072

Forget the pleasant strolls, over to the mall, just, forget it. Coin some new, people. I’m a, “drunk tank, fuck!” We’ve seen, more than enough, movies, involving sex, guns, monsters, and spaceships, stop it! Oh, we’ll get back, to this! Surpassed, again, under, mysterious, circumstances. She knows, how much I loved her, which may be, all that matters, right now, her name, doesn’t, at least, you, don’t need, to know it. It probably is, a good idea, to start from the top, and work your way, down. The canary’s, neck, was doing so much spinning, and bobbing, that it reminded me, of a Mexican prostitute. Now, work backwards, from here, try it, it’s sort of, an experiment. Crumple up, whatever’s (it’s mostly, pretty stupid) on the canvas, and, just, start over. Please, don’t let me do, what I want. When it starts looking like your pets, are wearing eyeliner, you’ve been smoking too much, hashish. When is treason, justifiable? Another week, year, just passed, by, without my having, anything, to show, for it. Just because we’re in prison, right now, doesn’t mean, that we’re never, getting out, again, or, that the network, stops running, if you know what I mean. The inside of my car, smells like ice cream, there has never been any ice cream, in the car. Well, yeah, I live below my means, the only problem, is that I have no means, to speak of, anymore. Go ahead, bite your nails, I mean, who cares? Nothing, can set you, free (see above, or, below). Avoid, the pretty/the petty. Is the couch, an extension of our bodies, too, guru? How did we, ever get, this way? No vinyl windows, ever. Do you, know, right, from, wrong? Most people, have complicated, familial, relationships. The psycho, spasms, of my knock about, rhythm, aren’t getting me, from garden, to garden, anymore. Put up, some more, scripts, wax, and paste, wax, and paste… The workout idea, stopped, somewhere, along the way. Relaxation, has been vigorously, researched, by the crew, the club, the pilots. These toys, are not for the kid’s, entertainment, they were made, cheaply, they were, made, to break. I forgot, my own, secret codes. The archives, have been… we never got out, of pre-production. The throbbing, and facial expressions, were, fake. So many things, that I meant to, write down, or, was sure, I’d remember, are so, forgotten, and gone, they don’t make any difference, anymore. The city, got to be too much, a sort of, ESP, wedding, took place, we’re masters, of nothing. Be, no more, demanding, than a nympho, in diapers, wiping his ass, with his lover’s, tongue. I (wait) tore too many hairs, out of my nose, it has affected my, breathing. I want to write about, my year in Adicordack, but, it’s so uninteresting, that I’ll spare you, all the lurid, details. My mistakes, have already, torn off my flesh, I should be on, to something else, by now. My cholesterol, is out of the bag, my sense of control, gone, no, get up, and go. Why, is it, that the hardest working, people, become, the laziest, why do these opposites, fit together, so neatly, as far as, my life, is concerned? Most people, have all their hinges, still, attached, others, are dangling, sort of, half on/half off, and there wouldn’t, seem to be, a tool, around, that can remedy, this. The expense, of survival, seems like, too much, the bank, is closed, the stadium, is being renamed. Sure, I used to clown, and act silly, is it really any wonder, that I’ve wound up, as somber, and morose, as I, have? All smiles, and awards, for him, twins, French speaking, girlfriends, and all the rest, of it. The labels, aren’t fancy, I assure you, if the hymn, went a little, bit,. slower, I could dub, a beat, into it. Alright, it is time, to get really, crazy, okay, okay. We will bring up our points, and be defused, or, we’ll say nothing, there isn’t any way, that a pleasant drive, in the country, is going to take place, this afternoon. Sometimes, for hours, or, at least, what feels like, hours, I open, and close, the rolling portion, of my roll top, desk. Russia, is the greatest country, in the world, and they know, how, to really, live. When, for some reason, I pulled out, that old memento, I was thrown, into such a painful, state, that I felt, pressed, into a milk box, while still, alive. These recordings, have been fiddled, with, there is a kind of a, canyon, we’re ready. So many years ago, back when fourteen dollars, was a lot of money, the sculptural artwork, of the typewriter, keyboard, didn’t fit in, sitting next to, the inner machinery, of the phone. Well, sure, I can yodel, maybe, not that well, but, I can. Nobody, nothing, can help, us. Jump off the terrace. Optimism, is foolishness.
