bottom of the pool. Offend as many people as you can, get them all riled up! Can’t handle the autonomy? Bull and bear, guns, butter (here we go). I zig-zagged, for some time. You can’t do, what you did before. I decided not to save anything for, “next time.” It’s as simple as sabotage. This was supposed to be the final, published version. You’ve gotta’ write your own ticket, Smiley. Just the mere glimpse of a bikini, gets my sausage, active. A lot of everything (not all), was included. This was going to be a good thing, for a lot of people, it wound up being a very bad thing, for only one. Now, my farts come out of my mouth. Who’s the invalid, invalid? The heat affects my neck. Oh, sure, I guess it was fun, for awhile. It’s just the cognitive dissonance theory, at work. Let’s get it right! We just don’t know what to do. Here we are, just leaving. There are a lot of repetitions. There are a lot of repetitions. I used to imagine that one day, I’d have a life (well, nothing doing). He knew all of the queer wrestling moves! Why should we have a damn, show? Basically, the hospital for the insane, hurt my feelings. We have nothing to do.
We’re laying pipe, now. One last double check, and I’m gone (it’s taken way too many years). Describe the defeat, the love you stood in line for. Don’t take it out on your genitalia. We like to watch, not engage in any kind, or sort, of Katmandu. Well, the book thing, fell through. We want real lives, not this shit that we have, at present. To me, a woman’s foot, is like an inside out vagina, and way more thrilling, exciting. The computer ate it all. I’m starting to show some symptoms. You are all afraid of your own selves. I guess we all must secretly, want someone to tell us what to do, how to live, etc. Wade through it, like butter. There is a weasel in the moon. It just never happened for me, and probably, never will. Tollway fears, and the missing hopscotch box. Someone said something, about evil. My madness became something I could no longer rationalize, handle, or control. I work on this damn thing, all day, every day. Tools need to be used. They won’t be skimming through this, at the ladies bookclub. Then, another day. Everybody in the computer lab, looked dead, to me. I am a River Phoenix, sort of. This is too (picture yourself, alive) unconventional, nobody will buy it. There will only (bloom, Dilly) be more pain. No more adventure, or excitement, ever. If I’m going to put something beautiful in here, this is my last chance. Why did we even build these structures? Did you see the are, bend? Does it seem like a long time, to you? What could have been, is always better than what would have happened. I am the Wizard of Nod, and this is my needle strewn, and broken vodka bottle strewn, road to nowhere. Lauren, baby, where are you? Things change, sure, but not for the better. You were so rude to me, in the dream. It still needs so much fixing. She had such freshness, such wholesomeness. Flop down over by the mildewed tent, in sorrow. Well, it isn’t exactly what it was supposed to be. Swing a big fist, into a soft, fleshy, face. I’ve learned, but it took so long. If you don’t believe what they believe, they are not going to like you. The anger and fear, are scattered here and there, ma’am. It was some sort of wild assed, AM radio broadcast. There is a trail through the forest, that I’d like to tell you about. You press down too hard with the pencil. Not too many of us, will ever amount to anything. At first, you’ll be afraid to start, and then later, to stop. Lemon oil was used, to clean the place, top to bottom. Cover the spread, taunt a hi-low driver, smile, slap a mailman. What’s the big deal, anyway? They started to hate me, at about the time that I was finally able to stand them. Milla and I, did some twisted shit? What do you remember (this is a pick up line)? That’s all you get, for acting so silly. Why have I done, what I’ve done? Go on down to the basement, they’re waiting for you. The best way to go, is straight through. We all had our chances, in the kiosks. Help me, please (drill it, drill it). Well, which one is the puppeteer? We’re too poor to buy a second television. She used to wear a half of a heart, around her neck, nobody really knew why. The dressing table was out in the yard. She said she’d play the game of being my wife (what?). Of course, I’d been drinking, back then, there was an awful lot of drinking. We’re all dying, each of us, in our own, unique, ways. A makeshift parade, was staged. The politicians will continue to do nothing, except talk, do not be surprised. They want me to stand trial, I can’t even stand up! The deluge stopped me, cold. Mirrors, fields, full of crops, we’re trying to get it right, once and for all. See, one side must match the other. Where is the meat of this? A lot of things contributed to my overall insanity. At some point in our lives, all of us, could have been one of those asshole guests, on one of those t.v. talk shows. They play a lot of ping-pong, over there. Try some subliminal messages. Launch in, like a benevolent despot, buy a souvenir. This is the fling into the bakery pans, that I was fearing. Fold the rags, in a certain, prescribed, way. We’re not exactly sure, are we? Be against most everything. He was really high, on some kind of inhalant. It takes up way too much of my time (this). I said that wasn’t the way it was, but, it was. Do what the cadaver, did. We know what was in the pail, man! They deliver packages here, late at night. It’ll never be the way that I want it to be. Zinc, like the farm animals? I guess that I forgot how to climb. I’m looking ahead, foolishly. After all of this, what have I really done? Most people don’t think about death, quite as often, as myself. Why do I continue to do the things that I do, and nothing else, when none of these, are working? All you need, is a hardware store. Pull out some panties, and sniff ‘em. Scary, is all there is.

018

You can never get sick of the unique beauty of a tree. Snobs of leisure, working on their serves. Id, to ego, through Christ (?), and back again. He couldn’t get his head out of her ass. We bob futilely, like fruits in the water/Halloween eve. The small service bungalow, was silent. He tried to light a cigarette, but couldn’t, just couldn’t. Right now, we’re extremely empty/blank, but just you, wait… “Is it a fire?,” she asked, stupidly. Stay away from psychopath’s. Basically, we cannot have what we want (it’s just… there are no possibilities).. The one I loved is married, now (not to me). There is a pallor of sheer horror, hanging over me. Someday, you’ll see what I meant. I am in no way, like you. Find the recipe. They know what you did! Fiddle with a figlet. I want to be forgiven, before it’s too late (don’t be a queer). We’re going to discuss the passion, right now. Rub olive oil on all your private parts. Shall we discuss Jesus Christ, and his circus of the stars? It was just another killer, wearing rubber gloves. The only thing she could think of, in such a state, was sex. You’d better not act all hot shot, after this. But, what does intercourse, feel like? Half the damn class raised their hands. Take your easy answers, and shove them. The myth is transversing me, wholly. Flopping and floundering gets old, real fast. Surrender to God? Never! It all stinks, like an overturned locker room. It’ll hit you, nail you, wreck you, ruin you (this)! See: million, one in a… where are the greek festival storyboards? Small towns, cross sections, broad spectrums… Homecoming (for the homeless). Sieve it on, downward. Remain infatuated, do not “go for it.” This’ll be the one (just watch). Kalamazoo melted away into nothing. It’s just like the preamble. Drunk on the train (so much guilt). Visible tension, no release, we don’t hold on tightly enough. Drown in the Bible, with all the other miserable fuck’s. We went from keen to screwy, quick. Be leery (very). Raid a balloon factory, take souveniers. Ingrid, in the background (no clue). Perhaps, we are determined by our preferences. Examples abound, as to that. Wipe my ass, with your face (they ran from the room after that one). Harm was done, by all that learning that we underwent. The sun is coming up over the chicken store, again. My immaturity is very unfashionable. You may have written yourself, off (indeed). The rag was used. Reveal and expose, the secrets. Eggshell walking, Egyptian themed parties, milk the two way horsey ride. We’re in the debris. Plop down, invent a meaning, make it up. The fist (TKO). To just, sort of, round things out a little bit, I came around the bend. These are the cruelty fairgrounds. We’ll fuck it up, after the big break. Smell your own car. Are you a meat, or vegetable? Be open to interpretation. Paint only the smearing. Man-boy, in the womens shoes! The dress also fit? Some being, with a penis and a vagina, came out of the bushes, and ran into that grove of spruce tree’s. Take hold of it, now. Get a little bit greasy. I approximate Egypt. The United States will be Communist, within fifty years. I’ll prove to those SOB’s, that I can do more than sit in a swivel chair for minimum wage. So much hope (so damn foolish). The mind does not exist. The leader was a scientist (what kind?). Get the knack of it, and you’re in the money (but it doesn’t quite work out that way). We were then harmed, both physically, and psychicly. Here comes winter, yet again (an intangible depression). Whatever you do, make it be splendid? This has meaning, this means something (in relation to, the tank). She only likes (mates with) her own kind, and that kind, are the right. Drowning in some cosmic bullshit, but still lookin’ ‘em in the eye. The down’s are more noticeable/notable, than the up’s. I swear, that all he ever said was, “won’t somebody please, help me?” The moaning in the old folk’s home, used to keep her up at night. She was itsy bitsy, svelte and sexy. Why don’t we just decide to get high, and forget? It was the emotional math (no, no, I never quit drinking), that set us off on the wrong foot. He went and poisoned my mind. There is just something about (try to accept) her, I think that I love her. No, I told him I didn’t want to see his, “prison pussy.” Ah, it ain’t the way it used to be, and so on. As far as I know, they are all dead (you’ve gotta’ humor ‘em). That’s why I twinkle (I can’t tell them apart). Whatever it is/was, it stopped the flow. All this, just from going to the taco stand? Do you know the symbolism of the self? We aren’t fittin’ to sit up in there (we’re sick of it). You took up too much time, energy, etc. There is nothing that we can do about it. Well, it finally happened. Try rocking, a little bit harder. And it was the largest open faced clock in the world. I’d like my life a great deal, if it were otherwise. These are the rumors, so far. There was a transformation. She was a self mutilator (for real). Stick it in, there! I am the mule’s wounds. Hippies, no longer screw. The little fish, they swam away. It’s a result of very weak hands (grip strength). My mid 90’s trouble, proved the depth of my selfishness. It was right across the street from us, but I don’t think we ever noticed it. That’s a long way to drive, for a hamburger. She ended up on Park Street, so I’m told. The hummingbird got caught inside of her pink panties, out on the clothesline. Then, I got sick. Everyone asked the same questions. Your wizardry is just silliness, stop being silly, man. I sniffed the wrong kind of inhalants (I’m rushing/I’m Russian!) As far as I know, we all used to walk around the open air, pedestrian mall… Smoosh down some magazines, and catalogs (smell some shoes).

