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The fishbowl view, we’ve got, is like not getting the background symptoms, what’s it doing now? Wish it, away. Jaundiced yelpings, modern day epistemology, isn’t any kind of knowledge, at all. Tremendous people, seem to die, less stageworthy, deaths. The lights have faded, and there’s no excitement, anywhere. We are so deceived, so fuscia. Tell me. Rumination is not effort, nor, is thinking. Burning matches, afterwards, only makes the smell in the bathroom, worse. We blew it. Air traffic control, is not more stressful a career, as that of a dishwasher, serial criminals, killers, etc. Are you? With a twist, or two! If you stop trying to get somewhere (there is nowhere to go), you might, somehow, arrive at a suitable destination, anyway. Delusional experiences, no one’s watching. Tame gestures, aphasia, prompts. Secure the feed bag, climb the trellis, confess, in dead silence, put your helmet on, now. Spit on your three ring binder. A corpse was discovered, right where you’d expect to find one. They removed my penis, and gave me a bag. This is the epitome of peril, nonetheless. Rice and beans, but all else, being equal; what really changes? Maybe there will be a mad flourish, towards the end. Keep her alive. I am getting so tired. See, they let us in initially, but tire of us, quickly. People are only part of the planet. The beaches are all clothing optional, nowadays. These drinks are spiked. Keep things sanitary, while I’m gone. We need to be cuddly robots, with no “feelings,” whatsoever, to survive in this World. Munich will burn, whoever drops the match. Keep those biorhythms (it’s an outrage) unencumbered, anyone will stray, everyone, wants a better situation. We are what they want us to be, until we snap. This is a forest, without trees. With a vendetta, vengeance, and alcohol, storm through the mental hospital grounds. Taste her, refer to the guidebook. There is no end, kind of, no end to the troubles, the struggle. Here we are, eating cheese, from a tube, wondering what the hell to do with our lives. The silence will return, we want to go insane (to have an excuse), but we know we aren’t, and never will be. How dare that lying, piece of shit, try to bump me off the deep fryer. My ears are ringing, louder than a phone. Raw sewage, and mulch; deep grooves, the guy in the ditch, antecedent, behavior, consequence. The paint is dry, we only get to see, part, of the expression. A toast, to all the beautiful failures, of the World (who are really, the successes)! Shall we comprehend a few rhymes, worth talking about? My endocrine system, is always near the door. Cringe, and look away from the future, forget the past, deny the present. We are all pitchers, full of bizarre. Don’t touch anything you’ve never seen, it hasn’t been proven, how diseases, are transmitted. Forget your calm demeanor, once, and for all. Left out to dry, brought in, still damp. Poor, equates to, powerless. Where’s that dildo? Patience, patience, nothing will ever be explained, or change. Brain space, to be wasted, give your friends a quick shine. But, then, as now, chapter four, will be entitled, things to say during coitus. With camera redeye, turn your radio down, just, try to do your best. This is pure insanity, no other way to describe it. Back to the bag, no VIP passes accepted, that pen, is it worth eight dollars? The backseat of the car, on the side of the house, is full of vomit. Pretend to drive, insult a plumber, experience the loudness, of cars passing, now, wear a chef’s hat. That look, hit me. So nifty, so good for you, salts, to keep you “even.” This is not any fun, turn the page, cough, just, cough. Swarms of complex truths, no faith, the fears of a small apartment. Take the doubt, out! Don’t fiddle with these cannons, the horizon seemed to scream out, “fuck her anyway.” Our eyes were four, in other words, no one got caught sleeping. Imbecilic crackpots, residual delays, it’s the quality, of the work, it leaves a little, white mark, there! Do not try to frighten the blind, do not join the first time club. He just freaked out? Whining voices, fix it jobs, tools, no longer used. Board up the buildings, burn them down. Go somewhere, where you won’t get caught! My, my, what winged mammals, live in that parapet? We need new magicians. Lampshades, and safety glasses, large, steel, grain holders, phone numbers; nothing else matters. Slump over the steering column, learn your lessons well, dye your hair, quell your curiosity, admit it, go for a different type, or kind, of fruit. Tomorrow will be too late, no matter how many, apparently, pass by, with, or without, the illusion of progress, red devil cake? The car, slowly, overheats, where is that poem, about cleaning, and traffic? Invisible moon, dark sky, are they on some pedestal, like, inebriation? Up, and down, with both hands, shortchanged, use only fresh cream, that’ll do. Is suicide the solution? We answer this, for ourselves, in different ways. Drown the obsessions, out. This is the sauce. Suck your eucalyptus dipstick, serenely. Incomprehensible lines dropped; hey, check out my penis. I can read everything quickly, except for this. Eleven per day, is still not enough. Why don’t we piss, in rainbow colors? Virgo girl, is still trying to get attention [page is ripped]. There is a fairy in the punch bowl. Forget the silly, slip/slide, book talk. The osmosis theory, didn’t get out of committee. Be your own, other half. On the whole, I am a leper. Morality, is sonic.