I am, the second coming, and, the future, all rolled up, into one. Sit, and calm, down, I, most certainly, did. You are so, calm. Before I go deaf, and blind, this book, will get, done. Crave, today, and leave the drugs, behind. Nothing is satisfactory, or, satisfying, any longer. A little, cheese corn, will cure you, of your distress. We’ve got to get past, the third divider, and remove the barriers, we’ve set into play. When starving, looking at a well fed, mouth, can illicit, anger. We had better, get used to, the fact, that there is no butter, in the house, because, there is no butter, here. The groundless, case, needs to be tossed out, of court. Keep in mind, the, cake, when worried, about the long, ride, home. I want to see my pornos, tonight, my income, is totally inappropriate, for someone, my age, education, and experience. What has been set in place, that can’t be, torn down? The hot air balloon, ride, is, over. Peppered, with perversion? He fought the fire, for hours, but, was not thanked, or credited. So much, becomes, so, little. Time, the clutching, and releasing, so as, to reach, an apex. I want to go back in time, and see what kind of , “party,” those two, had in mind. I was loyal, as a parade dog. They’re apt, to like, best, what was thrown in, as a lark, an afterthought. I can’t take, another caffeine overdose, not, now. You are, no doubt, going through, some weird, changes, we all, are, puberty, never seems, to, end. I say, that I, “can’t fail,” but, I probably, will, in fact, I, very likely, shall. If caught, act stupid, you know, ignorant. It is fine, to split hairs, and right/write, wrongs. There’s nothing like, a nice, steamy, night, at a burlesque, on a cold, winter, evening, to cheer you, up. The further, you fall, the better, the shivers, of the hunt, the shivers, of the hunt. Doors, are always, going to be, opening, and closing, don’t pay any attention, to them. Lightning, struck, the tree, and split it, exactly, in half. There is such a long, long, way, to go, everything about me, has gone, horribly, wrong. Once the brain, has had a taste, it wants to be, on drugs, and it uses, the, body, against, its will, to gratify, its insatiable, demand, for eventual, destruction, through, momentary, ecstasy. The blood bath, was a long, time, coming, to say the least. There are, definitely, a few things, that I’ve got to get together, and get together, fast. My eye, is twitching, and going crazy, save me. Funny, isn’t it, how this is the end, and not, that, which, really, should have, been? Our violent urges, are cold, impotent, hollow. We’re trapped, in this socioeconomic, mileu. I, never once, asked, why, he called me, David. The dead, look like, they’re resting. We try our best, and accept the rest, the leftovers, the remainder. What ails, me, either, already, does, or, shortly, will, ail, everybody. More people, need to, do it, and not waste, time, and energy, thinking about, it. Human eyes, when kept awake, for too long, begin to, not only, play tricks on us, but, to flutter, and flicker, in such a way, that, I’m on, well, I was, on, some kind of race, against death. (I lost). Everything, is the same, with slight, variations. Throw it all, in our faces, it’s common knowledge, we’re ready, for it. I am a nobody, going nowhere, and, now, it’s less, than that. Why in the hel,l did George, say, what he said, to me? What will/would, happen, to the tension, if we were all, well off, or, even, slightly, successful? We are going to bloat, puff up, and die. The veins, in my arms, are the most attractive things, about me. Someone else, is going to wind up, owning, all of our, ideas (if, we, have any), anyway. The supermarket, became a purgatory, I emerged, from the murky river, or, was it, someone, else? The pianist, had a great imagination, but, it didn’t do him, any good, everybody, just wanted to hear, the same, old, boring, famous, pieces, written by some, cold, dead, European. The bitter, tastes, sweet? Why are the crows, cawing, outside… oh, it’s, 5:21 A.M. My dreams, are average, boring, and ordinary, my career, is over, my blood, is tainted, all I have, in my head, are other people’s, things. I’m out, on the loading dock. Keep away, from (Kansas City) extreme, temperatures. 1978, came, and, went. The unions, and management, are ringing around the rosies, of their own, assholes. Lose some, weight! The next day, the birds, were still, singing, but, I didn’t hear, them. Too much, comes down, to, luck, and luck, ends, stops, runs out. There aren’t any facts, in here. Tighten, and then, release. It can get, rather, difficult. Write small/smell/not at, all. Learn a few lessons, from a drunk. What I thought, was in the courtyard, was only, in, my imagination.
