028

It used to be, “Eric, get me out of here,” now, it’s, sit still, and deal with it! Plan…organize…control! Hollywood, is a virus, that’s spreading, and has got to be, stopped! Remember what happened, on 2/9/94! No matter what, happens, no matter what, happens, what I need to do, needs to get, done. Looking back, at what has, happened, there is no way to…it’s not normal. Our, oh, so, important, such, and such, isn’t. Duh, uh, here is a list of damages, that the tornado, wrought. We’re not doing a very good job, of sticking to our diets. The only stable thing, becomes very, very, unstable. We lost it, for awhile, yeah, we get it back, but it’s different, then. Please, don’t slam her on the table, like dough. Forget about, the vegetable burgers! We’re right at ground zero, there is no one, to help. The reverse of this, is going to start occurring, soon. It’s a race, something, is really wrong, and we’ve got to find out, what it is. Very shortly, it is going to be necessary, to do something, else. We get, what we demand. Hint-hints, are needed! Don’t keep looking at the ceiling! It seems like I’ve been in here, a really, long time. Maybe, I really did, belong in the halfway house, after all! Our attitudes, are what’s killing, us. There is wind, in my veins, all of the sudden. It’s about being ready for cancer, and out of cigarettes. Break the sticks, in the backyard, and put them in piles. We all hate each other, we’re always here. Four people, who can’t walk, are really pissed, at us. Someone, may yell something, to you, someday. Things of the utmost, importance, often, appear to be meaningless, on the surface. Being mentally ill, is not cool, or profitable. Boredom, is the killer, it comes from being sick, of oneself. There is always hair, in my mouth, tension, in the air. It’s not really, Saturday, right now? Check this, check that, create, a competitive edge. Not one word, that I uttered, in that diner, made any sense. Why is it, that after all I’ve done, I’m weak? Give me a pair, of cast off, hooks? How can we be of better service, to you? The next person, to undo, what I have done, will perish. Suck her pussy, until there is nothing left, to suck? We need, better lives. All calls, as low as, 1.99/minute! Crooked teeth, hide behind, strange looking, mouths. They can only lead us in, so far, at which point, it’s up to us. I’ve become, the kind of person, who incessantly, moves his legs, around. Why should we walk on eggshells, around these, troublemakers? Puff it all, up! Don’t reproduce! You got away with it, I can’t remember, one thing, that happened, yesterday. Train as a specialist, not a generalist, or, suffer the consequences. Try the same scene, with a nursery rhyme, in the background. Have a drink, for the tumors, within you. Super paranoid, of terrorism, my goal, is not to be sane. Stop arguing, about Golden Boy’s, future! What is the quickest way, to dive? Nothing is getting any, better. Were the 50’s, kind, to you? There are opportunities, that you better, take. That couldn’t be, no way! You can probably, imagine, by now, why I see so many, movies. The blue kite (long gone). Shove your computer/technology, nonsense, I’m not buying it (literally). Why is it, that so few of us, grow up? Do it, now, or forever, hold your tongue. Someone, called me a name, in Yiddish, another person, gave me a lawnmower, for free. See, one person’s, problem, becomes everyone, around’s, problem, too. Take a bowl, and throw it, into the yard. Two people’s, skin, touch, an electrical event, takes place. I noticed the bruises. Writing this book, has been an excuse, for my entire life, not, just the last, couple, of years. The tape recorder, is broken. I want money, in fact, I need it, require it. I have no one to blame, but, myself. It’s (was), only, jealousy. We’re all a bunch of fuck ups, up in arms. No, nude, cheerleaders, are allowed, whilst, editing. People, are going to push your buttons, if you’ve got any, to push. Yes, only Chris, can talk about, the cannolli’s. Something, is very wrong, today. Acknowledge your stupidity, and move on. What do we think, we’re doing? A fight, is about to start, there is always a fight, starting. For years, and years, I’ve worked on this book. Her neck, is too clean, or, at least, it was, when I knew her. We’re not interested, in your time released, dramas! The need to be angry, constantly, does not lead to contentment. This little project, just might wind up, being over, before it is, there is no money, in it…It’s too much work, to make absolutely, no money. But, it’s 150 miles, to Pittsburgh. All the order, went that-a-way. I am now, an asshole. We ned a lot ore, information. The beginning, isn’t strong, enough.
