063

Gosh, dang, it’s hard to be a powerless, nobody, and want to be, some kind, of somebody. Very, oftentimes, people, without clear-cut, agendas, get, not only, lost in the shuffle, but, dropped to the floor, and trampled, upon. I break all the rules, that I set, for myself, if I followed them, I would never be in this condition, that I find myself, in, now. My lungs, are bellowing up, air, that doesn’t quite, become a burp, from the deepest regions, of my inner canyons. You’re not going, anywhere! Flexibility, in scheduling, and a variable, set, of shift times, have become, a necessity. For several reasons, none of which, are ego-related, I demand, adjoining doors, that revolve, or, slide, no more, aluminum/fake wood, doors, please! We pick on the people, whom we most desire, to either fuck, or, be? Those growls, you hear, are nothing, no one, should’ve, come here. The next thing, no one’s going to be, too able, to go all that, cha-cha, over. Writing, is about as, near to, impossible, after awhile, as anything, can be, maybe, worse. The stones, are procured, things, pile up, the teenage, television programs, degrade them. The cult, of the vampire slayings, have occurred, there was a trial, a sentencing. Pick up, the pieces, carry on. It doesn’t feel, real, to me, at all. Lube it, up, get it, wet. Two, Cleland’s! This part has all been rearranged, elsewhere. Caring, leads to, homosexuality? I invite, hatred, subtly. We’re screw-up’s, but, we really, don’t want, to be. She knows all the other cities’, radio stations. Dial the number, just, call, the damn, number! Collect, your old, teeth. Why do I just, stare at this, and not do the work, that is required, to be put, into it? Bring it, with you, everywhere. It’s from my, armpits. You’ve got the power, inside. If I suck your clitoris, like, so, will it stimulate the nerve endings, in such a way, so as, to lead, to the physiological, experience, commonly, referred to, in medical parlance, as, orgasm? My stems, are rotting! Skaters, love me! Plump up, the ass, fluff, the pillow, party, like some high school student, with no idea, whatsoever, of what, “limits,” are, at all. We’re pelted, and belted, horny, and wet. All grocery stores, are rather, frighteningly, the same. There is nothing else, to write, about, sex, that I haven’t already, written, about, before. My total failure, won’t, allow me, to fail, at, this. My idea, is to jump off the roof, of this building. There will be more charges, filed, there are, always, going to be more charges, filed. My chuckle, chuckle, ways, are not going to be around, much longer. Let me rub your face, please. The pleasure, is all gone, there is no more pleasure, for us. When our dreams, get shot down, we pick up the pieces. The urge, or, instinct, to eat, is what’s causing, all of my troubles. My feet, feel heavier, than cement. The pie thrower, has been sentenced, on an assault, charge. Sure, I’m boring, but, let’s be honest, so is everybody else. What is required, are muscles, not tender, tenders. The hike, through the dunes, was not a, “total success.” I can’t stop my…Remove the spleen, of that animal, my, my, this is, an emotional high, isn’t it? No one can stop me, from sticking my finger, up my (filthy, dirty) ass, whenever I want to. So, so, gone, just, I’m so, so, gone. Hours, sitting in one place, while, all that while, being unable, to sit still, is what writers, do. I got a bang, out of, sunshiney peanut. Fuck the cops! Ghastly, ghastly, sides…burning coal, in rubber tires, the pain, of not being, that, the droning, of the topsoil, over the din, that the appliances, are making. Fill in the blanks, stupid. Someone, was going to throw that, out. I couldn’t pleasure, a blindfolded, horse, even if I had, tools. Let’s, screw. Shagging carts, for God? I’m chuckling, out of my midsection, now, next exit, for gas, food, lodging. The fish, are getting, horny. Work harder, even though, it’s all, rigged, to destroy us. Like licorice, we, are. Pull a, switcheroo (say, yes).