017


We had high hopes, long ago. Those who will do anything, wind up doing, well, nothing. Every single one of us will fail. Let that be a lesson to you (one you’ll never forget). Blame it on somebody else. Crushed jewels, worthless now. She wasn’t quite at the so and so. I’m so damn white, that I bowl. Time to awaken! Something fell out of the tree, perhaps the moon. They want, and will take, what you have. We know what is, and what isn’t. Electricity is very rarely, surprising. No abuse, not today (someone damaged the television). I squeeled like a cornered monkey, during the brawl. Ask yourselves how you got through it, before. Well, I did pull some Lazarus act, but that was a long time ago. I’m gonna’ cum on your face (no handkerchief). I scratched it out of my head. Kill an asshole, rush up to it, smash and hit at the supermarket, tour the abandoned homes. They do shit in the park (late at night). Wink at the van, seclude the symphony, come out from behind the curtain, with your hands up, fall through. I constructed a helmet, the bells rang all throughout the campus, the statues got scared, somebody spoke to me. Send some gifts, an award for the sum of all your ambition. You’re gonna’ get into some trouble. They say that my life will never happen. I’m not “losing it,” dead reader. Spit in the wind, yell in the theater, hang out at the bus depot, get called names. All the boring people congregated, saw the fly in the ointment, the cherries get picked, the cars get washed, and the cans get recycled. Do the suave bend, over. I don’t agree with myself, it isn’t really funny. Do not let the light deceive you. Cross off all of your (we took it all for granted) conversion experiences. The order and regularity that we perceive, is for, and in, most all senses and purposes, a myth, or series of myths, lies, false fronts and appearances. Our tears fell, in vain. The human brain doesn’t always work correctly, at our peril. With yoga-like calm, we endure. Crash the ramp, smash the lamp, do other things. The abnormal, becomes normal (now, the philosopher). It’s in my hair (alive), it is as if it were pulsating. I suppose you could consider this to be an outline. The weather will change, after it rains on your parade. Write another forward. Change your tune, buy from the Mennonite’s, babble incoherently, be objective with yourself. I can’t go through this, again (must make it work). Collapse, like an old box. The cat batted the door all the way open, watched it swing on it’s hinges. Concede defeat. It must be some crazy, “Midwest curse.” So much does, and will, get lost in translation. To be splattered all over the pavement, is all being, is. The car is going off, in unusual directions. That act might yet take place. Sometimes, a person’s radar breaks, or malfunctions, in some way. This doesn’t fit in with the other’s on the list (what list?). Are these the missing pages? The catastrophe, again. A fat poem, for a skinny loser. Go for deep penetration. We followed the north star, to our peril. It’s down to cheater pamphlets and used magazines, now. We act before (you need a black bedspread) a blue screen. We won’t make it that far ($$). There is nothing there, at all, really (the internet). Flake off, just like the rest of them. Alienation is what clouds your mind, like cheap drugs (we’re also, very aware of the side effects). That flit, wrestles? Stand in line. Your pants are missing. We dig for nothing. Run out to the barn and check on the horses. Enjoy the chanre sore we call, life (to the fullest), or, endure it. I want to squeeze you, every which way, but loose (squirt my manhood on your tits). Go ahead, hate them. Where we’re not welcome, we shouldn’t go. The denial hurts, what we want, won’t happen. I promised myself that I wouldn’t become what I did. Who are these people that are infecting our landscape? Her games were sexual, in nature. In spite of our knowledge, we know nothing. When in doubt, don’t. Inevitibility (the new gestalt). Try to stay alive, baby. This must be the sickness that has been coming on. Stranger people than I, have done this. Today, swimming pools, tomorrow, jail. Monks in the waxworks! Adultery feels so good. Bodies will continue to be found. What I need, most of all, is a personality. You will be yourself. Read it in the original French. The onion seemed to glow, like an orb. We’re all better off, alone. The beauty of this world, is in the shadow of the ugliness (but, it’s there). Own a piece of ass? Car stub #180-213. A mild shock to the system, nothing more. Get all up and in there, with the oil, nearby. Jesus was her best imaginary friend. Things are strange/strained. We’re all phonies, and we know it. Our memories get faulty, which we must guard against. Overnight, it shit in a hole. No more “things in quotes.” Running into the back of the truck, will put an end to all of this. The detour was a trick. Inexplicable as it is, who cares? A piss and a smile, she said. I can’t get organized. A little event just occurred. Blow the horn! Something has given me horrible gas (psst, don’t tell). Take a walk out to the barbeque pit, with assistance. The all-out rage, is surfacing, again. I’m getting the chills, the “creepy kind.” Wear your best shoes. They know what I don’t. Skim through it, it’s ridiculous. Who we are, doesn’t fucking matter. This is a bottom half glass, stare. Why did you fall down the stairs? The mirror experiments, caused permanent damage.


I’m all crooked, brains are slow to recover. Sometimes, I hear many things, simultaneously. Please, let this be a start on the next one. Leave the blank side of the postcard, out of this. Convert a pagan, uh, a pigeon. All of my attempts at humor, fail. The irony of my fall was, I guess, that I saw it coming. It’s like a car crash (the soundtrack). I was a little bit insane, back then. Use a dark pen. Such subtle hues, discolor our dispositions. This is a slow pull around the block on the shame wagon. So, she went a runnin’, and I went a chasin’. Too many buses, with squeeling brakes. My hair is missing. Make yourselves feel, rock out, cleverly. Like flowers, shall we wilt? Flat out fuckin’, in the “cooling tent.” There is no plan B, after this, I’m totally out of options. The penis will go limp, for what goes up, must come down. We must save Ralph (he’s in the kitchen). Fabulous and fantastic, typical and commonplace. Feel the aura of it, we’re on the dock, we complain, you used to be us. Oh, that’s her, that’s her. Let your life collapse, over next to mine. He’s probably still pounding on that damn chair. At that point, you lost all control. No more hot fudge sundaes, for us. Where is that gorgeous little sister of yours, with the tits? We don’t get what we want. The sandcastles have all been washed away. Our “instruments,” are ruined. Turn on the spit spigot, you bled into my sink (hymenal blood). Sopped, licked, sucked, stroked? In the fields, at attention. In and around the root cellar, popping cherries for a living. All of it, is shit. Don’t stall now, chubby. My religion is/involves, raunchy pornography. When will you learn to be careful? You teased me, you harmed me, the faggy flittiness, may be wearing thin, but you used and abused me. Remember waxy’s airport band. I’m falling to pieces (it’s just as well). We don’t care that we need new wiper blades, at all. Brittle mussel’s, awash. The past is the present. What is your real name? Stress, and alcohol. There was another life, that we wanted to lead. Did I mention that I wanted to be her? Go on out there, and dig up the buried bones, hang ‘em up on a nail, like driftwood. I can’t get over this depression. Sound a horn, some kind of alarm! He is totally wasted (yet, trying not to appear being, so). Dinner with the Dictaphone, yet again. What a name for a band. The man in the moon is special to me, smiling down. I squeezed her buttocks, she didn’t like that. Even if you’re not human, you can breathe. They tell each other secrets. News will reach you (that you don’t want to know). The scattered have already split off from the main drag. She was darling, she was prancing. All the needle marks, should’ve given him a hint. Stroke you down, so, so even. The plan egged me. Lost, in an endless series of subdivisions. The other exit, was open. The territory has been marked fully, with my saliva, I want to mount you. You could hear the typhoon over the telephone lines. Death is the end of dying, and then some. Soon, it will collapse, and we can help rebuild. We are trying to do, to be. It starts out subtle, and gets worse. We have no real reasons to live. There is no magic, there (oops). No long range plan, or any sort of plan at all, has been made. Rumors were spread, to the point where we couldn’t show our faces. They used to make me write about my new puppy, and shit. We all have a few good times. The bus used to stop directly in front of the prison. You’ve got to do this right. Six months later, I was gone. When you want black pants or red beads, there aren’t any. They want to keep us loathing, looking, and waiting. Published by thirty (or else). You’re all just nuts. It takes too long, to walk. New optical styles, every year. Here, even the bowling alleys, are new and improved. Tell me what it smelled like! The next time, you will be ready. What was I thinking (predicament)? What I don’t want to admit, is that I’m incredibly lazy/happy. Despair is in the genes, however. I can’t stand all these girls, with painted on pants! Every thought isn’t worth writing down. The professor asked me how far along I was, as if I were pregnant, which I guess, in a way, I am. It’s important to me (and very little, is). Spread out the dischord and dissonance, so that everybody gets their fair share. This is the kind of thing that can happen to you, if you’re shy in high school. We don’t really know what we’re doing. They were on the country club circuit, even then. I think I’m getting sick, now, in a final kind of way. There are a lot of bottlecaps scattered around here. Are you absolutely certain? Watch what you say, here. The phonelines are down (I love you, baby). I meant to write about the cuffs of my pants. There have been a lot of kids, driving over lawns, as of late. It might be time to move on, now. Isn’t that great (I’m going to jail, despite my “entrapment defense”)? Oh, that’s just not right! There she blows, all over my only suit. Ecstacy in the passenger seat, I guess. That was moody (try it with a capital M). We can endure (isn’t that what we’ve been doing all along, anyhow?)! The dream was of me, doing a striptease for my middle school teachers, with that body. Fix what needs fixing, Frank (even if it takes you the rest of your life). I rub against the Heron, all the time (accidentally). Well, nothing will change, we can take some solace in that, I guess. You’re free, but you’d better know what the fuck that means, beyond responsibility. Don’t let the dead turn you on, too much. The things that are supposed to make us drool, don’t, eventually. We end up finding out what we really are. I’d rather it if things were kept dull. We all get to stare up at the sky, until it gets wind of it. What is it, first this, and then, the other? Boring out holes, all that is, inconclusive.