Click – this, after I finally fall off the chair, for the last time – off. Stay behind the velvet rope, there is nothing going on, inside there, anyhow. The basket of cheese, is for you. We’re a bunch of moist towelettes, being used, and discarded. Is there any plan, that I haven’t, subconsciously, nixed? We talked about high wire, trapeze artists, playing, ding, dong, ditch. Observation, entails, watching the world, pass you by, and, it’s what writers, do. It takes a lot of energy, to be a loser. I had cramps, and just (went the sleazy, route), fell out of the observation tower. Cringe, now! A whole new wardrobe, is just, not financially feasible, right now. Bark out, like some kind of deranged, animal. Of course, she looked just like my ex-girlfriend, but, better, how else, could she have, looked? Even the school, was just a dream. Take the curve, at high speed, deer, or no, deer. Give me the keys, to, “the secret.” Who do I think, I am, breezing in, and out, of rooms, as I do? I try to say, what I can’t, I don’t say, very much. The “foxy favor,” returned, our melons, became spoiled. We’re lost, in the fade. Too much fussing, and fretting, leads to frustration, anarchy, forewarning, of some kind of space, or the other. The struggle, is essential, unless, it goes on, way, too long. Delicate, and sensitive, won’t get you very far, in life. Four, sixty second spots, by Friday, no problem. Caught, busted, do you still, suppose, they’ll, “just let you go, this time?” It would be too much, to ask, to get, shit canned, now. Having already done, the other thing, I am trying, very hard, to appear, normal. The events, or times, are quiet, still, noisy, pointless, distracting, nothing. I’m told, that I’ll never get a job, with this skrimsish, on me. Using your brain, at your job, usually, means, that you observe mold, and bacteria cultures. In the end, could it be, the big, black, zip, will comfort, us? How many times, we have to go through the same shit, until we, learn! For ten years, now, I have frothed at the mouth, and twitched, like a bird, with a broken neck. Exhausted, by having nothing to do? Another love object/distraction, from what I really, should be, doing. Let Little Miss, Show Her Tits, blow her money, and turn in sub par, slop a year late, what should it matter, to you? The teller, took a half an hour, to cash a two hundred dollar, check. Curling, effervescent, new candy, floods the market, and people, who don’t know any better, buy, buy, buy. Lift off, has been postponed. There is never a lack, of anything to smash, on the soap opera. I was dismissed, from jury duty, for having no recognizable, peers. It’s like a switchblade surprise, in a parking lot, one of those, “how could it happen, to me,” things. I thought that I’d surprise, everybody, what will really, happen, is that I’ll wind up, embarrassing, myself. I stumbled upon the grain elevator, which was an absolute, thrill. The songs we, wrote, are not recorded, ever! Humidity, longs, to attach, to us. I got the look, today, it brought back, unpleasant memories, of many other, such, “looks,” that never, lead to good things. Label, what it is, as the same, as what happened, before. Circle the guy with the beard, in the insurance agents, group photograph. My shame, over too many, things, won’t let me leave, this poverty, destitution, this miserable, life situation. Can you see, what I’m attempting, to do, here? Boneless, skinless, souls, revolve, around the town, in a hurry. Narrative, is a wet sock. I used to pretend, that she was already, my wife. We are not quite, able. They will invent, many more things, to waste our lives, with. As a typist, my skills, are not very, sound. I remember watching my hair burn, in the campfire, it turned into burned cheese, curls, plastic things. He grabbed, blue corn, he knew, it was blue corn. Slammed, we get the urge, to slam back, and must, resist it. What makes it wrong, per se? Hesitation, at the turnstile, is a sign, that you don’t want to do, what it is, that you’re doing. It’s a good idea, not, to want to be, a movie star/rock icon. There isn’t going to be any quotation, to pin on the wall, out of here. I think, I can figure out the hoist, pretty, goddamn quick, on my own, but thank you, for offering, “training.” Salute, gradually, don’t let them, make you, hurry. The more television, we watch, the more useless, we are. It’s so funny, how we trip, and fall, and can’t get back up, again. We’re gonna’ jump up, and down! After the next witch hunt, who will remain, to fold the flag, neatly? The wait, for a yay, or a nay, when entire lives, depend on someone else’s, decision, is just about, too much to bare, or take. I’m more radical, in person, which means, the opposite. Smear the shit, onto the page, with your foot. Don’t go, too fast. We live with the terror, now.
A head start, on tomorrow, I called it. We’re looking for more free reign, than we have, at present. What the hell, is it, that we spend all our energy, searching for? This book, most likely, won’t even be, finished, much less, published. I honestly, can’t take it, anymore, this is some kind of pressure, that I, just, can’t stand. Nothing about the experiment, can be recalled. To live an entire lifetime, without a candlelight dinner, isn’t as big a deal, as you might think. Leave it, blank. Chart, and graph, the creative environment. The biology teacher, was an asshole. Someone, to make things, happen, is a difficult person, to find. You’ve spent too much time, trying to perfect, your character. We’ve got plenty, of, rags. Cross the appointment, out of your book. Act polite, and professional, and all that. We imagine, that if we were only, so, and so, until we achieve/get, that, then, it’s something else, in the way, or, to be achieved, before, etcetera. I’m an absolute failure, as a father. Maybe, it’s just a Midwest, thing, but, I doubt it. I got kicked out of the restaurant, again. I am not suave, debonair, sexy, pretty, I can’t even, fake it. Accidents, cause lane closures, go along with the crowd. The form, has been left behind. Make yourself, make it. You’ll be mortified, of something, some day, too. The state line, strip search, had me hopping over, barbed wire, fences, hiding, in oil barrels…Please, Sir, or Ma’am, could I have a job (any, job)? It actually, works. Time, has passed. Stunt acting, downer frenzies, suckers, yes men, floaters, losers, psychos, freaks, put down the cold cuts. In the name, of human stupidity, stop, just, stop doing, what you’re doing. The painter, painted something, that didn’t necessarily, need, painting. Books, don’t end up telling, the whole truth, or, even, part, of the story, all told. We could be geniuses (or, something, altogether, different). Dull, lifeless, insane…Wherever I go, I’m there, one of those antsy/artsy, types, but, not even, really. Maybe, someday, our warped sensibilities, will work, for us, rather than, against. Be more Chinese, than most Chinese, people. We chant, and eat rice, act the part. Come back to that, in awhile, for now, we have to invent, new things, that will be completely, forgotten, in ten years. People, will get on top of tables, and jump off, but, so what? What sells, well, today, will be in the half off, bin, tomorrow. This is a stretched out, flake, of something, that fell out of my head. We have to act tough, but, we look so ridiculous, in our attempts, that we just go back, to being the schmucks, we are. Take away my car keys, make me live life, differently. It’s so hard, that it’s easy, and easy, that it’s hard, to do, most all, things. Slide into, and out of, the driveway, make it look like you’ve got places, to go and people, to meet. Is it all we thought, it would be? Our brains, aren’t, real. Pick an industrial park (any one, will do). People, see right through, the