Let’s drop this line of inquiry. Please combine this, above part, with that, below, part. Circling, fix this, these discord blankets, give us goosebumps. Continuous dirty looks, huh? End up everything, with a swap meet, a gosh, or a golly, this phenomena is called, “emerging out of memory.” More than over, see? Flip a coin! The lilac season, is short. Have total anger? Is “way off the subject,” either good, or bad? Oh, make no mistake, I’ve long since, “lost it.” Don’t you dare. Ride the bumpy cake, out. For every group of champions, there must be, losers. So cozy, and douched, so abandoned. The time for fun time, ends. Three Moodrow’s! It’s gone too far, it’s absurd. Pretend to go to the beach. Adrift in the undertow, moisture, leaking through. They can covet their fifteen minutes, some are content, with the five, they’ve already had. Twitch, when you seriously contemplate, the earnings statement. There are points to be made, in clouds, and African drum circles. Clipping a ribbon, why the riot? Each town, has its accompanying smell. The World will die slowly, painfully, as most of us do. Infanticidal screams, imply that the worst, is over. How much can be accomplished, in an hour? Pop cap contemplation, can only get you so far. Flaming intellectuals, assault you, when you finally thought you were safe. It’s all mixed up, compact, wise. Too much thinking, about what used to be, in such and such, spot, wherever that might be, whatever. One reason to stay out of prison, is because they won’t let you attend relative’s funerals. So backwoods, and backwards, we all want to experience more, do more, we want cocaine, without all the nasty, side effects. Reserve one of those apologies, for Dawn. Don’t get too isolationistic, kids. Some people only feel happy, when it’s foggy, grey, and overcast, outside. Tonight, the theatre, the dance hall, hookers! There will be no fickle public, it could’ve gone either way, no more “background support,” or whatnot. No photographs were taken, we have all been grounded. Sow your oats! Droppings, the value of formal, higher, education. Let that anger out! Things, time passing, dreams dying, or deferred, we all pretend not to mind the smell. Movement, expressions, mathematics, bring your references, we call them back. Sleep in the front yard of some stranger’s house, amputate the crash test dummy’s, limbs. It is very real, which is all there is to say about it. Go deeper, dive right in. I feel just like a boy, in the winter, with his tongue stuck to a pole. Let him sit in the queen Victoria chair (linger). Are our funds going to be available by, say, May? Well, by all means, what we need are more reminders of the year, that never was. The power chain warranty, has lapsed. Nothing at all, was written on the crinkled, white page. Metaphysical unities, have a tendency to divide you, into six, slightly perforated, slices. The liar will usually lie to himself, as well as others. My room/me dead? There are a lot of things that go on in college towns, they are enclaves, secret centers, that keep those secrets, to themselves. There is a couch house, party house, a him, a her (archetypal figures), on every campus. Fatty, lose the weight, flat necessity. Grab his rear, watch him, skittle. Imagine, just one milligram a day, could control those errant, thought patterns, and get us into line, get our entire lives, into some semblance, of order. It would appear as if, there’s either too much work, or too much unemployment, with no middle ground, possible. I’ll pay you (I’m sorry). It all started to get real silly. Vicious circles, wasted years, the slough of despond, enough Mongolian leg wresting, enough cocaine vengeance! Let the ice cream sandwiches melt, there are more important things to do. We want to be able to piss, out in the open, without hindrance. Uh-oh, what happened to all the yellow sheets? Strongly consider, reconsidering what you have formally, strongly believed! Bleach clean all the tables (frequently, perhaps, always). Don’t attempt to transform your delusional disorder, into symbolic, Jungian, dynamics. There are dead starfish, and seahorses, on my front porch. That smell alone, would push St. Andrew, right out of the submarine! It’s just another drift away Friday, like a place setting. Repair the whirly-gigs, and wind chimes, weather vanes, invent some new thing. I keep telling myself, not to be vague, and obvious, and still, the moreso, I become. Positive/negative, use them both, to achieve your aims, and reach your goals. Listen to your mother, finish that letter to the editor, sweep up the mess on the floor. She saw maggots? Don’t do, what you do in the car, any more. Can you feel it, wiggling, and jiggling? Give it a little squeeze. I dug my own grave, this is it. Roll and scrape, roll and scrape. There are people who would like to see you rot in jail, for a long time. A loud moan, went off, like a siren. Pills do not help. Feel the hurt.

