064

Strawberries, invaded, the blueberry patch, and caused, many problems. The rumors, about cocaine, are already, spreading, even though, there is no truth, to them, it looks like, my career, is over, before it gets started, again. This is not a caucus, as much as a, “welcome to your brain.” The clown, at the edge of the cliff, will jump, you can tell, by the octaves, his voice, is emitting. The cleanup campaign, began, and ended, with a lot of butter, flying around. There is still, this thing, that needs to get done, these tapes, that need to get made. This is a bipartisan, sit-in, a policy redirection, this is anti-art, antifamily, antigovernment, in short, anti-everything. Our kindness, is mistaken, for (excise taxes) weakness, and, well, there is another message, we would like to send. The question, of the deterministic, universe, is (see?) still, a question (sort of). Don’t get caught, with your pants down, in Portage, in a truck. I honestly, didn’t know, what that guy, was talking about, when he asked me where the hose, was, or, what happened, to it. Sex thoughts, and new ideas, in masturbative technology. Party dresses, drinking, punk princesses, at the big house. Everybody’s (wear nothing), everywhere, sanity, is fine, for them. Scratch the spots, you can barely, reach, get semi-manic, after it’s already, too late, let the water, run, until it turns, cold, sit in the dark, wide awake, alone, use too much, bleach, use too much, hand soap. Well, the stalker instinct, kicks in, the genes, have ideas, about propagation, that the rest of the body, and, certainly, the brain, will never, understand. The weather, will surprise everyone, again, this week. The truck, was in flames, by the side of the highway, yet, it hadn't yet, blown, people, were running around, like decapitated chickens. Once, I wipe my own slack, off of myself, well, golly, maybe, the wait, will have been, worth it. If at first, you don’t succeed, never try, anything, ever again, seems to be, the way things work, in my creaky, tweaky, head. The vomit, keeps, half, coming up, I wish it would, get itself, over with. I am bouncing off, my own tenderness, and not enjoying it, not enjoying it, at all. The radar, indicates that there is someone, in your bushes, and they…their hand, seems to be…that’s a lot of movement. The most beautiful, perfect, trees, just, fall down, die. Erehwon, has been my place, residence… too long. Someday, I will be thrown in jail, on trumped up, charges, evidence, will be planted, the whole, fucking thing, will be a setup, for my permanent, fall. They told me, that the profanity, has to be removed. My sickness, is not funny, I can’t prevent it, I try, and try, and I just, can’t seem to, prevent it. I want to repeat, the same words, over, and over, again, I want to…I don’t…see, it’s both things, going, at once. I am not sure, of this damp, violence. We’re just like, the vegetable people. All I keep asking myself, is, what is wrong, with me? I have no, answer. Some of them, wore sweaters, waved pennant’s. Invent a new, self. Widen, our view, indulge, our stupidity, slap our asses, sexually assault, us. A long time ago, my life, not, wife, life, left me. When I was very young, my parents, emigrated, from Russia, and they brought me, with them. The house, needs to be cleaned, the house, always, needs to be, cleaned. The supposedly, religious, hermits, recorded an album, of hymns, nobody ever heard, where, or, what, the proceeds, went, towards. Take up more space, enjoy the backdrop, scenery, rig the lights. This is no sing along, song, in Spanish! I don’t need to see, the finished product. I have no other brain, than this, one. Do you like my glasses? Vittles!
Ten, essential, mistakes, were, made. If feels like there’s a caterpillar, in my ass crack. The overall feelings, that I’m feeling, involve fat, and greasy, types, of things. Never before, have I felt, so, diseased, even though, for now, I have no, diseases. To say I look like a jiggly egg, and feel, way worse, would be an adequate, enough, description. The teddy bear, had a makeshift, torn, vagina, and, had semen stains, all over it. Anyone, can accuse, anyone else, of anything. Beware, we are about to be fooled, or, deceived, in some way. For all the years, of torment…you will, pay. Most everything, that I’ve ever read, would seem to correspond, to a paramount, of quality, that I can only, hint at. All summer, that snowmobile, sat out by the wood pile, uncovered. The anger, the anger, and all the blank sheets, of paper, with which, to record it. Not everybody’s, balance sheet, works out, quite, so, neatly. Sigh, and look away. All you’ve got to do, is read. It’ll happen, anyway, it, cannot, not, happen. Oh, you’ll be, loved… Hello, candy-doll. Try to get the best, out of your (it’s all, so moist), peculiarities! It is now, time, to get, centered, and sane. Greatness, is not for, us. Turn on the light. The floor, contains, hair ties, gum wrappers, quarters, pencils, and pens (and, parts, of those), empty bottles, and cans (as well as their boxes, or, containers). Try to understand, the syrup of love, the desire, for disease, the falseness, of the scriptures. The clothing, needs to be washed, we are forced, to comply, with bold directives, in order to accomplish, this task. Well, we’re pretty much, contingent, numbers, added to the ranks, of, the sick of it all, club. Make that call, now, plagiarize, that list, mail, those things, forge, those names. It’s funny (but, of course, isn’t), what we all, have to go through, just to survive, in this world. If I don’t get my time sheets, into, where they have to be, by tomorrow, I won’t get paid, again. So, so, divine. Perhaps, my brain, isn’t working, quite the way, that I want it, to. I just seem to be getting, more, and more, anxious, as time, goes on, and, believe me, when I tell you, that I already, started off, really, really, anxious. I have become the softest/most, doughy. I’ve chosen the wrong line, of work. What is required, are sit-ups, what are performed, are rollovers. My penis, looked like, a five year old, boy’s, when the rubber gloves, went on, and the Vaseline, was taken down, off the shelf. My whole wrist, disappeared, the pattern, of atomic symbols, on the pillow, took its place. I’m not my own shadow’s, reflection. The pretty people, of the world, have their own agendas, of the kind, us, average, folks, will never be able, to quite, understand. How did that beer, get on top of my desk? All the clenching, and releasing, clutching, groping, could be, a come-on. Well, now, I’m chubby, buddy, again, and, not, enjoying myself. The staph, is in my nasal passages, as we speak, and, worse things, are happening. The punishment, is too, severe, master, please, have mercy, on me! Let us, count, on one hand, the thousands, of reasons, to keep quiet. Basically, I am a designated driver, how did human, fecal matter, get on the end, of my pen? Writing, is like injecting yourself, repeatedly, with some virus, and then, keep, right on, doing it, after you’re already, dying, of full-blown, all out, whatever. The past, is one, tough, motherfucker, to keep creeping up on me, and kicking my ass, the way, it does. All heavy metal, rock and roll, singers, sound the same, to me. Who could forget, the trip home, from up north, where there was too much, discussion, about signed waivers, and release forms? The end, itemized. Stylishly, we acted, soverign. We avoided, dances. Refuse to believe, it.