I owe, more than I can, pay (I’m not talking about, money). Something, had to, occur (and, boy, did it, ever). There is nothing in the bar, except, shame, waiting, to happen. There is no money, absolutely, no money. My little, scratch post, was like, a strangely placed, hair. Noodle the pellets, that is, get wise. The food, was not bread, but, we were led to believe, that it was, most of us, still don’t know, what it, was. This is a sort of, shuffle, but, I’m still, so repressed, I want to rub my ears, on the furniture. The Latin newspapers, reported news, of a sexual, nature. Pleasure me, I mean, I need, legal representation. If I deliver, an article of legislation, don’t be, too alarmed. It never, ever, pans out, our plans, for dinner, and everything. All I want to do, is fuck, teenage girls, I mean, uh, improper conduct, is discouraged, due to my strong sense, of ethics. The sports utility vehicles, seem to be trying, purposefully, to force me, off the road. No one teaches us, how to urinate, properly. We’re constantly, and consistently, charged, too much. Now, we are going to have, a shake, and rattle, contest. Oh, the follies; indeed, indeed. What the hell, did you inhale the gas, for? Momentum, can only carry you, forward, so far, at which point, it becomes, something else. Of course, I’m expressing, discomfort, there’s always, discomfort, what else, is new? Laughter, mixed in, with tears. To the death, obsessed: be careful. Lead, has a lot to do, with the way, we act, that, and, asbestos. The screams, coming from the audience, are not good, healthy, positive, screams. We are hopelessly, addicted, to life. Ingenuity, hard work, perseverance, and dedication, overcome, formidable, obstacles. We all have hopes, vain/glorious, and, the other kinds. I don’t know how, I managed to, do it, but, I wound up, damaging myself, beyond repair. Let us, get to the more thrilling parts, of the amusement park, rides, and forget about things, such as the carousel, that ceaselessly, revolves, around, and around. Hopefully, this retarded cycle, of mine, is almost, over. The taste, of artificial apples, isn’t memorable, but, it’s nearly, as memorable, as, say, orange. This is some kind of hurdy gurdy, thing, that isn’t going to go away, is it? Stop grabbing, and scratching, your privates, lifting, and pushing. There are things, that you, don’t, do, I, did them, and this hell, I’m in, is the consequence. When I sent that voodoo object, to you, I had no idea, that the whole thing, would be taken, so seriously. I’m not thinking, very well. My eventual, death, will not startle, anybody. My troubles, are of the ordinary, boring, and average, kind. This pain, is too, too, severe, and it has no, known, cause. All the moths, were the size, of birds, there was no one, on the street. There is, just, no way, that I’m going to climb around, and on top, of that thing, in my present, condition. The full meaning, of large appliance, repair, is beyond, words. I don’t wake up, in the morning, either, I never sleep, or I… forget it. Right now, I am crying, uncontrollably, due to the, ceiling. Where is that photo, of the girl of the week? Tongues, stuck in vaginas, the emergency room, personnel, were, stunned. Don’t let inertia, do, to you, what it’s done, to millions, of others, including, me. Think twice, the electro-chemical, alignment, flips, without warning. Word is, on the street, that the terror of being, wasn’t so bad, as to make us, not only run, and hide, but, blow our brains, out. We’re elongated, and jealous, stupid. We shit, have meals, and engage, in flatulence, of the mouth, as well as, the ass. There is no future, in this, I want there, to be, but, I’ve, “wanted,” many things, in the past, that I’ve never, gotten. Something big, is going to happen, mark this page, these words. It will be, just, splendid. Washington D.C. is a joke, it isn’t the glory, rah-rah, of anybody’s, wet dream, they are an instrument, only, an, instrument, in a bureaucracy, which has gotten too big, for itself, to even, be one, anymore. This is not, a new kind, of, cologne! Crush it, like a snail, in the kitchen. You were hypnotized, into giving, all that, information. It slipped out, as easily, as it slipped, in (a dire, warning). Tey keep the secrets, remarkably, well.