masks, I thought, were, translucent. One more round, I suppose. I will soon, be rich, and none of that crap, will matter, anymore. Sleep, wake, hour, minute; companies, are looking for someone, just like, you! Will we ever, have our own, lives? Our hero phases, of… who the fuck, cares? Wink, like, Shalom. It needs, what it, needs. The fake, digital sign, amused, most, everyone. Our fascination, betrays us, our intrigues, are faked. Blink, and life is over, there simply, isn’t enough time, to jack off, and fuck around, which is all, any of us, really, want to do, anyway. Messages, sent? Get into, the such-ness! Testing… operational… too many springs, have passed, to even care, what year it is, anymore. Tell them what it, is. I’ve painted my last, bowling alley. Mr. Newell, I’d like to apologize. When does a warning, become a threat? The truth, of my fat ass, bothers me, a great deal, but, I’ve got to keep that secret, being male, and all. My spine, is, not working. Mouthwash, makes us cheat, on ourselves. We are punching bags, for the violent. This is what it’s like, to be “sick.” The night janitor, has emptied all the trash cans. Not caring, at all, what the score of the game, is, we ask, anyway. On paper, there are way more, qualified people, sure. We can work out the details, later? The VP of marketing, is very, pissed. How many years, are left, on my seven years, bad luck, mirror breaking, sentence? Put the crucial information, in brackets, not that anyone, will look at it, anyway. Modern, myth making, of a particular kind, is simply, not occurring. Don’t resent (we lost the games), graciousness. Informality, the sponge thing, for instance, has been overplayed. Silk, would seem to be oozing, out of the worms, ass. Seek as much money, as you can, in as many different areas, as possible. The stage, collapsed, there will be no more plays, this season. Look up the address, now, what is this, “I’ll do it, later,” shit? Cogs, aren’t seen, as all that, important, in the running, of the machine. The truth, flashes into our heads, too fast, and, not very often. As for the usual categories, to fill in, fuck it. Avant garde, is a nice word, for crazy, or, insane. Whatever I fear, will not, go away. People, walk up to the everyman, and say things to him, that ordinary people, wouldn’t say, to anyone. We call the dog, baba, for lack of any other name, to use, for him. No one, will throw you a bone, when you need, a steak. Naturally, we have no control, of anything, whatsoever. Interests (passions), must be included, on your list, of practical, philosophical, concerns. The forest, is a highway median, we’re very confused, this is the telltale, sound, of pressure. Destroy the mechanism, not to put too fine a point, on it. We find out how stupid, we’ve become, “all of the sudden.” This is only, pretend. I’ve long, since, lost it. You will, no doubt, face a lot, of obstacles.

027

It seems to be averaging out, to an hour, and a dollar, a page. If everything, doesn’t go, fuckhead’s, way, he quits, he drops out, he says, “fuck it.” Remember the playground, rocking horse? There were seventy-five, disk outtakes, this is your assignment, there isn’t any, other. We’ve fallen into some kind, of half-animal, state. There are more than a few things, I didn’t get around, to burning. We wait for our checks, turn the paper, back into liquid, the driving teacher, was crazy. The insanity, of habit, makes us all, the most screwy. Using words like fuck, shit, and kill… is not allowed. Go, every way, from whichever, angle. A woman, is getting her legs, waxed, another, is getting her nose, fixed, here comes the depression. The Board of Directors, told me, in no uncertain terms, that I was full of shit. Dr. Cohen, is coy, yes. This is almost as good, as back flips, under the apple tree, with her, around. The scientific method, was skewed, my goal, is to engage myself, in things, rather than planning, waiting, thinking, hoping, and wishing. The bag, was opened. You can’t just, “throw something together,” and expect it to be, successful. There is no echo, here, drop dead, gangly. We need to write an outline, in brief, of our thesis. How is it, that I’m so screwed, now, by things I did, way back, then? Enough of this wormy, valiant, mind suck. I am not interested, in copy machines, of any kind! The restrictions, will be in effect, until the reinstatement fee, is paid. Remember back, to the glorious feelings, of having a substitute teacher. What does it, mean? The kiss, occurred, while her boyfriend, went into the gas station. Tape that book, back together, like you said you were gonna’, do. This is torment, not to get too dramatic, about it. Last call, last call, for alcohol, indeed. Keep your pencils, sharp, at all times. If nothing changes, nothing changes. Elves, gnomes, dwarves, psychopaths, neurotics, addictions, you’re digital, you’re bubbly. Let’s try, going out of order. Where the hell do we go, from here? Furs, paint, bridges, valued customers, cram the knowledge, in. I’ve been in a newsroom, and know how it works. I used to imagine that my future was going to be very different, from what it actually, wound up, being. One mistake, was seen to be the cause, of the other. Go to the welcome mat, ah, the old ball field. [?][!]. Self motivation, and direction, are required, in regards to, work. Someone, accused my book, of being journal entries, or free association, experiments. It is not cool, what horrible things, keep happening, to good people. A car wash, can put a lot of things, into perspective. We did weird things, with gourds, no one questioned it. Save the day old, bagels! Getting laid, should not, be a prime motivator, for anyone, it probably, is, for everyone. Evidently, I am not going to the right places, because, everywhere…unburden. If you see straw wrappers, or other scraps of paper, in the customer area, please, pick them up. Some people, will be missed, others, won’t. Destroy retail… Alone, isolated, crazy, a writer? Take several thousand more, photographs, do not let anybody, read this; montages, structures, just, go down every aisle. We could get a three pronged, toilet paper dispenser. We must do, what we’re unwilling, to do, apparently. No, I will not act normal, for you. It’s been ten years, we can’t resist, what we really are, for very long. We do, or, we don’t. I’ve made promises, I couldn’t keep, and I have lied. Try not to get, less than, less than. You suck. Nevermind what’s written, on the ball, throw it. Punting, is not an option. I was right, she is, from Sweden. What’s called for, now, is a lighthouse, but they’ve all crumbled, into the sea. Their fantastic fashions, don’t contain even one, piece of lint. I don’t know what you want me to do for you, or what sorts of pains, you want me, to relieve. The screaming, we heard, was very, high pitched. There was a mobster, in the car, I could tell by the way he moved his head, around. Shutter, shudder, this is all repetitive, nonsense. You’re acting as if this, is what it is, please, grant me some leeway. We want to do the things, we aren’t allowed, to do, first, and foremost. We’ll make it, to the last page. A great deal, of pain, has been, caused. Nothing is fresh, everything, is stale, to paraphrase, a great deal. Give me back the brush, hole! The worst thing, is that, soon, I have to, go. Separate, yourself, from, it. Make up excuses, for your shoddy performance, at the roller derby, championships. Am I writing, having a stroke, or copying, out of my head? Ring the bell, grab your balls, throw the coin, etc. Let stillness, flutter into the clubhouse. Simple, crushing, backbreaking, nimble, numbing, reprogram, reprogram, stay home, again. Plant the seeds, wait, and see. A great many, things, can’t be explained. Not, now… It’s, total deterioration, at this point.