If pressed, say that everything is splendid. This, won’t lead to something else. Don’t fear the cotton gin. Sing, like the hippies, used to do. The behind the scenes action, is what’s the most important. The daze of confusion, becomes a glaze of misplaced, and misspent energy. I could fill in a few things, here, or there, to say the least. Start big, end with, “cuts.” Warehouses, noodles, sorrow, the end of me. Taste who, high on hello? I can say, with certainty, that I am drowning in my own saliva. My liver, and kidneys, are shot. Art, fear, and courage, get your life in order. There is an awful lot/too much, wrong, that I want to do (so much, that they are preparing to cart me off to jail). The saints who sin, had better wash out their pants! Gas up the Dodge! This, as with any other idea, may, or may not, bear fruit. We don’t want/can’t have, any distractions! Did I already mention, that I was too perverted, to have a girlfriend? There is a panic, and desperation, that only an artist can know. Avoid the hippies in the garden. What you believe to be of paramount importance, should dictate your guiding principles. How much windshield solvent, do we have left? There was some incident. Monday, you and I will go out for Thai food, and candy. Go overboard, dig deep, to come up with ideas, that haven’t been come up with, before. My transcriptions are so awkward. We shot the shit. Are you honestly considering, putting that, into there? You could write a graduate thesis, on customer service, and not get it all down. We still laugh at things that aren’t funny. I would like to avoid any future unpleasantries, resentments, anger. Ah, now, the rain. Lick your mustache. Hidden secrets, three arrests, three fucks. Did I lie, or just give the wrong answer? The panacea is low profile, dark rooms. There really isn’t anything to do. Where’s the invisible baseball? If I don’t change, I will never change. Stop the train, anticipate weirdness. Stop acting like you’re known. She is adorable, and improper, don’t even try to “cure,” her. The lists that have been provided, are not, and should not be considered to be, the be-all, end all, measure of what should, and should not, be done. Put down the ouiji board, don’t mature, accidentally. When you’re going nowhere, it doesn’t much matter, if you’re the master, or the slave. The days of hands, and knees, are over, baby. Eat the cake! When stuck, think about that! We must mean what we say, and say what we mean, if not, what are we doing? To not say anything, to just direct, is fine, as long as who we’re directing (usually ourselves), takes the direction, that’s given. This is some slip down, due to margarine. They will confound you, totally. This is all so quasi-elliptical. There are places out there, bold faced, places. Control, is surely, slipping. The memoirs, include veiled references, to the 90’s, as a decade. Sometimes, lately, the hunger doesn’t go away; nothing satisfies it, abates it, stops it cold. She used to live in a house, by the makeshift distillery. From here, on out, we are on our own. I am/was. Get beyond the radio, the myths, the rickety business. This is all just becoming another mess I’ve made. Inject your old fashioned self, in a new fangled way, act horny, act as if you were bouncing up, and down, on a used futon. The computer was rude, and hung up on me? Shuffle out in ecstasy, belch up the taste of dill pickles, my brain may not be sufficient, to do anything. The cool girl, is over there, alphabetizing books, by title, author, subject. Do a thousand things, a thousand ways. Research, and editorial realms, may provide a suitable, avant garde, sort of mischief. I don’t know that this can be fixed. Rage, pain and intrigue, enter the kids minds, tonight. The smell of urine can be depressing, nobody can, or will, help you. Hours, in theatres, apologizes are in order, for my incompetence. Put those pastries down, knock off that silly shit. Don’t just sit there, people need help, and we need more volunteers. Well, I’m not talking, or thinking, quite straight. So many electrodes! Visual aids to, ahem. Be a grown-up, babyface. Slight silliness, slight silliness, will more than likely, occur. Spit, act amusing, dance with me! We need people to do things, that they wouldn’t ordinarily, do. Just let me in that room, the room where things occur! Somewhere in the middle, everything just collapses. Call it whatever you want. My mistress died, twice. What is it, that I want to get written, on this page? Only the