016


Things have a tendency to overlap. The hot wax dried slowly, in her belly button. Somewhere along the line, I started thinking the wrong thoughts. Nothing is simple/easy. I resisted for as long as I could. Blankets and meat rubs, signs and oceans; we are the last to be able to tell. As a defense, I became very dull and boring. The hat is under the piano. What is all of this? This is what idleness, feels like. I could think up more things to write down, but, why? They kicked me out of the charity event. Flutter, like they do. I fucked Margaret, like she was somebody else, entirely. Let’s wait and see, where I end up. They are only interested in the bottom line, they are only in it, for themselves. Snake me, shame me, slime me (thank you). They used to like to stand around the room. This is what we are going to do… This is the worst stage of them all (like the smell of burning steel wool). Slide into the radio. We might just hate the rich and famous. Up fourteen, back to zero (or, losing ground). All of this mischief, for no good reason. This is from before all the rest of it. We are wrong, too often. All they ever seemed to do, was “get baked.” Vittle, you better skittle! Think too much, about last year’s county fair. Try to bounce, more softly. It’s almost as if I inhaled something, out of a can. We gave it a proper burial, out by the rusted out, lawn mower. There was some sort of problem, with the paragraphs. He could buy the salon, now. Trot out to the garden party, without any clothes on. I, like it, they, will not! Then, the breathing stopped (party’s over). The coffee went down the sink drain, like blood. It’s like Radio Free Nebraska (almost). Do we live, or just exist? Wood, has the power to talk to me! They made it into a huge video store! There are certain feelings, in some places, not others. I created a new beginning, middle, and end, but they won’t be implemented. Amir, was a mirror, of a certain type. Clang along, this is the oily section. The foundry is what the foundry is, not so, with us. In the middle of the dance floor, was an old, broken down, lawn mower. This is a sharp cut, into my dullness. Sick of the cunt/money/rubber chase, all I want, is out. People seem to be aware that I am a man in a great deal of trouble. I’ve learned not to, want to. We showed up (la, de, da). Begin the begun, finish it. They want you to be very tired. Keep away from the railing. The secrets, are going to continue to be kept from the likes of us. I did some strange things to her, with a spoon. Seven years, and out. You won’t catch me singing any hymns. Repress a free spirit, boycott all those bastards. There are no keys in my possession, to unlock any of these mysteries. My skills are a little rusty (I never had any skills). It don’t matter, no how… It’s as if we were gay (monstrous, boiled, enthusiastic, wicked, charmed). Don’t you start acting like a fairy, again! The brain fever, holds us all back. The family of mechanized plush toys, all seemed to march in unison. You went too far, and blew it… The caramel is inside my ass. The fresh air, corrupts us. Spin out of their range. Things remain a little bit too constant. Many died last year, more will die this year. Clap your way to better health. So, say you? At the end of the day, it’s just not good enough. Nothing quite like this exists, for a good reason. Just make sure that you snap, in the right way. You’ll be put into the grave, just like the rest of us. Have some sex, don’t just wait to die (so solemn). Scope out the lust objects, be unable to resist. I won the Yugoslavian Young Poets Prize, 1987. Soon, I will be even less. My porno novel was rejected by 69 publishers (I left it at that). I gave up on life, but, for some reason, it didn’t give up on me. When he wants to be homosexual, he becomes homosexual. She probably hasn’t even started yet. It doesn’t get any easier. You’ll see, if you look (which you must). I guess he got his hair cut in our version of Soho. We do what we shouldn’t, and ignore what’s got to get done. This is what it’s like to be drunk, for too damn long. There were no last words, there usually aren’t. Light out into the night, armed. She wasn’t singing loud enough, it seemed. What drives us crazy the most, is not being able to be ourselves. Move around a lot, the show is over. Fill up the empty spaces with words, and forget it. You ruined me, financially. It is not yet fashionable to be this way, whichever way this, is. We can’t help missing the way things used to be. Infected with gangrene, these wounds aren’t going to heal. There was some peculiarity in regards where the props were placed. We’re watched, they know about the XXX movies. The new wave vingettes are forgotten, forgettable. We can never grasp the whole of it. Sitting there, is no better than sitting here. The sentences are for the most part, insane. I forgot all about George. I’ve lost my ability to truly love, entirely. We must all help ourselves. Whatever it is, it’s very strong. It’s like a gift that you’ve never received. Over and over, “parking, two dollars.” Survival, is impossible. More, cannot be made of this. Eliminate all pleasure from your lives.