One kiss, can begin a cycle, of lies, and half truths, like you wouldn’t believe, possible. A digital overdose, is assaulting the class, some fat kid, falls out of his desk. The commute, is too long. My dreams, are always shattered, at, or, at about the time, that they begin to materialize, or crystallize. Serve the Chinese cheese. Did we do our rounds, or counts? It all curves off, into the dark wilderness. There is nothing within walking distance, from here. Interupt the regularly, scheduled broadcast. We’re told, many things, will soon change. I really, don’t know, what the hell, happened. Don’t treat me like a sissy, I know you want us all, out of here. There will be a lot more, boredom. Is there anything, new? The pillow, is dirty. The headless deer, was brought into the room, mounted on the wall, a spectacle, takes place, an absolute, spectacle! Where am I going, with these huge circles, in my head, and out on the streets? Who can we hire, to replace our bathtub? You must be yawning, as you read this. They might, call back (nobody is ever going to call us, back)! Another customer copy, receipt, message to policy holder, customer assistance, phone number. If you can’t read a word, put asterisks, in their place. Blow in her ear, or, blow out her brains? These are not “student ghettos,” we’re living in the real thing, now. I am a writer, in the community, looking to expand my horizons, there is no diplomacy. How can anyone, ever, really know, what happens, anywhere? Give me my book, back, you, “borrower.” Sir, all in all, your company, screwed me. Think up at least, a hundred ways, to say, good job. Slowly, painfully, we grow. Don’t want, or can’t have, a career? Don’t mention the fact, that there isn’t any bread, in the house. There is more than one thing, that needs to be stopped. This may not be the normal, routine, way, that employment, is sought. The only problem, is that there isn’t a solution! The new job, didn’t work out. Somehow, nothing counts, or matters, yet. Come back here, after being there, and staying, as long as I did? Try to stop the orb, from throbbing, this is unreal. Whose funeral precession, in progress, did I snap a picture, of? Prescribe us a medicine, that works. Clear, order, fix. Watch this space, for what will be worth caring about, next. Kalamazoo, became a new kind, of Mecca, the cop, yelled into my car, “remember me?” Every shortcut, prolongs the agony. Never trust anybody, who flunks logic, or ethics. The thing, is so rat trap, effective. These hippie words, we must invent new words. I don’t like travel, I do like the brochures, though. The possibility of redemption, is so remote, as to be, largely, an impossibility. Tell them, just, tell them! Fireworks, and terror, suffering, storage facilities. Somebody, must have shrunk a can of grease, twelve degrees, smaller. Don’t make it any more, difficult. Our nerves, are shot, careers, are over, in this day, and age, you need, consistency. Those poly-blend, knee highs, can’t be resisted. I know, that it is, perhaps, necessary, to wear pants, to the office, from time to time. Shit, I feel like a golfer, sitting here. There is no fear, of death, there is the fact, of death. The echo, is just beautiful. Let go of my popsicle, you big, asshole. Nobody wants to know, know that. The graduate student, woman, is still there, at her table. All of the extrinsic, and intrinsic, rewards, are not really, satisfying. Don’t live your life, by accident. Perhaps, my own destruction, will help to enrich, somebody else’s, garden. All of us, are still here, sucking off the tits. So much happens, on a daily basis, that it isn’t really possible, to take note of it all, or even, some of it! Get rich, and famous, or else. Sneeze! The corpse, was luxurious. For our last requests, we’d like to just be able to drive to work, and have an ordinary day. Cum all over my face, rub your shit, on my chest, grab my balls, and twist hard. Fondle her, caress her, gently. The dog, only comes around, when there’s food, for him, to eat. Look, you owe me a ride, I want a ride, and you are going to give me, one! Taking advantage of people, is not the way to live. It’s getting harder, and harder, to take things, seriously, the opposite of this, is what…The bottom line, is that you people, you, make me, hate myself! Trick or treat, one house, at a time, kick. What seems, absurd, is. I have heard, and witnessed, such horrible things, in the last ten minutes, that no amount of writing, or transcription, of what just took place, could occur. Smell the downside, of the tape/makeshift, cotton product, you used to cover your wounds, with. No, no, no, not for you, permission, will not, be granted, for you, to do, that, no! How did this happen, how did this country, ever get so fucked up, royally? Menstruation smells, carpets, Corsican badges, drones, asparagus shaped, surprises. The library book, is lost, it’s hopeless… I’m sorry for all the trouble, I’ve caused. Stuff it in, randomly. The crying, is an even bigger, waste of time.