best, can be added in, now. Somehow, it’s all enough. Measure in, indeterminate things. The cops have tanks, now, they are getting prepared for what’s to come (soon). I carry within myself, untreated diseases. Don’t let yourselves get tied down, by the minutiae. There is noone outside. Everything, is getting worse. Talk louder. She makes men, want to wear her clothes. Stop what you’re doing! I do not like chubby me; bubbly, chubby, you know, feeling the tummy, feeling the tummy, I do not like that. Epochal sounds, resound through me, the more under the weather, I am. The poster was sold, to a passerby. Brain damage, is irreversible, alternately, the best thing is to be attacked, then, pardoned, pardoned, then, attacked. Laid up, buying disks, trying to scam, birdhouses, made of birdseed, and the rising cost of suet. What page are we on? Karl Marx appears to me, in the torn away stickers, residue. Can I be your drunken spokesman? Don’t forget the unabated, forgotten, title #6. Too much pessimism, equates to not enough work, getting done. How about shitfueled vehicles, that last thirty-six years? We cannot live, somehow, we can’t make it. I took the easy way out, thus, well, thus…

Stay away from the asylum. Yell a little yell, full of loves, and hatreds. Convenience stores, convenience lives, cover your ass, get control, don’t mention the grilled vagina, joke. If you’re pathetic, try to avoid becoming, more so. Publication, does not a literary God, or Goddess, make. Do I have to put on the gloves, and wipe your ass for you, again? This is an affidavit, saying you failed to do, what you were supposed to do. Don’t fink us! Fill in the information below, and send the entire packet of information, back. Can’t compete with the average, sitcom writer? Some bisexuals, have a preference, for the fairer sex, whichever that is. Koans are a waste of time. Be your own (residue) dance partner. Things don’t just have to be done, they’ve got to be done, correctly. I am feeling subtly threatened, by the wasted time, and all that, while waiting for the indictment, to come down. The horn player’s grades, weren’t good enough? Don’t linger anywhere for too long, hang out, nowhere. You may not have another day. The novice, meets the expert, and they find out they knew the same things, all along. All of our sufferings, are not indicative of what we’ve got to work with here. We can only be helpful, if you cooperate, the letter from the headhunter, said. Boring (harder, harder) college town routines, leave your ex-friends, out of your current problems. Narrow it all down, into a digestible story. Need a dick in your mouth? Concrete behavior, means more than what you do, or do not, still believe. Obsessed with the idea of using humor as a shield? Darker, blacker, further, deeper. Tons of room… Don’t be blind! Oh, my goodness, I almost couldn’t tell the word newsstand, from the words, new sandwiches. Just go in there, fill out an application, and get the damn job! Shortly, I am going to be asking each, and every, one of you, to get up in front of the whole class, and read your book reports, aloud. Parked on the wrong side of the street? I am envisioning, and imagining, interviews, with smiling editors, what I am likely to receive, is a police escort, out of the building. I read something, somewhere, about cornfields! Where is you? Go back to the unproduced works, page. Let’s call this the end, now, we’re one step closer, to the beginning. Distance, is not a flinging, kind of, stinger. Go before the man at the registration desk. Fill out the forms, style your thumbs, don’t forget the mashed potatoes. Aunt Huh, says who? No collateral, means, start to assemble, forget about the results. You’re so selfish, but, so am I. Don’t let yourself be captured by the detectives, who are interested in your oh-too predictable, comings, and goings. Try to remember, what you’ve forgotten. Should we beat the stupidity out of ourselves, or put on another 45? This claustrophobic, fear of failure. Destroy what is. Eye contact is painful, there are too many beautiful people out there. School ends, be ready. Pretend to be vivid, detached. We used to get drunk, and do some crazy things. Stamped, with a defective piece of machinery. Tenderness, you got it, punctuality, I hope so. The rest, yes, I will provide all the rest. To be thus, washed away, down the drain, and away. Down the drain, on a train, down there. It’s all mixed up, on the doorknobs. If you wear a caboose, you better work out. No matter