Get a gigantic, plexiglass apple. You are becoming some kind of Mr. Celery, person. Those were my shirts, ruined and stained, on your laundry line. I could twist it off, or flick a switch. We flourish and wither, the marvelous, is elsewhere. For myself, the miracle of being, faded away a long time ago, but I was glad to see it go. Quit touching yourself by looking at high school yearbooks. I was a loser, on some psychic mind type, cruise control, and I just got through it. I saw them running into the garage, only the bold would stare this weirdo down. Abstract your fear, and ignorance, into money making opportunities. It was just like a supermarket, they were ex-baseball coaches, in drag. Sex is not quite, real. Every bill comes due. Mentor, this! Out asshole, the assholes (play the game). This may not have any value, but neither does that. Mumble into the hereafter, cold and aloof, lucky to even be there. The clitoris chronology, was one person’s journey through hell. This is the wrong kind of chewing, wobble out, as if drunk, to where the oak tree used to be. The most boring people, appear to be the most exciting. We even tried aerobics, nothing worked. My hospital stay was brief, but everybody knew about it. I sustained some injuries, and couldn’t even get into the damn barrel. They used to get high and just stare at the beads and needlework, for hours. They only used to give me jobs that I wouldn’t screw up. I puked down into the bleachers, people pretended not to see. Get those goddamn caroler’s, out of the bushes. They did what they were supposed to, some of us, didn’t. I used the comb, in ways that are illegal. Now, you see it, then, you didn’t. He was riding around on the luggage thing, at the airport. Squeeze out an orgasm! There are going to be a lot of people, who you just won’t like (and, who won’t like you). Most of us, just aren’t going to make it. Sign into your blank foolishness. They used to come in and check on me, I was a walking, goddamn disaster. Some things, you never live down. I meant for it to be, more. Reminisce, until you cringe. It’s about being very tired. No hope, no will, no feeling, no nothing. Life will school you, aplenty. Longing to be able to see straight, again. Rock on, motherfuckers. It’s all so lame, contrived, we should’ve stayed in Waukesha. My body is on my soul, crooked, baby, set me straight. Try to predict cause and effect. I’ll sour the room, when I darken your door (some party). Sit on your hands and play with yourselves. Oedipus fucked Electra. No, I’m not losing control, honey, it’s lost. Where is Jessica going? Yeah, I thought I was going to be an astronaut, too. My hatred supersedes me, possesses me. The strip joint hard on’s, get soft, fast. Be a blip on somebody’s radar. Ignore the Sabbath, fuck Beth, don’t accept what happens, have guilt and regrets, say something wrong. This is like reading some mental patients diary, I’m sure. The fish market is busy, it’s the cause of the mayhem. Bring on the metal, the heft is perplexing. Dive head first, into the ditch full of water, lie to the medical examiner. The truth will destroy us all. Every other town, a legion hall, but not this one. Man, I can’t even naturally swing my own arms. Ignore ontology, or else. I dread, at forty one years of age. You are my wife, I want your body (only). It may very well be in upwards of a thousand pages. Make manifest your ruin. Think it over. We’re addicted to the things that we don’t know we’re addicted to. What will we do? We don’t think. Tuesday bit me on the balls, one can only imagine what Sunday, will do. These gargantuan difficulties of late, can’t just be gotten over. Total terror causes a different kind of orgasm. Decisions were undone. We work too hard, for too little reward. Don’t play in the street, kitty. So, we repeat ourselves. It is time to die (but not just yet). Not a smile for weeks, nor a word to say. Rise to the occasion, as the days flit, by unconsciously. It’s still not good enough. Last year was yellow, this year is green. I cannot go with you, tomorrow. Shuffle papers. A few mistakes were made during manic phases. You’re not going to tell me who I can fuck. The sounds went in reverse, then, disappeared. There used to be more. You did what you did, to me. Look at what they did to her! I felt my own womanly tits. In he whose lines and thunder, are stolen? People we don’t even know, are haunting us. I can’t account for the last couple of years. Feel the terror of being. To say the least, it’s extremely boring. Take out his eyes. The cheese was finely sliced. I know of all the horrible things that you have done. It’s a real, live horse (it’s lame). Pay very close attention. The stiffness seems to be getting worse. How can we still care? We’re devoured, as you know. We used to be more impressionable. I’ve long since worn out my welcome. The goal must be to help people. I’ll be your mincement. It gets to be too much. A little joy can offset some of the sadness. Make yourselves free. We were lucky to make it home at all, that night. My mind is as gone as the rest of me. A year can be like that, as opposed to this. Children will continue to be born. It’s taking over. Always with the lonely ride home. Maybe they are reading my mind in the wrong way. He didn’t feel the least bit strange. For a long time, I was afraid. It’s hard for me to believe that she isn’t in the other room. It was/is, copyright infringement. A different life for living, has got to come around sometime. Oh, the humanity (lost). I ran my fingers through my hair. I ended up, prematurely. Too much talk of love. The pen dries up, it’s over. Talons tore into my soft flesh. At least I don’t have to worry about seeing cardboard cut-outs of myself, in those stores that sell balloons. There isn’t much we can do about it. AC/DC?
Where is our baby-boo-boo? What comes out of our heads is unstoppable. Today is tomorrow, twice removed. Try to do what you can’t. Is there some psychic around? Vittle, no. Hugs were inappropriate. Apparently, she didn’t need any help. We’re back at the Hi-Lo Bar. Too much dioxen, or something. Let it come out later. They are all wasted. Keep it decent (it’s like secret saccharin). Know the backhoe, totally. I howled out, “evil.” Every day, it gets worse. I can’t stand being poor, anymore. All my plans are in with the dust. I don’t care for it (this thing, life). Shut the asshole, up (glue it). Shatter the flavor of the month pendant. It must be in the same key (no idea, what this means). Do want, cut it, ouyt… Go over there, with some pants on. Put that thing about the worm back in. Plenty of room. Everything seems fine, on the surface of things. To be frank, fuck Broadway! Celibately, drive onward. Our secrets are always obvious to others. This country is a country to flee from. Wash it out, shake it off, forget it. You’ll confound the rest of it. We did the Baja California, foolishness. Max and Eugene met Thomas Merton. Nobody was home. Someone said she lived on Fairfax. The pavement made me stare at it, blushing. The book is about not living up to your potential. Cheap as a pixel, as intoxicating as champagne. Don’t put up with their shit. I need some good transitional paragraphs. The forms don’t match up with reality. Rig up an apparatus. He tries to make love to his sisters stuffed animals. My criminal record has become quietly, quite extensive. It isn’t about acorns. Totally broke (again), doing cartwheels, can’t take a hint. They were looking at her. Go get Santa. Our prayers say a lot about us. Flip the tape over (symbolically speaking). I stormed off, in the wrong direction. There are a lot of ways your life could go, from here. Agony, is being prolonged. Meet Al. It led up to it’s apex. I’ll see her again, someday. Flip through the notebook. This is sort of like the “surprise,” in the chocolate egg. I don’t want to write about asparagus. Nothing but constant arguments. It was like the last leukemia kiss. Vivaldi will have to wait until after the break. The double talk was radial, indiscriminate. Try to prove it (anything). I did all of this, because I know that there isn’t going to be a next time. Thursday was devoted to thinking about swans on the lake. In the peanut fields, things take on a different shade, or hue. He did a wonderful square dance. Look for my third book, The Book of Souls, in bookstores, this August. The vultures know when you’re really dead. Fall freely into the pitch. They won’t miss us. I could feel my life being taken from me. Who broke the toilet? There isn’t enough room! All I want, is her. The infinite loops take a long time to get through. Meaning is no such thing. Moaning could be heard from the basement. Idiot face (urinating). On our lovers haunches; ibid, pp232. I wound up being unusable. Know who in the fuck you are. Our fertility was called into question. We would have been perfect for one another. It’s trademarked. Go into the former, with gusto! Back into the house, she went. You are pompous, belligerant. A broken phonograph, that only plays records backwards. Look for a future (good luck). Come (um)! You could smell the incense all the way down the driveway. Be who you are, nobody else. A mule kicked my head off. Get into it, whatever it is. The sky is not really blue. It couldn’t be… The blood clots, and stops the bleeding, eventually. It isn’t really true, nothing is. A smattering of applause. It all goes to sod. Madness can drive you wild. What are we, fools? It’s so induced. Torture is so much like sex. We need incentives. Chance laughter, chalk outlines, senseless, unspoken rules. Pretty, pretty. This isn’t going to work. The odds were never in our favor. You’ll see me, there. We were going to make techno albums with those horrible shrieks. If you let them, they’ll… I have to get out of this head, and into another. It’s the same thing on the other side. The silence of death is overwhelming. We’re only acquainted with our own ideas. It’s dragonfly’s, and cold steel coils, now. Be more disciplined in your writing. Florida, the penis. When our wills become like sieves, the whole world is unveiled. They did it in the car. Standing room only, at the gladiator pit, tonight. Try something taboo! Use a wrench, Bubba. The average person, is average. Is it up to us, the ideas that we have? Don’t forget Alaska. Will you awaken? She got her hair done. There was poop in there? Have you found the inner, other? Whatever happened to that selfish bastard? We’re not capable of certainty. No more stripping. Nothing is binding. A couple of years (pigeon eggs). The lips were parted, ever so slightly. Put the womans clothing on. We were all crazy. It looked like a coat hanger (it was). Our insignificance is what drives us on. I can’t take another bad year. When the termites reach my spinal column (we’ll fuck). What I said would happen, happened. Do you know the secrets of the skies? I’d rather that, but I’ll take this. The world, in itself, is a figure! The oar in water appears to be bent. It may be finished. We’re groovin’, with new dice. It was a lucky turn for the worse. There was a serious attempt made on my life. The flowers communicated their conciousness to me. Give us an opa!