We’ll get back to that, soon enough. This is elapsed, synapse, time. Some of us, are in, and out, of the bathroom, so fast, it’s as if, we were never, even, in there, others, take, a little bit, longer. I am the weather, it works, through me, I know I’ve said this, somewhere, before, but, as crazy, as I am, it’s not crazy, enough, to enact, any kind, of real, change. Don’t let too much baking soda, or, epsom salts, ruin your day. My condolences, to your family, of course, I’m sure, you’ll question, my sincerity. So many groups, are so angry, at me, that there is no way, that I’m going to ride that horse, side saddle, for any amount, of money. I demand, some cooperation, here, the empty pocket, game, has grown, tiring. The starvation quotient, cannot be, overemphasized, enough. Parts of our necks, aren’t. There is no time, alone, we’ve got a schedule, to keep. Just, reach in, and grab, whatever, and whoever, you want. Well, I think some statute of limitations, has gone into effect, um, oh, tiger lilies. Don’t get (her), pregnant! Do more, get less. Well, I’ve never played a part, in, anything, by choice, but, afterwards, there’s always, that, “what could have, been,” thing. It’s so easy, to get, so sick, of everything. Twelve years ago, this week: the (sharpen your pencil) institution, the medicine, the doctors, and social workers, etc. I want to perfect, the art, of touching myself, market, some, sort of, how-to, manual. That slip, those shoes, this photo spread, must have been, all about, Alabama. We’ve wasted, more than enough, time, worrying, about how dry, and chapped, our lips, are. The pure, clean, and simple, won’t be, for long. We’re going to great lengths, right now, to balance, everything, out. When your arms, start to look like plastic, maybe a nap, is in order. My writing, sucks! The light, is now, on, we can move, at will. As I walk, all I can think, is, I am the master, of this planet. The tokens, have all been used, sweetie. We’re stuck, with this solar heating, system, forever. Strings, are what are required, now. Remove yourselves, from, the whirl. The shit, is in the crease. The symphony, gave me ideas, about suicide, and murder, these ideas, are not, nor, have they, ever…The party, didn’t work out, like I planned. The fix, has been let loose, on us. Don’t worry, when I finally, do, snap, you’ll know about it, everyone, will know about it, and, more. Science, is, a religion. Don’t try to persuade, a jumper, not to do, it. I lost the role, of Jesus, to some guy, with more stage experience. The frozen ice, on the window, was glistening, sparkling. Like a can, of poison, meat, opened. Scam your way, to better days. I hate everyone, and everything, to the core, of my pathetic, being(s). There is only this, for me. I on’t think, that I want, to know. It’s do-able, now, do it. My stomach, isn’t growling, because it’s empty, or, “hungry,” it isn’t even the stomach, making the noise, at all, but, the lower bowels, digesting, whatever was, consumed. We’ve all got to prove, that our own, little, pep talks, aren’t in vain, my pie, has been, baked. Things, get worse, and this fact, is driving me, more than, crazy. My lost arms, are all that I’m, concerned with, right now. Phone calls, will not be returned, for now, under any circumstances. Thank goodness, that death, takes this frightful, shitty, pointless, thing, called life, from us. My face, looks exactly, like a fat pair, of swollen, buttocks. The canvases, in here, have all been, painted over, at least, three, times. Help me, get over, this boredom, I have completely, and totally, retired, myself, from life, which is a game, that I invented. All tricks, have been tried, they were, honest, tricks, but, they were, still, tricks, and, they failed. I’m back, at square one. Ring your pussy, around the doorknob, no, I insist. Wind out of the circuit, like a slow, stuck, shaft. The baroque, it is no coincidence, that the state, is always, at full employment, when I’m, not working. Climb atop it, whatever it, is. I will live, more realistically, dramatic. Trying to sleep, in a train, is very similar, to how it is, in jail. You’ve got to forgive me… There will be no, movies. How many, per, page?