what happens, if you’re flat out, lay. Speak your lines with resonance, don’t wipe your face with his handkerchief. We will all be soon, forgotten. Go too far, sometimes. There is no forever, baby. They are always there. My impulses are not the same as my instincts, and I follow both, blindly. Don’t go over there, where the people are, with snot on your lapel. You’d better be real, careful. There, there. Rub your penis up against her legs. If you wheeze, spit, and cough, in such and such a way, however many hours, pass, tables. The coin we found, dated back to 1943. React to the silence, pause. The collision of that, and this, will allow something, more interesting, to happen. Slimy, slimy, legs. Transitions could be more intense, editing, could be done more carefully. If you intend to be an efficiency expert, gossip, cough, hiccup. Igor climbs up, and down, the stairs, the cobwebs, are cleaned, the logs, are brought in from the outside, to the inside. If you’re French, act Spanish; if you’re Spanish, act French. If you’re in over your head, admit it, if you’re not doing anything, get to work. Basements can be furnished, remodeled. If you’re going to eat pancakes, beware! Don’t become trapped in secluded cul-de-sacs, with strange people, howling. Don’t blow another interview, get up, and out, and to work, now. Take advantage, make a way, find it, do it, where it can’t be done. Ask for some loose change, walk a tightrope, fly a kite, doodle in the margins, question, underline, be amazed, put down the article about the official, church, religious dogma. From a random event, to three kids, and it seems like yesterday (it was). Invite yourself to the closed casting/closed captioned, audition. So many impulses, we need a forum, an airing, of the proverbial laundry. Start making (pretending) sense, you’ve already tried the other way. Fake common sense, if you must, just to get started. Fruitcakes are not to be emulated, we’ve got to find some sturdier ground, than this. My alcoholic, binge eating, tendencies, are at the forefront, again. The lamp acted as a barrier for us, thank goodness. Sabrina’s stuff, can’t be added to this! They cannot occur, there is no time to fuck up, no room; no possibility of another mistake. Every trick has been pulled, I’ve run out of repertoire. It is not cool, funny, or alternative. I’m just not afraid of you, I used to be, but that was a long time ago, and even then, the only person I was really scared of, was myself. We have rights, once we come clean, into the straight, and narrow. You must be strong enough, to handle the things, that you cannot handle. Crash the gate down, understand that the answer, might not be what you think it is. Do not collapse leaves into books, do not give yourself, even a mild case. Do not fool around with anything, or put butter on it, either. Don’t mess up, anymore, don’t play games with your momentum. I am desperate, helpless, at wit’s end, sitting here, crying, and nobody knows, or cares. If you like waterslides, you’ll love hydrotherapeutic massage. We’re all on our own, no more surprises.

No flutes, no crushed velvet. Figure out what’s funny. My material, is sounding orange. Tonight, that high-on, hippie chick, is mine. Leave the cake, and/or cakes, for somebody else, to eat. As if you don’t remember. We are going to rarify experience, create, and find, the zone, question witnesses, inform the doctor, request duplicates of all printed correspondence. Start over from scratch, fresh, completely, over. Everyone deserves a second chance, give yourself one. Only the best, of the best, turn professional. The deluded, stay that way, unless they wake up. Everyone wants to be the star of the show, the top of their game, the paramount, of paramounts, the cream of the crop, the biggest, fastest, strangest, sucker. This desire, doesn’t seem to abate, but we have to be practical. In this, it is all tied up in how much hard work you do. My problem is that I don’t have any beginning, to end, ideas, and I need them, a lot of them. This scratching, and sniffing, is a betrayal, of a certain kind, like staying at a party too long. You must sacrifice a great many things, to be what you want to be, you must perform with maximum effort, proper delivery, you must remain dedicated to the craft, and always, improve. I want you to use events in your own life, failures, if you care to call them that, to ensure that there will be no more. Do not be a flavor of the day, be much, much, more. Most pedophiles, do