015


Yes, I did get a ticket, over there. I’m at a definite standstill (what about it?). What I’ve got to do, is write more. Say bye-bye, next time. Fuck ‘em all. There is something wrong (long faces, phases) with me, I don’t know, or care, what it is. I starved myself, rather than eat in the cafeteria. Hurt me during sex, babycakes. This has to be perfect (and it won’t be). Being alone isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. It’s off the marquee! When I close my eyes, I can still smell her, sometimes. We need more good pulls. Submit to submission. Excited to go out, full of verve, and expectation. How do young girls get so much of this kind of knowledge, so early? Little Yellow Fish, has been postponed. It’s what we know, not what we think, that makes all the difference? I thought that we would, but we never did. What is the point of writing down half of this shit? I tried to update and improve this, to no avail. Renege on all the marvelous things that you did. Man, all I ever did there, was drive around. It’s something that I can’t find. Don’t rage into anger. They came in the door, too quickly. It’s waving in and out of my conciousness. Who the hell lived there? The burden of being a sinner, encumbers me, down. It’s beginning to deteriorate, now. It’s been ages, since I looked at the old photos. Who will win the coveted Aristotle award? We’re all involved, now. They stopped talking about all the other hot chicks, when they got girlfriends. Don’t sit around waiting for inspiration, or anything. The crows are flying by, directly over the house. Even though I can’t do this, I’m doing it. Go surreal, don’t pause. Go back to 4-10-96, and do it over again. It must have all been storing up. It’ll kill me, as it kills me. The commissary (be the best, or don’t bother) has been cleaned. Its your chance, to win. Beautiful smiles, crooked teeth. Get to the “oh yeah’s.” Put (what is this?) some inside jokes, into the book. I don’t wave, or honk to the panda, anymore. It begins and ends, with nothing. Re-tool, rebuild, reload, release. My new sportcoat, is too small. Some amongst us, will never be able to get enough (or any, at all). Scratch both sides, rougher. We have love/hate relationships, with the neighborhood cats. I’ve become the fat and smelly man in the fast food restaurant, restroom. Howl! The town council is full of scapegoats and middlemen. His goal was to hurt people. The graffiti had to do with starch, and pigs who could swim. The Preston union, ended in revolt. As for the hot pussy, with tender petals, juxtapose that with women with their cold slots, slopes, and shoots. I don’t know what I’m thinking, or doing. Our needs were in conflict with straight edge, Ian’s. You could have cured me, but then I wouldn’t have written a book (thank you). Brush the eraser dust off the rough draft. My nymphomania became kleptomania. Let us proclaim the mystery of paste. Oh, I said all the wrong things. I want my old life back. We burned some shit, out next to the house. I never received a personality. Brace yourself, gird your loins. I’ve got to try a little harder (not this fried chicken talk). Get a real good look (oh, she’s got it). Transvestism is like the mirror hot dog. I’ve got to get up there, and install the weathervane! Don’t let them make you into a “positive thinking advocate,” they’ll all try. He was shitting behind a tree (that weird guy, who walks around). Pacifier, weaning, none of us are “cool.” See, I didn’t get the job, but I didn’t want it, either. Speaking of tree’s, they creak like my joints. Should I write more about my “into the woods,” ideas? Nose’s, fit for pickin’. Smell the sulphur of what’s past (busty). The best advice is always free. Do her like you would have done her, had you had the chance! I like you (look out). Put (set) up her picture, on your pillow. Three tree’s, strangulated to death by thick vines. It won’t do you any good in there (get on a roll). She/he, became the other. Slut/nympho, sharpened knives, hair sticking out. Now that I’m dying, all I want to do, is live (not surprisingly). Leave some mac and cheese. All I do, is blow little things from the sides of everybody’s lives, out of proportion. I dug a hole! Truck stop love/speed, got him going, to where he had to get. They’ll be checking up on you. The Polis in the springtime, flower’s blooming in the garden, the fresh scent of real air, and fertilizer. We’re down to the butt’s in the ashtrays, again. We visited a town, instinctively (but, which one was it?). I’m not paying some dickhead ten percent, for any reason. There is a rusty beer can in the milkbox (only). Nothing changes along the highway. We all rely on luck, and know that it’s unreliable. I got a lot, but not all! You don’t want to do what you’re doing, do you? Remember the good one’s (or try to). Go for the tattoo parlor, to hell with all of this! People have invaded what used to be the country, no more peace and quiet. My lies are becoming more harmful, to myself, and others. For the benefit of who I’ve forgotten/taken for granted, a song… The undecided never do decide. This is so boring, this writing business. Put in a new tape. When I look at my worst, I feel at my best. Stop ruining all the business cards, by writing all over them. I don’t like comedies, or “dramas” (so tender), either (in quotes). Don’t even worry, it doesn’t matter. What does he want now, a guarantee? Well the bagels were stale, but none of us seemed to mind. There isn’t time to read, much less, write!


There are still quite a few to go (oh, boy). All that I’ve forgotten, will haunt me, forever. It’ll take all you have, and then some. Be intrigued, yes, it’ll make you a little bit crazy. Don’t go back there, just because they gave you free gum. They make them into fish tanks. There are a lot of words, that are not in this book (that should be). It’s just too damn safe, around here. The days flit by, like single cell drawings in old fashioned cartoons. What it feels like, is a glaucoma. This is not sexy. It’s only there, when you’re sitting down, and writing it. We’ve experienced enough pain, shame, horror, desecration. Oh, hot coal! Real bad repeats, shamed me. Wait! They are getting a lot bigger, and taller. I pretended to vomit, in front of her house (good first impressions, count). That dance you performed, was highly inappropriate. Chew really slowly. Oprah, the Amazon’s, or the dot com people; will not endorse this book. Don’t you think she gets a little bit bored, waiting for him to get out of the bathroom, all the time? Well, it wasn’t a pleasure, but it wasn’t a burden, either. Youth, in Asia (euthanasia). Just keep working, something is bound to happen, sometime. We’d better think fast. The bad advice helps more than the merely, good. Where is the center? The greenhouse was just magical. Leave Wall Street, for good. You were high at rehearsal. This will be your final warning. By junior year, I was successfully snuffed/weeded, out. Take a picture, take a bow, check the meter. Connections, or corrections? I was a weird kid, now I’m a weird man. The trendy go to those soapshops. Patent pending (what a difference it makes). Don’t make me wallow here, in shame. There was another thing, that was even cooler. Oh, I want her (unavailable). There ain’t nothing, now. We need to go back to work (fuck no). Test pattern maybe’s, seem to appear. Is it early, or is it late? Clank it into shape, crank it out. They don’t even try to hide it, anymore. It’s smaller than bonsai. Rose must have cleaned up. There was cum, in a plastic bag, taped to the refrigerator. You know what it takes, now, do it. It gets to be too much. The hysterical laughter disgusts me. Danger, there was a guy on the roof across the alley. You heard what he said. Light the room. We went into the tabernacle (we weren’t allowed to). Divine fruits, strange dreams. The book took (final tally) six years to write, and there is nothing here, nothing at all. Those were the times for those kinds of things (then). I can’t deal with this anymore, I no longer give a fuck. Uh-huh? It’s the same, every place that you go. It doesn’t compute (this). It’s good to know how to iron. Maybe happiness, is all this truly is. We have too much freedom (none). Baby and teen stores. Ignorant, suspicious, left out, consumed, controlled. He’s looking for a party in St. Clair Shores. Some guy had a nervous breakdown. We’re all on trial for our ambivalence. Why was I (am I) such a dork? It said, market. We’re almost there, anyway. Feel the night, like a warm pair of balls. That’s pretty much, the whole song. It’s best to spread it out, but there is no goddamn time! I thought it was a typo, but it wasn’t. Mildew and aftershave, floor wax and sawdust, fresh paint and real soap. Be honest now, tell me straight out. Imagine the smells they left, in those rooms. Why did I take the picture in the frame, into the bathroom with me? It all gets harder to live down. By all means, be! Don’t allow it to continue, marry Ann. “Just not right,” is what they used to say about me. Linguine, or lingere? The thoughts of a sex fiend would seem unclear to you (nothing can be done for us). Why did I complain about what I used to complain about? He lived across the way. Laura Elizabeth, will you marry me? You’ve got to know where and how, to look. Our way, is foolishness. Perhaps I’m the character in the stories, now (highly fucking unlikely). They were all my sisters, but I was, um, dirty. The information packet that I received, was not particularly, “informative.” Man, we don’t need your “saving of the souls.” The house just can’t seem to be kept clean. So much is missing, that it’s not funny. They react with violence, if you refuse to remove your coat. We didn’t count on so many tongue exercises. Stay away from… well, everyone. Well, it’s as gourmet as it gets. He played by the prison homo rules. The bitch of the devil, always asks for it. The answer won’t be found. Blue quilt, with pink flowers. Groan into some semblance of shape. It’s better to starve, than to wind up like this. My out, will have to do with my insecurities (and the facts). Try it totally naked (it makes a big difference). They were (are) better. Was that a look of fear I thought I saw in those eyes? Grin at the fuckhead’s, make out with a tree. Wrench out a loop. There are a couple of double meanings in here, but not a lot. It all fell apart, and I was so excited. We’re depressed, amongst other things. Find it, like a hide and seek, look see. Reverse, just reverse it, please. The significance of all this, is in question. I have to fail as an author, first. We need to conserve. What the cabaret needs, is an old department store. You wouldn’t believe half the shit I’ve done (nothing out of the ordinary). There is no clear cut, structure. That was supposed to be there. The birds have all gone to sleep (who knows where?). Sex is better, solo. People lie, and a whole lot worse. I gave Gerta the bird, back there. I watched him chew the book. They destroy us, for no good reason.


