Things do, get back, but, I work, to make them, worse, stop writing about, yourself. Which question, did I answer, that I asked myself, and, what was that, answer? We are not, intending, to keep things, biological. Perhaps, there is, one, open mouth…Well, I’m sorry, if this doesn’t make any, sense. The, “recognizable qualities,” of the, “five, true things,” were never, explained. Infatuation, is often, directed, at the wrong, people, for the wrong, reasons. Sure, a little time, was lost, by my screw-up, but, screw-ups, can be gotten, around. I think, in all honesty, that I am, a mushroom. Glide, float, bounce, like a stoner, it doesn’t matter how, you do it, so long, as you get down the hallway. The semantics, don’t matter, not here, and now, anyway. We can’t, due to the nature, of the subconscious, get to the thoughts, that flip, and flit, off the back of our retinas, like they’re being shot out, via laser, onto a torn, and fluttering, movie screen. Nothing is enjoyable, there are too many, threatening things, in the landscape, to allow anywhere, to be a safe haven, a peaceful setting. Another, all time, high? Everything is temporary, in many ways; the verge of the verge, is where we’re, ruined. The help, I asked for, was never received, so, the raise, didn’t mean, what it should have. These issues, that keep coming to the fore, could become, major problems, if left, unchecked. Life, is for, “other people,” some, like me, have to, painfully, and, while diligently, working, watch them get, all the opportunities. Wave your arms. Deviation from the norm, is a good thing, after all, is said, and done, with restrictions, and limitations, of course. Whatever the hell, the issue, is, should be stated, for the record. Pay money, you don’t have, to people, you don’t want to give it, to, see, this is, the plan. My pain, is yours, and yours, mine, but, only people, who are too comfortable, joke, about this. The flattener of latex, is not the same thing, as paint thinner. Let’s try to salvage, that scrap, of whatever, out of the thing…after saying, no, for the ten thousandth, time. To connect, on an intimate level, to that way of thinking, may not be, possible. Show some, pizzazz, we’re told, but no one, can explain, what that, is, precisely. Duck around the way, this is no pizza day, if we never did, what we were, “about to,” do, what the hell, do we even bother to mention them, for? I thought that I started, early enough, but, next thing, you know, everyone is asleep, and you’re no closer to…what does that say, “the taking, of a man’s life?” You’d better be, very strong. The enthusiastic, are just as fucked, as we, are. He threw himself, onto the ground. Ripples, spread. Disassociate, from your appearance, and do the split, the eighty-four, ways. There is no room, for us (we, were not, there), here. We try not to appear (she spread out, her various, outfits) too guarded, or, femme… I ache, and I’m tired, all the time. Research, jails, eat chips, stand, where you want to stand, read the paper, with a strange, sense, of gratitude. Now, to talk to oneself, is not a sign, of being a certain way, but, in public, you should, probably, watch what you say. What happened, didn’t happen, in a tank, the previous conversation, may have indicated, as much, sorry. There are no chances, we’ve had, those. What did you say, good day, or, lay? Drool, lover, drool, anyone can be fucked, through the mind, but, don’t give any examples. To express, in fewer words, what would take/should take, a long time, to say; is why we keep getting dumped, for being, boring. If you’re not being loved, love? No more pseudo, weirdo, pen, and ink, work, is allowed, to be handed out, in the crowded bar. Buildings, get demolished, that shouldn’t be, the ugly buildings, the pointless ones, stand the test of time. This is it, do this, this is the debt consolidation, plan, that is sure to work. I want to steal! So much anguish, rage, hatred, despair, grief, paralyzation, apathy, and ambition, is related to, the final question. Pork out, the chicken functions. Noble, don’t pay much, and costs, a lot! So many of our thoughts, get to be, so, damn, dirty. This time it’s time, for real.