not want to be. You could see her eyes, had seen, many things. It’ll be more than a disaster, I fear. Stopping is death, improvement, and practice, persistence, and integrity, are musts. It isn’t there, anymore. They worry it will spin out of control, it will. We spent some time on Elizabeth Street. Since I couldn’t (talent lack) be a baseball player, I will be a writer? I saw a puppet, when I closed my eyes, tightly. Get the chocolate sauce, off of your feet. Nothing (especially myself) will stop me, nothing. Our chances are slim. The atrocious acts, that I committed! Remember the acting in that room, the broken tooth? You must put everything you are, as well as everything you want to be, into your chosen, art form. The equation will balance, only after I am balanced. I want this to become an automatic process, I want to know what this is. If there is to be any genius, it is to come from hard work, only. I am so lazy, that I’m anti-lazy, but there is so much more, to be done. Let’s look ahead, to tonight, she’ll be imagined in such a such a pose, probably, face down, and I’ll go to town on it, that, yeah, the cavern, pleasure garden, woebegone, delightfully quivering, life source. Whatever the double sided dildo, would, or could, do, needs to be approximated. Most XX’s, have been around, had it, done it, thoroughly enjoyed themselves, in the practice, of it, and you’ve got to outdo yourself, work a lot harder, go that extra mile, use more erogenous zones, more vigorously, to petal her feathering, universe. The irrational, is the rational, these days. We don’t want to believe, what we know, all too well. Let me pull my hair out, like all the rest of the slaves in the galley, up there! To do things like this, well, it’s morally wrong. It’s time for a lot more controversy. Preparing for sex, is like preparing for a complex, stage role, in a huge production. The sparkle no longer (I’m fictional) surprises us. Write about walking. Everything must be worked out in advance, preparation is crucial, to the subsequent, eventual, performance, it is best to get to work on every aspect of it, early in your career. Keep getting back to work, composing lyrics, etc. Smoking will kill me, but floundering, will kill me, sooner. Where are the residents? Only a Bialak, only a Hungarian? Twenty-five years, no? Rights, and the writer, thou haveth, none. Better exorcise all that (too much work) stuff, you’re almost, reading. Go off of, X. What you do, is all you can, or, is it? The best known, unknowns? Do some subtraction, or don’t. There is a great deal of playground out there, to be a part of. Get seismic, in the right way, then, improvise, properly. Taking direction, is not the same as, dictation. All of the sudden, Al started talking, in a Wisconsin/Eastern Minnesota, accent. Your resistance’s, are conflicting, contradictory, collapsing, crusty. The spiral wave, is so whew-whee. Fall apart. Organize an empire, don’t distract yourself into obscurity, detours, think tanks. There may, or may not, be something wrong, with my neck. Don’t ever try, to walk all over me, don’t whack, don’t ogle, intuit, place on napkins, stop it! Drain your scrotum, of built up, fluids? Don’t kick with steel toes, listen to what can’t cause, acne. What stands between me, and it, that, and the other, here, and there? You don’t need to know where the drugs are to be purchased, anyway. Are your senses melting into one another, yet? This doesn’t make any sense! Keep your pills to yourself, keep your lack of availability, keep your shift. Pretty idiom/idiot, loops, are causing jaws to drop, where’s Marvel? Taos, what about, Taos? Drinking out of the toilet bowl, again? Show the way, show through this common, sort of, occurrence, loser squirtings, thumblings, at whosoever. What sounds like a jousting match, and a basketball game? Learn to behave in the wind. My skull, is becoming open. Inspiration cannot be forged? Get out of yourself, and onto the page, find that interview time, date, and place. As my ideas dry up, I’d better recapture them. Made up words, and languages, know what you’re doing. Tearings, interrupt the twist, wrenchings, untangle your art, from its hang-ups. Let us spend a moment, let a phenomenon occur, speak German, don’t let that, this, any of this, happen. What am I trying to do, in other words, what is all of this for? The band is either getting, have gotten, or will, shortly, have, real careers, don’t be left behind. The west side, corrupts innocence. Is this shit, or what?