The pageant is over, the travesty has just begun. The light hit the barn, just so (this is some solemn, amber light thing). The reeds swayed gently in the wind (we do find that we’re abandoned). There is no solution. Shave the hair in your ass, with these hi-tech laser treatments. What happened, happened. The table, versus that duty/obligation. I thought I was smart, see, I wasn’t. The stylist tried to make me look hip, which was a big mistake. It will all be brought out into the open. Have a hook, angle, or gimmick (word up). We live our lives, for the most part, as if we were already dead. Hubris had it’s hold on me, it’s aret¡, now. They said that the marble would come out in her poop. It’s as if I’m living somebody else’s life. Whatever I had, is most assuredly, gone. Too much was piled too high, and it all fell over. I do not exist (not that it matters). Too far gone for any sort of redemption. I can’t even imagine trying to explain myself, anymore. Explain, predict, control (all we can do anymore, is sleep). There are just as many mistakes this time. An animal was somehow involved. She had a bit of a fixation on bird’s. How can I even begin to explain my behavior? I want to prove you all wrong, in the right way. Put a towel under that thing, pull the handle, spill the beans, remove the dildo, I’ll get the broom out. We got very quiet, all of the sudden. Play tricks on your perspective. Alcohol is only the trigger, we are the one’s who pull it. Professor, do something, this isn’t working! My brain was melting, while the bed was dissolving, someone was talking, in the other room. I’m warning you bastards, publish me. Repine, recline, move the chair, and vacuum. We used to do some really weird things, long ago. This is not really my life, it can’t be. The barber pole will spin around, enhanced by special effects, and the very latest in sound technology. Permanent damage, is being caused, we never did figure it out. It’s a good thing the acting stage is over with. Wing it, badly, write on the index cards. It was a disaster (my life). Be kind of boring; so cold, so tired, so lonely (but, what are you, really?). You can read it as a tragedy, or a comedy. I want to do the right thing (no I don’t, or I’d do it). I guess I just want to do nothing, all day long. Stay away from juggler’s, they’re dangerous. I tore my pants again, I just can’t take it, anymore. We have got to start thinking in color. What sort of food is this, hippo? It’s like piss in the snow. Get down the Chinese lantern. This is what it must be like, to be excommunicated. They have squished in, faces! What we do, is look for mistakes. The champagne, caused me to act silly at the benefit concert. Leap year blew my gasket, made me ask for more. We paint, we’re bored. Destruction is always traumatic. We can work wonders, with lighting. Don’t bother to explain yourself. I only see in black and white (no shades of grey). I remember when… If I don’t get rich, I will be poor, there is no in-between. We don’t have, or want, a theme song (if I die, I die). Use your lips, sucker. It was her, and I didn’t mouth the words. My dandruff falls out of my hair, and forms an intricate pattern, on my shoulders. I should’ve taken up acting, painting, as opposed to this. A single rap, on the back door. The device is missing. Comb through the nets, for suffrage. They will forgive me, forget me. Who is going to sit around, and read? The little, green ape’s, came. We’ve got, “the shame.” They know, I have no idea, how. The landslide, made us sour. These are my shortcomings, for all to see. The odds of my ever being published, are very slim, indeed. I’m going to walk out of here, alive. Like little leaves, we shake in the breeze (thoughtless). The next real end, unknown. It takes to long, it’s too much work… We pondered aesthetics, wisdom, etc. I can’t really imagine myself, being a different way (I simply will not “make it”). I am to have no further contact with her, in any way. I even smell like (get over it) fear, shock, disorganization. All of the women were Macedonian, meaning that they were, “good to go.” You saw what we saw, but you didn’t see the same thing. Wish that you were elsewhere (stop it). You’ve got to imagine that it was really happening. I’m even weirder in person, please don’t expect much. See, we’re not going to get what we want. Every single person (generalization) in the United States, is fucked up, royally! I insisted on doing too many things, that were very harmful. Our lives are not our own, because we let them, have them. Don’t tell them a thing, they’ll use it against you. We’re goin’ to a palm readin’ (yee-haw)! Fight like a sissy, right there in front of the abandoned hotel/motel. Beer, bond-o, rage, scratching, marijuana, rusty cars…

014


Learn to spell, and punctuate, properly (note to self). We would rather worry about death, than life, in other words, money. Try something wonderful. We fell for it…again. In the throes of an epileptic fit, I documented the third parties absense. Was it a girl? The festival was ruined. This one, will be eaten, too. The right hair, is a long way off. You are almost there, continue. There was no now, then. I like the death threats, they show that I’m doing something right. It’s like the serenity prayer. Find the scissors. We’d like to try being dead, but be able to turn back into what we are. Be psychology/philosophy. I spill on myself, constantly. The Rickman changed ownership. Just about everything in my life is out of control (always). They poured beer on my grave (in the future). It was embarrassing to read my writing in front of the class. They build incredible and elaborate starships out of tin foil, and toilet paper rolls. It was a conspiracy, but I didn’t mind. He’ll never stop drinking. Too much of the same old thing. To him, all of that, just happened. It’s only a hull, that’s all that’s left. She told me not to keep living around here. Six becomes two. There are no laws, really. He fell down on the dance floor, and did not move. Go to where the pussy is. Waltz into the mist, like Ebenezer. It’s just like last time. We have the same cause(s). I really should’ve studied harder in math. Please don’t tell me what to do, anymore. With the dog in a stroller, I set out for downtown. Yeah, I’m more than half done, but what does it matter? We wanted a blowout, with drugs, call girls, the works. Who’s gay? I’m not going to let it happen, that way. Other people used to ask, and find things out, over there. They played volleyball, just two doors away! I know for a fact that I’m not going to get rich selling vitamins, for you. It’s my real name, asshole. Nobody misses “great literature” (double meaning). Did I already mention how sick I was of these cheap, fucking cigarettes? Twenty three, becomes thirty one, when no one is looking. We’re sick and tired of that. Such a wide variety of bagels. Hungry for wet snatch, we acted latin. Sabotage has already been attempted so many times, that it doesn’t matter. The temptress couldn’t dance, and her underwear didn’t fit. It was a dream of a particular part of town. It just won’t do, it needs a shot in the arm, of something. It was manic precision. We listen to the wrong shit, wear the wrong clothes… Be everywhere, become tumolt, become naked, at once. Try to call up, toe-tits (disconnected). There is a burning beneath me, no more humor. Dinky got a nip and tuck. Your company is nothing more than a thinly disguised vanity press. Zero returns, high rates and fees, greed, secrecy. We asked for sales figures! I was in that, somewhere. It was a noise band. I worked very hard for my frantic insanity. If it weren’t for the glad hands given, how would we have known? You’re gonna’ have a flavor? What did they do during prohibition? We’re being difficult, just to be it. No, they only seemed to be in their underwear. Stabilize the howling chaos, out there. Get a job, selling office furniture. The map was as meaningful as buying tires. It was like a superstar porn party, for a month (total). We walked down abandoned industrial roads. Whatever it was, it was old. All of the industry, left! They add up pretty quick. The dead frog effect. Blow me. Hopefully, by next year at this time, I’ll be rich and famous. It could go either way (oh, dear). Join the nurses! I’m going to forget the garbage (again). We got pretty bitter, when we quit smoking. I want, more than anything, to see the historical records. Will was worried about Hillary. I’m as tired as you are. So? It will pulse for a few days, yet. Hang on for luck (to the barbed wire). Nobody thought to move it. There weren’t as many people, why would there be more? People are constantly offending me, and I’m powerless to fight back. All I can think about, is Kalamazoo (after years of never, thinking about it). We just don’t have the time, or energy, anymore (multiply this by millions). Register the shiney. They keep tearing things down. The publishing company assholes, pissed in my face. No more damn, “baby talk.” More election year, nonsense… They were right about me. We visited a hardware store (three dumbshits in a car). There were better places. It was a restaurant, upstairs. I don’t know what Henry Miller has to do with this, or my life, anymore. It changes everything (or tries to). They weren’t warehouses, they were vacant buildings. My mechanism is useless. You had to have money to live there (that’s a lie). That hippo must have shit in the kiddie pool. Watch who’s picture you keep in your wallet. Goddamn Saginaw! Hoot like an owl, you remember. Oh, they took all the farms away. They stole the seats out of the car. I made the newspapers, with that little incident. I smoke more than ever, last time, and put it back in, again. Form an asparagus alliance. They rented out rooms. Honk at a fool (we know not, what we’re doing).
I refuse fame, I flat out, will not accept it. You went and had kids? Deal with the deficit. Don’t you know that you’re needed at home? I never listened to a word they said. She went along with everything she did (you must remember everything). It would’ve been so easy (always past tense). The agenda, always (anarchy again). Let’s make an Ann Arbor trip, Birdie. You’ve got to live (why?)! There was a particular smell in the vicinity around the chemical company. Somehow, I know exactly where it was. We get little chuckles, here and there. You’ve got to be one, of the one in a million’s. There was a fire, very late at night. All of our hobbies, dispersed, as if to/by, the wind. What else? This is a short one. They didn’t seem to like the lost. Out the windows, we’d leap. Obsession, all the time, for as far back as I can recall. I’m gonna’ seduce you by falling down in your kitchen. You gotta’ pound that dent out on the side. They had a pretty clean house. Everything she wrote, was stellar. Don’t be a bitch! We contemplated the oak counter, reading material. This is still around, isn’t it? Someone said that they saw me there. Now, my cheeks are like a chipmunks. Don’t worry what other people think of you, ever again. I liked looking old, until it happened. We did a little too much investigating, and not enough studying. Shovel, with your gloves on. What else is gone forever, from the middle of this? I dare you to eat the chocolate car. Every step, at the right time (how to get up the stairs). We attempted to whistle, the whole way through. I have got to find out, at all costs. What did it used to be like, around there? Scratch the mysterious bump. It’s all got to be changed. Oh, grimace. It puts me to sleep, consistently, this. Writing? You’ll get dizzy, too (Lucretious). My reflection appeared to be oiled. Oh, they had gasoline. They wouldn’t put a dime into the stores. Are you (you’re not)? Listen to the squeel. Oh, Chicago. The nature of things, unknown. She gave head, freely, and very well. We assumed that we’d meet again (falsely). It’s poison. Keith wasn’t there, either. I’m in the trailer, due to circumstances beyond my control. Drink the milk that comes out of her tits, while it still does. Hot box fuckin’, for everybody, always. Into the clover, to find a four leaf. I tired to think of it as home, but it was impossible. The tricks, didn’t work. All the things we did, were never done at the right time. Everything takes too long. There was a community, I just didn’t see it. A lot of people still used clotheslines. No fees, not here. You must have known more than anybody. It’s grey hair and partial thoughts, from now on. No commas before the parentheses. There wasn’t much of anything, was there? I used to smoke everywhere. Clean up, fill the bird feeder, chase the raccoon’s from the garbage. I am a dork, my lips are swollen. Rub the stroke through, to the end. Too many repetitions, dot the landscape, that is, this book. I don’t ever want to work anywhere, ever again! I drank my own urine, out of that vase (broken). We only like to have sex alone, by ourselves. Try to feel a lot sadder. Chalk it up to experience. The only friends I’ve ever had, have been government agents, investigating me. Le’ts get something done. Stop being delicate, nothing can be, ultimately, understood. Let’s see, am I going to “behave” this evening? What’s that on the end of your pencil. Then, I lost my keys in the graveyard. Despite us, there it is. It’s never the way you think it was gonna’ be. Oh, that beautiful wooden chair. It will never end (at least we know). The book had puke all over it (Immanuel Kant). We got into another scenario. It was all a bunch of code talk, about paths, and patterns. Death is the way it is, no, we’ll never get used to it. He had another excruciating attack, or fit. I wasn’t praying in the restaurant. Bug boy and “baby,” moan on, in stereo. The house is an ash can grey, but those beautiful wood floors… Do you like to see people being hurt, and humiliated? Eight! I don’t know how he did it, but he did. They make me think I’m drunk, when I’m not even drinking (the rooming house bitches). Is this a crutch, is it all bullshit? It’s already becoming undone. We’re depraved, unusual, tight, fresh, etc. As for high school memories, don’t bother. You’ll lose your dreams, too. Don’t fuss, now. The joy of editing, is a subtle one (just throw the words down). We’ll take you right to the hospital. Are you committing crimes, on your days off? This predates that, it just came to mind. Blitz a duodenum (never). Chuck was nuts, nothing else. I think we used to get drunk, too often. On the wrong side, every single time. It’s an old fashioned, round up! You never think not to put it in. Read the inner workings of tree’s, determine their ages. Help me! It something, something, something. Dare I mix up the old, with the new? Fame is like those masks that they put on crazy people, who bite. It was a department store! He choked to death on his own semen. Call it an awakening! They’ll document your fall from grace, too. Surmise a sample answer. By now, I should have more of a grasp. The two girls were exactly the same (twins). I can’t stop writing, no matter how hard I try, it’s like a train off the rails. It smells like a church, around here. Act your way out of the paper bag. Don’t mention the brand names of the toys. There was something about something else, in here. I picked up the twigs one day. The bugs became confetti. Factor in the fractions, you son of a bitch! You lied to me (why am I shocked by this?)! What should be our next step? Go to the ice cream social (high).