There is no temptation, if we (any of us), really, want something, it’s ours (but, we don’t want, enough). I tried to describe, the cathode ray, disaster. It’s not even, consistent! The way I am, doesn’t make any difference, I’m stuck in a system, that I despise. My life, is softer, gentler, than most people’s, much to my surprise. It’s good to know, that no one cares, about our plight, before we go out, asking for help. Pilar, I’ll talk to you, next month, and thanks for the tip. I never, was, was, I? Calls, at bizarre times, and under bizarre circumstances, are not returned. If you drive around, unaccompanied, do you pretend, otherwise? Walk through the wall, that interrupts our, “lower mammal,” goodnights. Finish doing that thing, about cheese, floating in the water, late summer. The past, is coming around, again, man. My shoes, are falling apart, at the seams, and smell, just terrible. Pornographic, alone time, of the triple X, variety, is often, interrupted, by a knock on the door. Talking, or, communication, in some way, makes it better, whatever was meant, by this. I’m so conservative (or, was), too many country stations, yes, it’s happening, again. Remain silent, when it comes to responding, to subtle, hatreds. There is a ditto, and a dime, on the ground, you are so good, sometimes. Do not antagonize, the clown, nobody knows what he’s capable, of. We are running out of things to do, like the garment industry, sweatshop, workers. Take out all trash, put, in dumpster. I don’t expect to be taken seriously, by those, who, know, me, but, I don’t expect to live, to be forty-two, either, and things, like that, just, seem to happen, despite what we think, or, believe. Our beer, our lives, other people’s mementos, and movie ticket, stubs? Help me to shake loose, of my moorings, put me on the conveyor belt, and consume me, bit, by bit, as I revolve, around, and around. There are no “breaks,” anymore, high school, and college, were, “breaks,” but, the time comes, when everybody, has got to sit down, and, do it, for real. They planned on me, becoming a criminal, I let them down. The selfish, fuckheads, will always be the, “winners.” It smells like an old, grocery store. The beginning, is the only place to start, when contemplating, any kind of nonsense, such as, “how to begin.” What if, this, pathetic, day, was your, last? Shove your, “insights,” they will do you no good, on the factory floor. Be an island, alone, stay by yourself. The clock, is, at least, fifteen minutes, off, and things that, can throw you off, such as, that, have a tendency, to throw off, other things, as well. The latrine, acts as my makeshift, tanning booth. There are too many people, more than birds, it would appear. I want to say, that I’ll get there, when I get there, in regards to, work, but, that sort of attitude, doesn’t fly, for long. The door, just squealed, open, my intention, is to go out, and receive a job, immediately (I think, I just, changed my mind). In the past, seeing slow, swirling, drifts of snow, used to mean something, just by the fact, of its occurrence, now, it’s just one, more, thing, to bitch, about. Assholes, and pricks, line the whole breadth, of infinity. So, I thought I heard a car engine, and, as it turned out, I was, right. So, how interested are you, in Germany? Drives, to, and from, wherever, we’re a regular, just, seem as natural, as a bowel movement, until we realize, that we’re doing, both, way too, frequently. The game, this month, is, ignore the mitosis, slide into spelling. Glory, be, the socks, are dry. There is nothing, we can do. If I didn’t have to do it, believe me, I wouldn’t.
I’m so tired, all the time, and I don’t do, anything. I’d better get to the point, eh? Somehow, I wound up in a union, hard to say, how it happened. Point no fingers, sing no songs, college, is best remembered, as a rehearsal dinner. Our drug, sex, and gun, crazed, society/culture, demands, that its entertainment, include, those things, as a major part, of its, content. That idea about the harem, was pretty weird, don’t you, think? I think it can be stated, with absolute confidence, that I do not know, what I’m doing. Throw the football, do that ballerina move, let’s make this, your last day, here. Hostility, bitterness, resentfulness, and cynicism, are viable, and important, parts, of a growing person’s, breakfast. Actually…see, I don’t know what bowling, has to do, with anything else. Never get married, or, have children, most of you. Whatever it, is, it (shun me) does not, bode, well. In the dream, I was in your house. The lack of anything, going on, is a blanket statement, to hide the fact, that there is a lot, going on. Some people, hug a lot, for unusual reasons. What makes sense, no longer, does. Alicia, drove in her car, through the city, stopping at a chicken restaurant. Things are occurring, in just, such, a way, as to drive me, out of my mind. May you never experience, what I, have. One body, is still in the water. For now, my life, is getting nowhere, I try to figure out, what it is, I’m doing, wrong. The, as yet, unwritten, better get scribbled down, soon. Put it behind the counter, and stop talking about it. Look, there isn’t going to be a, post-bachelors, pre-Masters, fun time, so get that out of your head, immediately. The excitement, of a good scam, perfectly, played out, is better than, unexpected sex, or, the feeling, of driving a new car, off the lot. There is a way, that must be found, it should have been found, earlier, but, that doesn’t matter, now. It is difficult, to even, imagine, something, not, coming from this… or, coming from, this. It aired, only once (like, Mexico). You’re acting like Spiro Agnew, before the fall. Back, way off… I want to brush aside, the utility bills, and live in the dark, the “big issues,” for most people, aren’t even, things, for… in the name of science. You waited too long, you got too, far out. I would remind you, of your sister, if you happen to have, one. Let me just drool, into my invisible bowl, of rigatoni, and imagine I’m swimming, in some crystal, clear, mountain, stream, naked, and without any embarrassing thoughts, of, “being seen.” Well, I need a broom, in order to be able to shut my bedroom door, without having to get up, from where I’m writing, and doing it, manually. The phenomena, most people, bitch about, the most, myself, included, is, deprivation. Our body double, stand-ins, are looking a little bit, shaky, causing us, to take a long, hard, look, at ourselves. Well, they’ve got a lot of nightclubs, up here, but none of them, seem to know, what night, is! Well, in response to your query, I do, but…sorry, shit? The inner sleeve, the front part, of our hands, brains, invent jealousy, the wrinkles, on the sheets, could be, from something else. Words, words, and more of the same, do not, a pyramid, or, other kind of something, that stands the test of time, make. How many hours, a mile? How could these transportation issues, transform themselves, into problems, of such magnitude, that…Hell, is our life work, an hour on the freeway, moving twenty-seven feet, a long lineage, of illegitimate children. Testicular cancer, is no cause for celebration. Go, get, high! Grow more crops, silly. Like tubes, on a pontoon. We need help, we can’t, ask for… It formed, an arch.