The smell of a zoo, is, by far, my favorite. Morally, and ethically, I’m beyond reproach (usually). Take everything I say, with a grain of salt. The plan, works, with, time, not, against it. Next exit, February! My “helper,” doesn’t need your charity. Read the warnings, on the label, believe in them. This shit, is not going to go on, too much longer. It would be greater than, excellent, to have a life. We don’t need a narrator, we just need, to actually, answer the questions, we ask of, ourselves. Perhaps, we all care too much, for ourselves. Everything I am, has gone into this, and, it’s not good enough. I’m just, not interested, in any of the banks, attempts, to serve their customers, better. Take home, drive through, as far as question #6, is concerned, now, I know what not, to do. I'm quite, dissatisfied. It's part of a process, that none of us, completely, understands. Our methods, of processing, suck. There was some kind of disturbance, regarding the properties. We don't want to keep hearing, discouraging, news. Sometimes, you just don’t want anyone, around, my head, feels like it’s going to explode. Show all work, attach extra sheets, if necessary. It is not quite, lunch time. What was it, about football that I needed to be, concerned, with? Delivering papers, at night? I can’t do it, anymore. You are of a, different era (great, swell). Nothing, which was previously labeled, completed, actually, was. We see, no reason. Spend your life, don’t, waste it. He is going to poison this atmosphere, for years, I, already, have. Most of my inanities, seem, planned. It must have been an overdose, of something, that caused all the words, I read, to be in 3-D, and those wavy, zapping, lines, bubbles! Pictures of naked women, with men, hold that thought, if you can. Can anyone here, write the proper equation? After your fellowship, start your own practice. Be very careful, who you choose. Wipe the spray-on stubble, off your baby face! My mouth, is giving off, fish smells, my hat, fell off, and went out the window. My pancreas, is acting up, there is always, just a swallow, left, with a drunk, in the house. We’ve all got to try harder, to make some kind of difference, in this absurd, chaotic, world. The speed, in which, you consume those alcoholic beverages, is not right, definitely, not, a good sign. For starters, we need to organize the order, of the thing. Panic, and faint, do a head tilt, and a chin lift; once a week, at least. I chased a couple of cars, down the street. Look at both, not just, one, or, the other. My x-ray, is pointed towards the floor. Don’t even try, to operate a motor vehicle, while under the influence. What I thought, was so interesting, really, wasn’t. Jump up, quickly, afterwards. Nothing I’ve ever done, has been worth it. The travesty, will continue. The key, to your life, and happiness, follows, on the next page. The “star of the show,” stops shining. Back to the table. This reminds me, of Mexico. Something, in some people’s, faces, seems to beam right into, the collective unconscious. It all comes back to, look both ways, doesn’t it? Critique the writer/actor’s, performances. So many problems, occurred, on the afternoon shift. Boil your own four star, clouds, out, and over. You did this, to me. I’d like to say, yes, but, no. The holiday’s, will not, be grim. Doing nothing, is harder, than it, looks. We need clean, crisp, original, material, and we need it, now. Keep them fooled, uh, I mean, interested. In my head, I’m hearing, sex noises. Oh, I can be quite charming, but, look out! The markets, that matter, are impossible, to break into. I’ve been sitting in here, so long! To be, is to be, anemic. Decry, in vain, pole sitter. Our freedom, is cruel, and unusual, controlled, manipulated, randomly. Senility, strikes, with no warning, rendering us, obsolete. The police, are going to throw you onto the ground, and arrest you, and you’ll sit in jail, for days, before you even know, what it is, you did. My very sickness, is making me, sick. Low IQ, means many, grave, problems, further on down, the line. Who knows, what sets people off, and sets them on goddamn, tizzies? My failure, as a writer, does not mean that I’m a failure, as a person. I got so drunk, that day, I saw the Governor, that, well, I won’t be getting any job, in government. To say that I’m upset, is an understatement. I toil, and struggle, I am so sick, of being a weak, and ineffective, person. I don’t know anything, I just do, what I do, and question, what it, is. I have come to believe, in all seriousness, that there is a conspiracy, against me, be that, as it may, I will not be defeated. Contrast the melon, with the knife. Reject, everything! I would appear to be stuck, in this self, unable to change. I began spiraling out of control, years ago. My vision, is fading, failing…

026

I “just can’t,” do, way too many, things. I’m just flipping through the pages, in a vain/vague, hope. Your frustration, is about as normal, as normal goes. As one wakes, another, goes to sleep. The billboard, lectured me, at length. And in the end, will sound, even more, hollow. The sinking, is a big part of it. About now, solar systems, are colliding, with one another. The fears, must be overcome, at all costs. Walk in, like a robot, to the bar, very few mammals, wear shirts, indeed. I just saw it (the secret Santa)! Rest assured, that the sincere, aren’t. Tsk-tsk. Baby, don’t kill the kids. She is certain, she could fill, any number, of available, roles. We don’t like, to be. They are famous, for no reason, their claims, are true. There are stipulations, to dying, too? Can’t we all, just adjust, to the new retirement home, staff? My leg, made me kick, the garbage can. We will not allow this testing, to continue. The spotlights, led to a shopping center, opening. Dumb people, make smart people, stupid. In dim light, everybody, looks just, super-duper. Toss off, to the potted plants, astronomically, small. Should I drive around, going nowhere, again? Every day, the toll booths, take in millions. Brag about…Put mustard, on a bun, eat it. This is a great beginning, to…end, with. There are many, second hand, products, to be sold. Forget all about the lost, squeaky toys. It’s such an easy thing, but it never, ever, works out, that way. Try a different tactic? It takes more than bad luck, to…She does not want to talk, to you. Goodness, my spine, is upside-down. Please send a copy, to Bob. Don’t stop, in the parking lot. Test positive, our point of view, minimizes the risk. I just want to finish this. How about basements, infested with snakes? Free associative, verse, yells, in your own face. Discriminate against squirt, squirts? Feel, zero. Write anything, anywhere, for anyone, hit the lever. In case of emergency, beliefs, are tools, we use, for interacting with the world, the wrong tools. My genetic defect, causes freakish weather. Break a piece of equipment. Who is here, now? Just because our evolution, stopped, don’t give up, giving off, that heat. We have real diseases. What is it, that I keep expecting, to happen? Without making any grandiose statements, using words, Francis, is crazy! The walls, of his self, ripple, like water. Finally, we’re left, with our own, empty heads. Even the Pope, is displeased. A crowd, gathers, and protests, cheers, randomly, “the sale, the sale.” Let’s play, guess the composer? Feeling cheapened, by the thrills? We eat nothing, but pancakes. Lust, is just the beginning, for a few, lucky, people. Who cares, anymore? The hardships, don’t get any softer, we’re waiting, for the real disaster. The sign, will never come. Don’t get caught, with the pencil, up your ass. The company, wants assurance, huh? Maybe, we’ll find out some more things, we don’t want to know. It was a grocery store, with no groceries. I’m quite justified, in my anger. We don’t know, what we want. You over fish, the waters. Fame, is like the margarine, you’ve got to hide. I can’t really, believe it. Scientists, keep finding shit out, everything except, the cure. The flim flam, flayed me. It’s one, versus, the other. This chippy business, isn’t fooling, nobody. The shelf, collapsed, I remember, it, collapsing! Write a history of lesbians, you’ll get rich, overnight. Nausea, precedes vomiting, in most cases. Collapse an old shelf, down. Just throw any, old crap, down, anything. Opulent, personnel offices, women, throwing legs, around chairs…They made such fabulous, potato salad. What’s wrong with us? We’re going to start speaking, with accents. News, of our findings, will be published, next month. You must have been (at least, slightly), able to tell, I loved you. 1587, my sister, is a mule, it is mosquito season, so much alcohol, was consumed, too much! Penis, equals vagina? We laughed, so hard, maybe, too hard. What was it, that she said, about poetry, being too easy, for her? Quite a row, in the lunchroom, today, eh? All of our wives, wind up, being disappointed, in us. Remember the shame, of having to stand in the hall. Twitch, double check your necktie. Don’t forget, the Amish chickens. The pain, is just a dull throb, now. Create uniformity! It needed, more.