013

It’s just like it used to be. The book is in tatters, but it means something. How good did it feel, to do what you done? Sprawl out, inconsistently. That’s the whole deal. People continue to fuck, and piss. It’s constant mayhem. Meet a girl at the mall. Feel the fear, and run home to your mother. Bring it all down. Take her name out, at once. Piss there, in the vortex. It’s like cartoons! Slip more in here. It’s all been tried. Relieved? He still gets high (on skuzzy days). Grunt, until the table does your bidding. Lloyd, whats going on? Smash all of your restraints. Tested, the clock ticks so loudly. Bust out, or rust out. Misspell a few? A notebook full of somebody else’s masturbation ideas. Who is conditioning who? Melt into life, like cheese into a taco. Proclaim the mystery, you’ve got to jazz this up. All the best lines are gone, or missing. We want to look good, dead. I can’t see! Hooey for the stars, I rode my bike on the railroad tracks. See, it’s how well it fits in with everyone else. Twist it, or else. Was it stilts, or slits? Be like they are/were. Face your true, inner self. Do it the old fashioned way. I’m telling you, it’s a disaster. Nothing but naysayer’s, doom and gloom. You are the old dean. I’m not going to make it, Ellie. Insist on satisfaction, satiation, and so on. I said/admitted, that it was a…well, it’s sort of random. The rind, encompasses us. People still die in elevators. It’s like blubber. The doomed and damned, destroyed, like fodder. Oh, my gosh (what I’ve forgotten). What will happen here? It will be different (guaranteed). Wait’ll you read my next one. No, you don’t need to give it a day to “sink in.” Help me, darling. Go back into the closet. They checked my license. There used to be such wonderful surprises. Describe the dancing (later). You hurt my feelings. I was a mark, seen as stupid, an easy victim. Promiscuity (more!). It was a man, in women’s clothing. Yeah, something was definitely different. Don’t defile her memory, with this. It’s back to monopolies, again. This is why there are only fourteen new pages! He isn’t going to stop over here. Spurt what, where? We used to play on the roof. Oh, Imogene, I’m tired. Hold on, it gets even weirder. This is all that matters (sometimes). There are so many more important things to do, than live. The most religious people are in prison. Pray for me, seek the white buffalo. The view from the West Main bedroom window, was expansive. No more abuse! I mean, you just need to know what you’re doing. It’s all too pervy (too many sixteen year old girls). He tried too hard (who?). It’s the same empty promises, and pointless advice. What is this? There has got to be a way. What isn’t, in here? Yeah, what am I waiting for? Take that body (are you crazy?)! They are just ordinary, family noises. This book is a laxative, and a sleeping pill. The pipperoo girl, is in the asylum, now. Expect fish, you’ll get some. The ceiling will come down. Send away for a kite. It’s higher octaves, and speed limits, that we’re after now. Stay out of one another’s business, period. Remember the catechism of (?)! Oh, dear me. It is today, you are you. Same melody, different song. Sequins were banned! There is no page sixty-eight! Like a yell from the backyard… Get a clean copy up and running. We’re getting into the thick of it, now. The newer version, actually improved things. We will only get what we want, by doing it our own way. The doors were opening and closing. It’s all up hill, from here. The eraser will be gone in a matter of minutes. The whole deal is being offered. Static and energy, are required. Once again, with the eyelash in my eye. No second chances! Justice will find it’s way to you. The college spit him out, like a warm wad. How can it be? Toe gazing, simple functions. It’s about being sick. Life goes on, despite our opinions of it. Five dollars is no sooner forthcoming, than five cents. The man is stumbling through the park. These blanks aren’t filled. Put the tape there. I’m an ornery, old asshole, I’m not needed where I want to be. Take me back to the sand pits. Leave before the ambulance gets there. Feel the deep hurting. Move your finger, whatever, but actually do something. Too much cheddar, equals fat head. And if I die, before I wake, I’m sure a bloody mess, I’ll make. Drinking too much is a real bad sign, of something else. Flesh out your characters. Do it, with lesbians. Hindu’s know about the pancreas. They used subliminal messages, on me. It seemed as if I was in a room full of skulls (on West Cedar). She knows how plain, and boring, I am. Escape somehow, just get away. They are wine shop people, always one step away from you. Something is wrong with me. The water (the backwater). Three dismensional sexpots, working in department stores. Eyes will be opened, as legs are/were. Insinuate something about the rich. This book is controversial enough, leave that part about her, out. Anger is so pleasing, so sexual. My spelling went, that-a-way. One, two, seven… It’s all up to you, and you’ve known that for a long time. Everything has been figured out, nothing is going to change. My hair is infested with insect larvae. Mosh pit citations, torn up and thrown into the bonfire. Don’t you dare withhold my medication from me. The ghetto awaits me, patiently. Download now? Light beer, will get you just as fat. They were there. Looking at Redwoods, thinking about significance. We will suffer in silence, alone. All these secrets… It’s dedicated to… Critique yourselves. The ax was sharpened. It will remain the way that it is. Ah, I ain’t making any efforts (for it). Let us just, feel it. Images, with beautiful breasts, float through the very air, itself. Swimming through the bedroom, someone got annoyed. The beginning of the movie? The punks hid up on that hill. Everybody was (and is) scared of one another. Her ass was like a pear, so I ate it. Every town has a new part, and an old one. We sold womens shoes, size eleven and up, only. What is the word (?). Sleep in the car, close the fridge. Sunlight shoots us through the head. Don’t let me into your garage, ever. Be your loose teeth. It builds up to a subtle creschendo. Blame me, I probably had something to do with it. Stop “sleep walking,” now. The faithless will have their shovels, to dig all the graves for the good, righteous people. Let’s complete this, and go away. Weightless sex, and floating. It feels like being decimated.