Don’t let me become a low budget movie. Maybe I’m not good enough for the mall, maybe, I’m too good, or no good, who knows? You’re no index. How could this, be well received (it never will be)? Please, solve your own problems. The midget, and the mailbox? The prosthetic foot, along the side of the highway (a lover’s spat, perhaps?). Refuse to discuss it. How the hell do you feel justified, in continuing to enjoy yourself, while all the shit, has hit the fan? Significant others are necessary, in the fantasy world, but not the real one. There is a thick film, all over me. Is there anything more solemn? Exclamation Mark and the Oblivious, are playing out at the Sock Box Barn, tonight only. Go back, and forward, in time, and do that other thing they do, having something to do, with then, and now. Happy, majestic, halo fondlings, glowings, church group meetings. Quite a gloomy heyday, this. Up, and down, rockety stairs, to unstable floors, and on, from there, to modern looking doors, too high up on the wall, that don’t go anywhere. Let’s get this thing started, let’s go across the street, and grab a pumpkin. No more fatuous, or ridiculous, candy bowls, no more mopping, and sweeping, no more “for here, or to go” talk. It is time to cause mayhem. There’s room down there, there’s room down there, c’mon. Let’s keep the suspense to a minimum, you know, the bullshitters, croakers, and shitters, that scam their way in, and out of, all the good jobs, that, is not me. There are an awful lot of idiosyncriacies at work, on my crunch test, Iowa. Send me out to do the stories, that no sane person, would ever want to do (but, gently). No more feelings hurt, or resentments, and hate, just supper times, super times. I have had a rough go of it, from time, to time, I’ve had to learn all those harsh, and horrible, lessons, everybody has to learn. I am a confused person, help me get back to the campground, because I am most definitely, lost, and perhaps, even, ill-prepared. Truth, facts, out of hand audacity, tangles of excess verbiage, screams about television. Long stories, made short, short stories, made long. Space enough to fit, question, statement, question, statement. Cover all the bases, find out where the lines of communication are. I am not a know-it-all, I will need help, maybe more than some guy from the Baltimore Gazette, or Texas Times. But, see, I’ve got verve, whatever that is. I suppose, ah, I don’t know. Why people want, what they want, is a mystery to me, as are, most things. I can’t tell what, dates from when, anymore. Maybe I’m the future, maybe I’m a washout, at least I know, it’s up to me. Well, here we are; uncomfortable, silent, vague, distrustful, and disinterested. I don’t really know anyone, I’m already a writer, thus, I sit alone in my room, most of the time, and write. Help me, I can only write, what hasn’t been written, already. Puckered, puckered, and the dreamy ride back home? There are loud sirens going off (not for real). That’s that, easy as pie. Don’t make up people, like the last time, let’s go, let’s go. Traipsing around downtown, doesn’t sound like a good idea to me, being, as I am. I woke up today, feeling really awful, and disoriented. Too tired to stand up, I started a query letter to W.B. Dildo & Co., and it’s terrible. Anyone could show me, by example, how to live a life, better than I am living mine. It is Tuesday, do not delay in getting those things done, that you know full well, must be done. Most important, is getting out of that court date, and you’d better hurry, because it’s probably, already too late. Secondly, you’ve got to get a non-job, type of job, in an advertising firm, or perhaps, an art gallery, but you have to get it, have it. Letter must be typed, a little funny, really professional, could mention idea graveyard. But, they get thousands a day, how can mine stand out? My training, is in nothing. That is something to most definitely, consider. A graduate degree, in what? Well, yes, being a teacher, would be nice, but where are you prepared to work? Kids are wearing bulletproof vests, to school. Finish this, then go on, to that. Do not pause, or cease, under any circumstances. I want to be the inside of her watchband. I’ve got work to do, that is so complex, the work is going to be so all-consuming. Why should we watch your erotic finger puppet shows? Watch it all come back around. March would have been the date, that the insurance could have been cut back. Don’t ever stop screaming. Flutter lightly, succumb, with your fists clenched. Suddenly, everything is velvety. Time is of such consequence, there are so many places to go, and things to do. How can I just, sit here? I made one call, this will not do. In my pocket is a long list of projects to undertake, one at a time. I dread where I am right now, and hereby, resolve, never to let it happen again. The day we never (one sentence, about infatuation) thought would dawn, is here. My speech defects, are clear. I’m too old to be living here, relying on others, to do all my work for me, as I sit here, writing nothing of consequence, because, I think I have to. Some paragraphs seem longer than others. Cupid carries a shotgun, these days, and it’s gonna’ be a wedding/funeral, combo. It’s sack cloth and ashes, for now. Break all rules, until such a time, as you get what you want. Fake the forgeable sheets, today, and mail them in, to the motherfuckers. There is no way that what is happening to me, is happening to me. So horny, and in need, of an Anastasia, Tatiana, Katarina. Use your sex brain, to come up with creative ideas. Cut your testicles off, if need be. Get names, addresses, and telephone numbers, go to these places, in a suit, and get a big bouquet. If you “wind up,” selling cemetery plots, you’d be quite lucky. We are already richly appointed, and prepared. No, not shirts, versus skins! We never thought it would happen to us.