Tacky, as pink neon, on a porno shop, facade. Let someone who wants, the hours, have them. Incompetence, impotence, impetuousness, innuendo, on, and on, we make the lists. The concert, was cancelled, moved, disturbed, angered. Do whatever it takes, be selfish, if need, demands it. We need some interesting, bumper stickers. Cubby holes, crawlspaces. Alicia, gets into an absolutely, insane, fistfight, with “Billy the Bully,” eventually, knocking him out. We’re trying to forget, we’re all, really crazy. Regulate the rich! The children, are dying, of starvation, in record numbers. When doom, total doom, falls on our heads, we don’t want to be told, to pray. Where are the words, that were going to be used, and reused, at will? Take up every other, line. My nose hairs, must double their length, by the hour. I want some chicken, on a real plate, with biscuits, and gravy, and some goddamn, coleslaw! Yes, this takes a very long, long, time. Nitrogen, is tentative, I want to start cutting, and pasting. Sweeping, must be thorough, what goes on behind the scenes, is the point, the main theme, of the film. We are concerned, about the law, the breaking, of it. The theme idea, didn’t catch on. For no reason, a hoe-down, begins. Things look way more fun, and interesting, from the outside, looking in. Many good ideas, have been floating around, lately. To say, that, is to say, too much. Be more angry. Try to stop. We’re all crazier, than we think. Soon, I will have to resort, to cannibalism. The schedule of shooting, should be affixed, on everybody’s, refrigerators. Man with cowboy hat: “I am more than enough man for you, you seem pretty, squirrelly.” How to publish (part one): Fuck, a lot, in every, conceivable, way. Soundover credits, of muffled sex. It has taken me a long time, to get to this point, and now, that I’m finally here, uh, sorry for the inconvenience, ahem. Deny the affirmative, jump over…maybe some reforms, changes, modernizations. Driving, hardcore…My intestines, are filled with yeast, and bacteria. If the sequel, is anything like, the original, we can expect to see, what they want us, to see. Let this be akin, to those crazy letters, sign/date, them. Narrow the statistics, down, into information, that makes sense. Where have all the comma’s, gone? Happy people, asking for flavored decaf. Curdle it, curdle it (what the hell?)! I fixated, too early. Look, there aren’t going to be anymore, pep rally’s. Entertain the choices, you didn’t, make. The lichen, grows, getting its nutrients, from the soil, from a…We all, must apprehend ourselves, before it’s too late. One report, suggests one thing, another, says the opposite. Not only do I hope, it works out, it must, work out. What are these cross-stitch, shifts, I hear? Congress, votes, along party lines. For the purposes of endurance, get venomous. Your prestigious, shithouse. Tax credits, in other words, who do I have to blow, to get this job? You, took something. My glands, are just as swollen. Watch out for death, it sneaks up on you. We’re not real, nothing, is normal. Test the sewers, for changes. The Moon People, are watching you. This is designed, to be quickly, forgotten. We think about sex, too much. Earnestness, leads to gas, and gas, leads to people, not liking you. Avoid all people, get off the truck. I’m reading your mind, and it sickens me. It still, doesn’t seem right, to me. You are hurting me. The dog, shit on my book, Tina, and Sheila, are arguing, about clothes. The peace talks, have stalled, again. Duck out of the way, the bottle, makes me jump. How can we just stand by…the superior, philosophical position, of atheism, was argued. Smash, and grab, at the flea market. Some kind of something, is preventing me. Look, sexy, you don’t have any, choice! There is no, sex. The nature, and structure, of metaphysics, assaults us, continuosly. Today, is lawn mowing day, not, “I think I’ll take a long drive, around.” Where is the crepe pan? Most of the time, our brains, do not work. Can’t we share information, without money, changing hands? This is, stagnant. Fuddy-duddy, the quality of work, must improve, around here. Pete ran the prick, off the road. Turning to stone, saves cellular organisms, a whole lot of trouble. Our failures, have been exposed, get to the chicken store, whatever it takes. To grad school, what? It takes a whole lot of good lies, to get laid, these days. After the computer crash, we’ll have some kind, of candy party. Knock, knock, knock (on door). Sample their wares, combat inertia, be sick, and tired, of being sick, and tired, not to mention, frustrated, overburdened, bled dry, rendered down, like, soap. The situation, is not good, any of them. You can’t just, fuck me rough, and leave me, like that, anymore. Who gives a damn (as long as the checks, cash)? We’re out to be, the industry leader. Are there any beverages, for sale, here? At this point, I’m totally out of my mind (which, doesn’t exist). As simple, as you make it, it won’t be simple, enough.