The sounds were of people eating. I hate short stories. He asked for more pussy, as if it were ice cream. This will never sell. There were candle smells and fireworks, for a while. No security, ever. The good shit is lost and forgotten, as usual. I’ve got weird tastes. It was zebra mussel breakfasts, for years. Avoid the cascading frying pan. What made me think of them, now? It’s the perfect music for the mood. After all is said and done… Don’t make me be myself. Go with the purple hair. This is the dumb part. Cut to the chase, always. It isn’t all that interesting. It was a charade/masquerade, they used persuasion on us. Save it, this. Bathroom fear, goes away. Sometimes, the best thing to do, is nothing, but not very often. Remember to forget, when, and where, appropriate. A few stitches were thrown, not nearly enough. Rutabaga causes all kinds of trouble. It used to be the neighborhood grocery store. There is no method, now, behave! This is the way it is. The library is in an inverted “L” shape. Wisdom is what you receive, at your most foolish. Even the ceiling fan, wants to speak with me (but not one person). You’ve got to hold your pen differently, to survive in this age. Look at the arteries, running down her neck. The wind disrupts us, everything does. You thought too much, out by the shopping carts. Talk to the bottles, it sounds like racquetball. Bring it up a few notches, get monastic, to hell with this. Too much, has gone too wrong. They may try to “block” the publication of this book, like a punt, or some such bullshit, that they’d rather… We have got the fear. Feed the pets, flake the dandruff, off. To wake up with a sudden, terrified start, and be quite unable to scream. It’ll only come out in paperback, to save you some money, and give me less. There is nothing else that I can do, I, and everybody else, knows this. I’ll be lucky as hell, just to break even. I denied what I had done. We used to stand and stare at one another, like a couple of cows in a field. The very “voice inside my head,” would appear to want me dead. Start writing, despite all that. The only real reason that I write at all, is to deny my own death. Looking into a bowl of water, in some attic bedroom? The phone call, did not go well. It’s drugs and death, or what, pray tell? Big business killed that town, long before it left. The wording was off. Be like the troubled bunny, piss out of your ass. The ice in the rink, has been thawed out. They sing in a foreign language, to annoy us. The deadline looms, what works? We’re all being mishandled. Everybody’s bedtime, must be nine o’clock. They placed the pumpkins, just so. Get lubed up, for action. This seminar is for you, the powerless, the terrified. Ah, there’s nothing like pregnancy, to destroy a relationship. The image has been magnified. Fink on one another. Avoid external circumstances, do not have an ass, get linear, sit in the diner, all alone. The fall through the plate glass window was staged, dig? All the good stuff is torn down, to make room for “progress.” Do not do anything against the law, ever! They’ll grow up, eventually. Time goes by, too quickly (bye). Too much sitting around! Get the damn idea. (lay into it, heavy). People don’t want to know one another. A boom, or a bane? As we speak, it’s all canceling out (open a can of peaches). We had our daycare innuendo, thank you. Beware corrosive metals. We’re leashed, and guided. Some people, never recover. The former nature center? Do you know what is wrong with you? In a drunken stupor, I did what I did. They used you. The more you admit, the less is truly admitted. Stay away from the damn liquor store. Some of us, want to feel bad. Spare change rests under my feet (for now). I even worked in a porno shop, for a while. Let there be evidence. What is the point? Practice your scales! Things have gotten quite bad. Jane spelled out intellectual chaos. Don’t leave a note. Dissolve into a slow fade, like the rest of them. This is Edmund’s book, now. My cross is heavier than yours, is (lie). Our policy is a long standing one. Isn’t it all a lie? I read about her bouts with depression. Don’t try to hide it, anymore. I’m running out of ideas. My best isn’t good enough. Make up for lost time, before it’s too late. They brought that little fucker, over. It’s a cutthroat industry, sharpen your knives. The odds of any of us getting any help, are slim. Haven’t we given up enough? My writing is careless. K (for what?). It’s too pointless to be pointless, at this point. Surrealism/existentialism, philosophy/psychology. We wanted to swim, but never did. They kept them up in a cage. Nobody wants to slip down the steep embankment. You’ll wind up stranded in the woods, like the rest of us. Resign from everything. Due to the deathbed, I sought help. A maelstrom of discursive thoughts, assaulted. He photographed his bare ass on the copy machine. Deal with your issues, immediately. Another civil emergency order given; ce’st la vie. Forsake these confounded fears. We all think we’re something we’re not. The chocolate animals are covered with tinfoil. They gave me the standard Hollywood diagnosis, meaning, of course, no. Consume dirt, real, antiquated dirt. These are issues. Try to tune out the inteference. Steal my ideas. Being wasted never stopped them from driving. My fears, are not real. It still isn’t long enough. My hopes and dreams, have long since, just, gone away. She had me actually fill out a portion. Writing is like the pigeon’s, pecking at their disks. No more buffet special. Keep your hands out of my pants, self. Strive for a more good and saintly form, of Satanism. The human condition has been described and disseminated, dissected, and floated in. The goofball kids don’t know what to do, or how to spell it. The easy part is getting there, the tough part, is making it through.
So many years of spatulas and game shows. Mirror that one child’s will to live. I hear you making love up there. Gingerly, move. The shit hole is clean. Believe they were only misunderstandings? All of what we were, has been forgotten (2089). Into the mausoleum, alone. A surprise awaits. Off to the auto parts store. Thou cannot plagarize anything, at all. Customers are cruelty. Song lyrics are the only poetry around, anymore. I’m sick of the damn drug talks, on the porch. It was as if I confounded the Soothsayer’s predictions. Only the tall girls, got me into trouble. Myra did it do him, proper. He just turned seventy five, only, he’s dead. It’s not ending. Goodnight, to the one who was never known. Arrangements were made. It’ll all go on, like insects do. Now, the caresses. Cocaine is no solution, fool. Buddha is a dead body. Many, mulled around. Do you have the tension? Talk to me, dead. The low notes infuse us with star powder. My real life occurs in a parallel universe. Yes, I blame you (no, I don’t). Well, I thought I was smart, but knew that I wasn’t. Every year, my mind gets more blank. Strung out on drugs, and unsure of our motivations. When I get upset, I drink. What are your sources? Too much sitting around. The inferno (vortex) is sucking me into it. Where were you, when Adlai died? The bolts are/were, screwed on tight (we thought). Keep searching, but never expect to find anything. Call it what it is, abandonment. Encounter the air, re-initiate dialoge, shove this “career.” I’m on some perpetual acid trip. It’s about nihilism and madness, not much else (life). We must become more old fashioned. You’re a fuckin’ fink! She was in the donut shop, I got the shivers. Bang on some drums. There are no rewards (who are we?). Why do we do what we do? Oh, I have a lot to prove, like that the last six years, weren’t all in vain. Don’t count on peace of mind, or anything, really. Too much talk? Five million attempts, fifty big returns. No one even got silly. They have too much faith in me. It’s not good, it’s brilliant, stellar, fabulous (?). We wanted acceptance. Poems, 1990-2000 (the Last Ditch Effort). No sound, forever. We’ve long since repented, you people just don’t know the sadness of failure (this is absolutely untrue). Shut up then, and look/listen, at/to, the goddamn sky. Now, all of it’s gone to shit, in a bike basket. They neglected to tell me that writing would turn me into a transvestite/faggot (it’s what it takes?). And I knew I’d committed an error. She turns me on so much, I couldn’t control myself. The song is too long (about the abandoned store). A playboy hitting bottom, with a glint in his eye. Are you ready for my brand of starch, yet? I still have the receipt from when we got his nails cut. Are you sure that you double checked everything? My foot keeps falling asleep, then waking up, by pin pricks. Sex is something that happens to people who live elsewhere. This is harm, that you are doing to me. Stay out of the theater. Not a pretty picture would I make, poor marks for appearance. Take the endless bullshit, on the chin. They can all read this book, just by looking at my face. Mean, may be good, in this day and age. This is like the way things used to be. There is nowhere to go, nothing to do. Decide against the super swirl. She had beautiful nails. Artists don’t get no nothin’. It’s all question marks and anguish, now. No, that is not what I am asking for. I am rather proud of this, all in all. You are asking for trouble, aren’t you? Remove, or add? Well, it’ll connect back up with the other one. The math isn’t working out in my favor. Eight long years have passed me by, quickly. If anyone deserves it, it’s me (said/written, without hubris). The binding is becoming undone. Man, I said “fuck it all,” fifteen years ago, and look what that got me (not much). We’re all phonies, not just them. The most wild, hair up the ass ideas, are the one’s that need to be acted on, first. This bag is not a toy. This is the brass ring (out of reach). Squiggly lines, indicated something. More, by all means, more, like the old man in the car. Lies were told. Smear me, again, into that collage that you made. They were ice carvings. Write about slam dancing (the only “advice,” in this entire book). People get arrested for doing the things we do. Why add that (?) to the rest of what is going to go down? The stories come from shit like this (source material), that somebody has to write. Ms. Jannson, I presume? There was that element, and the other. I just got out of jail (again). He used to try to live, but it just never worked out that way. It must be old paper. Grip fantasies, with no particular origin (you ain’t gonna’ get no Presbyterian. Equivalence, the two of us, drop kicked. Moving sidewalks, with our lips all over the books, bite marks, so on. You wouldn’t believe me, if I told you. No fiscal responsibility. Gonna’ take that sweater off you. They are not big, but they hold me up, provide balance. At the end of the world, I became a shoe collector. Get up, get up right now, or else. We’ve got to decide. Gemini has tits, now (and I can’t believe it)! So many shattered dreams. He likes to pretend that his own legs, are a woman’s, rub and stroke them. Lurch into the true grit, once and for all! Call it a damn interlude, if it makes you feel any better. I never got the warning letter. Why can’t I wake up, or even, sit up? That is truly how close it is. That’s most of it, and that is not enough! If I could move, I could finish. Baby, I’m gonna’ be your favorite fairy! A little beyond the hilt, is where we’re going. It was a false wink. I’m not only crazy, I’m insane (two for the price of one). Nothingness feels like a cold shower, after being awake, three days. We are what we are, and not much more. Slotcar (fancy); wake the (rum) delirious.