I should be the guy, hiring, not the guy who isn’t, hired. Demand, to return! There is no such thing, as hipness, or, coolness, they spend more money, is all. I don’t think that I’m as good, a person, as I could/should, be. Just to provide a blueprint, a sort of a, blueprint, to give a general idea, albeit, a detailed, and unalterable, one, of what is to be done (this is the point, of this). The smell of sulfur, fills the air, and I collapse, over in the corner, where the empty bottles, are, helpless, nauseated, angry, weak. I’m not allowed, even a measurable, fraction, of time, to unfuck, what it took me so many years, to fuck up. The tundra, outside the window, reminds me of a topographic map, of Iceland. The long, and the short, of it, is that you, and I, have a long way, to go, and, a short fuse, a short attention span, other, short, things. Things are arranged, in a ridiculous pattern, that doesn’t make any sense, it’s even crazier, that this, system, seems to work, to function. We owe so many people, so much, that to putter, and flutter, around, as we do, is too much more, than bullshit, to be believed. Burn this papyrus, flotsam, let the craps, roll, current events, aren’t only boring, they don’t matter, none of them, as they occur, daily, to lull us, and dull us, and try to suck us into, the vacuums of nothingness, that they, set up. The fresh, and cute, keep cashing in on their acquired, incentive plans, (fuck ‘em). It doesn’t matter, if the sun, is out, or not, nothing we’re told, matters, nothing. The prestigious, and rich, looking, are the people who become, those things, and, so on. I can’t say, what’s, “the most important thing,” anymore, to be, flat out, honest, I don’t care. I am very tempted indeed, to shove my imbecilic face, into the electric fan, after removing, the protective, plastic, grid. Death, is the most obvious thing, in the world, to write about, I used to write about it, care about it, I don’t, anymore, not in the least. It was worth a short story, we surmised. The nice, long, drives, home, that we take, are just another inundation, with chain stores, of one type, or, kind, or, the other. Iron out, all of your discontentment. Get on the floor, and beg. The chemist, knew all the wrestling moves. The chemicals, disagreed with me. Watch how many yogurts, you throw into that grocery cart, the store, counts on us, being ignorant, of how quickly, costs, add up. Some little flake, of something, just fell out of, or, off of, my head, and landed on my sleeve. Let’s sing kiddie songs, and be, beyond dumbfounded, at the fact, that it’s been four months, since we’ve worked a real job. Those burritos, didn’t hold off the starvation, for long, it would appear. As far as all of the “great, many, problems,” that we’ve all got, fuck them, they don’t matter. People who stick their finger, in their asses, as they sleep, are the same types of people, who will violently, assault you, for such crimes, as parking in their numbered, parking spots. There is something really annoying, to me, these days, in regards, the smell, of (free space) drunkenness. When I think about the comfortable, rich, snobbish, fashionable, people, that I have to send my book, to, in order to make three, or, four, cents, a copy, well, I get hostile, I get angry, and I could be wrong, about all of this, but, I’ve heard so many stories. Whoa, whoa, rejection, nine o’clock… I’m a big talker, I don’t mean, any of this, I’m so sad, won’t you please, help me? Most of the columns, were painted. The dog, had some kind of toy, in his mouth.