025

Appease, the graduate students. Just pretend, that you went there, imagine this, were that. They gratify/sanctify, themselves? The people, who hung out, there, were very sexual. Uncle Tom, is picking his nose, and acting nervous, and peculiar, off in the distance. Remember the first time, you heard about [*]? With one girlfriend, in rehab, and another, in the hospital, I wait. I tied myself up, somehow, and now, I can’t undo the knots. I kept my monkey, on a leash, and I, was the monkey. Challenge yourselves, more than this. The equipment, has been destroyed. We’re tired of modern, “coming of age,” stories. And, we have liftoff, or, its closest approximation. The smell of firm, is a sexual smell. Take a hard line, with yourselves, only. Work your ass off, at something that matters, for a change. Mornings, are an option, something, not necessary, they can be done, without. You may be near, being able to see, where everything comes from, these days. I have one of those coughs, that don’t stop, again. I’m trying, it might not look like it, but, I am. I let things spin out of control, and can’t put them, back. Creativity, can be a disorder, if not applied, properly. Let me get this straight, you did it, to “get it all over, and done, with?” Teach (go higher up) someone, something, come on. There is nothing here, move on. “I messed up,” became a way of life, at some point. The dishes, have been done, as have, a lot of other things. The whole thing, is like, this. Give me the tenderizer, I don’t need any, ballyhoo! Have a piece, of pie. My hopes, centered on an awful lot of money, coming my way. An incident report, was, duly, filled out. I jumped off the roof again, today, despite all the promises, that I’d, made. Overcome, the disease. Good, and bad, overlap. The pencil, can never be sharp enough. It’s that, or this, well, I choose, that. The main problem, is that everything, will get worse. We think we know, but, we don’t. All you really need to know is…I proclaim that I don’t care what happens, anymore. When stripping, do so, slowly. Long, nervously, despair, quietly. My life, the whole thing, just got away from me, somehow. The smell of mildew, and humidity, is suffocating me. Please, believe me, I’ve felt more than, wrath. The bank is always closed, when I’m finally able, to go. All the dogs, gave paw, to indicate they were waving good-bye, to the cat. We need new tools, new techniques, some kind, of different way. Maybe, just a short nap…There isn’t anything to write. The secret life, was all too, public. Why suppress, and repress, give in, give out, fuck off? What sort of animals, are we? The hub, of the hump, and over. Slip some philosophy, into the prose, from time to time. Ho-hum, go the college kids, yet again. We leave early, every chance we get. If you hurt me, I’ll hurt you, back. Nonstop movement, of the hand, is all this, is. Just a short stopover, on our way to the Orient. This is torture, and the worst part, is not even knowing what it is, that’s tortuous, about it. Where in the hell, have you been? Let’s cheat on each other! Don’t you all want to be a part of something, that will be with you, forever? What are we doing, this weekend (nothing)? Your neck is irresistible, for many reasons. Every afternoon/morning, is the exact same. Cleaning has taken place, the buzz, centered on the media blitz, surrounding Timothy’s, Bar Mitzfa. Put me in the hole. Urinate on the old boots, laying in a pile, over there. Some assembly required, after having fallen apart, too many times, to count. Hand holding, quickly becomes fist (fucking?) clenching, and waving, hitting. Let me stay here, you’re the only normal people, that I’ve encountered. Don’t take no guff, from nobody. I am going to attack you, with written permission, given, beforehand, of course. Wander from room, to room. Diss, the all-out, annoying, crack house furniture, rub two sticks, together, the nonsense of, “the ritual.” It had a nice cover (reason for purchase). Turn that damn, machine, off, show off your accent. Shall we tour the ruins, of Corpus Christi? We’re emotionally, empty/rabid. This is entrapment, that, used to be, a grocery store. Things are taking far, far, too long. Blame the rich, for all of this. Try to write, in complete sentences, “writer.” The note she wrote me, is still in my overcoat pocket, unread. I fucked up, I apologized, to society. We are required to live our lives. Get lost, you face! Cherish the memory drawer, turn it upside-down, dispose, of all of it. For the rest of your life, you will live by that tingly feel, a few seconds, can change your life. Martha, I made out with you, in my dream. Why must I continue, to touch, and stroke, my dick? For an entire Olympiad, I’ve been terrified, and paralyzed, by what, I do not know? To bathe, is to be naked, which is, “not for me.” The song, reminds me of more than I can remember. So many soft drinks, so many broken, incense sticks. Since six o’clock, the sound-alike, has been making crank phone calls, to the boss. Silence, is the answer, to every question, posed to me, lately. I’ve begun to “make the noises,” again, I can’t even believe it, myself. Sweat, leads to information, loneliness, is the lump in your throat, that won’t pop. Shit, this is a wet spot, that can’t be ignored. The exciting game, just didn’t seem that way, to me. “To teach you a lesson,” I became this blathering, idiot, slowly, over time? Relevant questions, were asked, geez, don’t go down into the cold, deep, coal shaft, alone, without telling somebody, first. Without a whole lot, of help, none of us, will make it. Take it to the next, level. They’ll giggle, when at a loss, for words.