The secret of the paradox, was broken, when it should have been, solved. Who, stole the bricks, from where? Tight, tummies. Don’t you know, yet, that sex, is like, poison? So many, likely, stories, not very well, formulated, alibis. Some, crazy things, happen (but, they’re, inconsequential). As you are, no doubt, already, aware, I never became, a professional, baseball player. Mincemeat pies, get spit out, into the napkin. For property, for a way out, for some possibility, of Earthly, salvation (beyond, free breakfast), anyway, it is of necessity, to, get it, have it, present it, properly, and, make your own luck, happen! The joy, and thrills, are gone. Well, who wouldn’t, want to hop around, like a guru, to a bassline, like that one? Why can’t I, just, die, now, and get it, over with, why prolong, this agony? These tricks, aren’t working, see, I’m trying to fool myself, and, anytime, you try, a stunt, like that, it doesn’t last, very long. Life, is not enough, for most of us, oh, sure, we nod, when people say, blah, blah, life, blah, but, none of us, agree, that, blah, blah, blah, life, blah, we pretend, to, so as not to appear, selfish. Pigtail girls, get off your high horse. We know too much, about the comings, and goings, girlfriends, and boyfriends, of famous people (and what the fuck, does it, matter?). This anger, is towards myself, and self, alone, but, from time, to time, it gets to be, too much, and I have to blame, someone else. Whoa, I thought I just saw, UV rays, cascading, through me! I want to fuck, some women, so badly, that it is virtually, guaranteed, that I never, ever, will, which, is perhaps, for the best. Go to the side, please. To the Motel! They riot, for fun, to break up the dull, old, routine, and, in order for, something, anything, to happen. No, it isn’t, consistent. The cat, loves the one, that feeds it, the most. We do, many, strange things. We drive, automatic cars, so, as you see, we lack the coordination, that is required, to…How did that piece of plastic, get in my mouth? I’m…We want sex smells, (total commotion) great taste, low calories, stroking, and shitting, minty, fresh. Sometimes, saving receipts, might not be, all that, necessary. I can’t cry, no matter how much, I have wanted, to, recently, it just, doesn’t happen. My brains, are like the dust, in-between, the wall, and the carpet, of a dirty room. If that asshole/hotshot, parks in my parking spot, one more time, I’m going to smash out, all of his car windows, and, while I’m at it, his apartment, windows. You are never going to have, sex. All of our selves, are false. Why is it, that I’m not able, to tell myself, that this, writing thing, “just, isn’t working out?” We were, “Simon Wimps.” Let’s eliminate politics, and economics, from our lives. The false (terrifying, fear), passion, that I’m exuding, right now, is like a toddler’s, first, tennis match. Don’t accept, the scraps, and bones, that they toss, to you, when they, feel like it. Don’t pay, the medical bills, that are piling up, fuck ‘em. They called, me, from the crisis hotline, and told me, to call, them. I, “have, detachment,” but it doesn’t do me, any good, whatsoever, in fact, in my case, it’s harmful. From time, to time, I’ve, “cared,” whatever that, means, but, usually, I don’t, like, right now, I don’t care, about, absolutely, anything, in this entire, cesspool, dung heap, goddamned, fuck-wipe, world, exceptions, noted. The people on television, especially, in the commercials, for some reason, are just, too attractive, so att…too attractive, too attractive, to actually, be, human beings. There aren’t any new developments, from the front, none of these solutions, are, nothing, prevails. You laugh, but my misery, is so total, and absolute, I’m so, fucked, no, you shouldn’t, care, unless, you find yourself, to be in a comparable, place, as I am in, someday. This is like, BINGO, but, worse. She showed, everything (yellow). It doesn’t matter, who you are, etc. I can’t keep my eyes, open.