Now, for the big list, of opposite things, that are really, the same. The birds, will fly, the fish, will swim. Was that a butterfly, or, a dying bird, back there? Why is it, that no one, ever, wins, this race, that it’s run, for no reason? There is no dog, to walk, right now. It goes, from one, to the, other. There is nothing, but, hard, hard, work, in front of me, and zero, guarantees. My hair, is like a, tableau, when I read, that interview, I was so thankful, that I didn’t have to pay, to do, so. I haven’t had any thoughts, about, “book girl,” in quite, some time. Don’t come driving up, in a big, bus, and expect me, to get on it. When I pulled that glass, down off the top, of the desk, I meant it. How many hours, in a row, can one person, be expected, to sit, in one place? When I made love, to the tree, I may have been, pushing the envelope, a little bit. My, “motive,” was my, misogyny. The mental preparation, is tough, but, it’s the only way, to get to anything, other, than being awed, by every, new, franchise store, or, restaurant, that pulls into, or, out of, town. Linda, you’re a, bitch. My hope, is that all, big businesses, all amoral, and unethical, piece of shit, huge ass, companies, suffer, horribly, for years, and go out of business, damn you, all! I hate myself, only, because, I hate, so many, other people, so much…it’s rubbed off, on me. There is no, innuendo, there is, blatant, perverted, self-promotion. The piano, made for a great, makeshift, bed during the, “babysitting years.” It would stain, it always, stains. The rehearsal, wasn’t going well, at all. Our heads, can be horrible, or, wonderful, places, to be. We are saved, from certain, death, by the failure, of language. Watch the firecrackers, park your ass, in neutral, oh, I can’t pretend, that anything, I’ve ever done, is interesting. The delicateness, of sleep, has its dark, and fully awake, sides, as we all, know. I used to mock, myself, it didn’t get me, anywhere, I gave it up. After awhile, a long, while, it’s not so difficult, to get funded. Life is so, so, boring, death, has no feelings, or, perceptions, thus, it, is preferable. I remember you, from Hector’s, old bar, back in, 1970, you were the one, with, three, haircuts. Milky, is losing steam, he’s sick of himself, anyone, can fuzz off, a horse’s shaft. The synapses, still need to be engaged, by stimuli. After killing myself, I came back, as this, person. The ideal, gone. Whatever happened, to your, cross/bell, hypotheses? If this, were for school, I would’ve, flunked. Phil, what happened? I must be more, awake, if not, more, alive. Nothing, but, harpsichords, all the time, twenty-four hours, a day. Flank her, like a, steak. The concrete barriers, kept the elephant’s, in. Nobody can help us, and nobody, will. The left leg, is doing its (tool and dye/die) jackhammer, imitation, again. Flatfooted, strawboss, off, with your head! Who invented, this government? You will publish this, or, am I prepared, to sue you. The pipe, we need, to attach, this thing, here, to that one, there, will cost us, at least, eighty dollars, or, more. So many fruits, on the counter. The priceless, vestibule act, is a mask, for my scent. When I woke up, in Kansas, that time, not knowing, how I got there, I was more, concerned, than afraid. We are not allowed, to build an iron lung, out of the scraps. You lied to me, about the landmines, you son of a bitch. The chicken coop, is empty, while, before, it was, full. There need to be, a great, many, risks, taken, or, we’ll have, what we have, and nothing, more. Once the public, unleashes its wrath, on you, for any reason, you’re more through, than through, you might as well, be, done. It takes a strange, sort of, energy, to continue to do, egotistical, things, when you know, goddamn, well, that you have no right, to even, have, an ego. No, the greatest hits, game, is no longer, played. Oh, I see, so, there was, actually, a plan, a plan, of what to do, if the first plan, didn’t pan, out, mmm, hmm, what the heck, is it? I am the exact opposite, of me, or, maybe, I’m just, fooling myself. We’re unidentified, seated, objects (U.S.O’s). We’re all wrecked, to one degree, or, another. Well, you know, no matter how, it happens, death, is never, pleasant. Give the people, what they, want (the lowest, common, sorts, of things).