The dead, have their own agendas, as I, myself, can attest. There are too many icons. Stop being a criminal, before it’s too late. We can tear out the pages, left unused. Every seemingly, innocuous, fuck over, has extreme consequences. There are no undertones, or overtures, now. The studio, is littered with drug paraphernalia, that, answers a few questions. You probably should have, written larger, in retrospect. Now, we can’t feel our limbs, at all. I’m not a problem, or, am I? What we want to destroy, is what’s destroying us. The charcoal pit, ain’t fit, for diggin’, not at this time of year. She refused to even look, which is fine, I guess. It’s the same thing, wherever you end up, going to. Belching dill, belching dill, you can start “filling in,” now. When you’re noone, nowhere, start something. We think things, we shouldn’t, that take up too much energy. We’ve had just about enough, of being fucked in the ass, by each, and every, organization, or group, that there, is. Their pies, are nearly, a foot tall. Snoozing away, someone nearby, making sandwiches, for a picnic, I’m, sure as shit, not going to be attending. This is like electrochemicals, misfiring, out of a rusty gun. Sex, is fun, rubbing, until something. All this stuff, doesn’t add up, to any kind of unity. I look, and sound, like a cartoon character, we need a cost effective way, to get the gospel, out. Get on the sleigh, and just ride it, down the hill. Technology, does not matter, people did without it, before. We’re washing the walls, once again. So excessive, none of us, really, have anything important, to do. There is no truth, to the rumor, that I cut the tongues, out of cat’s, mouths. Who ate all the string cheese? The key, to the secret, of hating others, is to hate yourself, first. Don’t we all, pretty much, know what to expect? As we shrivel, and clam up, desperately, crossing, and uncrossing, our legs, no one enjoys themselves, much. If this be writer’s block, it isn’t so bad. Drink too much, at the club, the train station, what does it take, really? When in doubt, we reach for whatever, it is, we’re addicted, to. Too expensive? The rag, he used, was filthy, yet, thrilling. We need one, perhaps, two, ceramic ashtrays, for the front of the store. The sound of the grill cover, being lifted up, and put down, lifted up, and put down, again. Midnight (fail, on purpose), don’t please, nobody. Don’t keep too close an eye, on the weather patterns. Maintain cash, stay sad, and lonely. If it weren’t for the hope of sex, most people, wouldn’t do, anything. Let’s go, honky-tonking. Bridges, were designed, with suicide jumpers, in mind. There is no rhyme, or reason, to most things, that doesn’t make us, demand, that there be, any less. There are still a lot of loose lines, to toss. A life of leisure, is too much work, for most people. It’s at the bottom, of the well! Don’t be, a loon. Fall into, the horror. Things, will get even, weirder. I’m, fucked. There isn’t anything, to go chasing off, after, that you’d want, if you caught it. Thousands, of candy, “be mine,” hearts. Are those, your, shoes? There is no time, for digging, now. A whole lot of people, aren’t going to be showing up for work, tomorrow (there was a sting). Now, six hours, of, Don… Let us rant, and rave, about our, ruin. My teeth, do not, feel. No playing, in the driveway. Give, more than you take. This country, has been done, for forty years. The anarchy game, was a sordid exercise, in futility. They are all, mechanical. They would check our feet, at the pool (?). The shingle, did not appear. Take a good, long, look, at all of your mistakes. There is not enough time, in life, to do what you want, to do. The asphalt, is so fresh, so real. We don’t have any roots, if we do, they don’t matter. You’d better, get on that train! Occasionally, the human brain, stops working, that is, doing what it’s supposed to do, performing it’s, function. It sounds like a machine shop, inside my head, metal being scraped, cut, dropped, melted down. In all honesty, all I wanted to do, was slit my wrists. The blinds, were closed, for good. Is everyone, in the convenience store? The book full of leaves, fell, for some reason. There isn’t a man, woman, or child, that won’t be dragged off, this time. Here comes Jesus, what do you know, after all these years? Dreaming, is stupid, when the enemy is advancing, on your foxhole, believe it. Ensure that the baking, gets done. What’s not written, in this book, is what I’m looking for. You will use the photograph, I took, for the cover of this book, or else. Format yourself, right under the table. Farms, are more beautiful, than strip malls. Dear readers, if indeed, there be, any, we should be more careful, but, none of us, will be. Go out, and get it. The grocery store, used to be so exciting, most things, are, when you’re younger. It’s all our own faults, we create, allow, or produce, all the shit, we have, in our lives. Straighten the books, this is important. Nobody went to pick up their awards, at the cake/dessert, table. We can’t let everybody, know what we’ve got, if anything. No one should fuck, anybody else, here, naturally, I don’t mean this, literally. Spin around, whatever form, that takes. How can we dissuade vandals, from wreaking havoc? We’ve decided not, to try to, “live.” What, “good parts?” We’re out for some pathetic, revenge. We won’t really, be remembered. He used to cmplain, a lot. He knows, all the teams.
Accept nothing, do not detach, do not be content (no matter what). That chicken, was not, going to be eaten! Music, seems designed, to force us to eat, when we don’t want to. To the midnight shift, and beyond, before, etcetera. To asshole restaurant owners: dishwashers, are human beings. The abnormals, aren’t, really. Why even wake up, half the time? Don’t forget to spend twenty dollars, on popcorn, and snacks, the next time you go to the theater. Behavior, along the edges of extremism, your checklists, mean nothing. Find the things, that mean a hell of a lot more, now, than they did, when they were made. A novel, just isn’t my bag, things should end, be done. With the way that they wasted time, there is no hope, for them. The shit in your pants, will dry, don’t worry about, not wiping, properly. I do all that I can, and then some, and even that’s, not enough. You’re entitled, to your insanity. She was, allegedly, killed in the waif room, twice! One day, is indistinguishable, from any other. What basement, were you pulled, into? The revisions, must be made, moreover, they must be, implemented. Difficulties, of the present moment, someone yelled, at someone else. Make a movie, about the Pope, giving the edict, that there is no God. My plan, didn’t work, I didn’t get the job, for the hundredth time, now. I don’t know if I should even carry on, writing, at this point. At this time, Japanese interior decoration, techniques, may not be relevant, concerns. I got identified. Escape, isn’t possible, we return, we always go, or, come back. He must have said please, to her, thirty-two, times. Buildings, bindings, she told me there were three ways, to turn on the light. There are no real, differences. What turns us on, is our own heat, escaping from our bodies. Just breeze through the storm, like the wind. Be fundamentally, blatant, everything has been scrubbed, twice. I was labeled, as having some difficulty, early. We’re weaned, and reared, to believe in lies, and, to consume. Three deer, on a hill, makes drivers go slower, through that area, from then, on. The company’s reputation, is at stake, here! I am a criminal. We think only of ourselves, sometimes, a fistfight, is the only recourse, we have, left. There is so much neglect, I’m tuned into the wrong station, entirely. When we flex, it becomes abundantly, clear, how inconsequential, we all, are. The Sun, and Moon, tortes, have been consumed. Some of these foolish ideas, flights of fancy, pies in the sky, the men’s, and women’s, bathrooms, are the same. I’m sick of taking the jobs, that nobody else, wants. So poor, that I tape my pencils together, when they break. Just take the three million, out of my check? Do not cheat, or fudge the data, on your personal, score card. Adapt, to survive, appreciate steadiness (learn to). Somehow, in some way, I have been contaminated. Entertainment, isn’t very entertaining. What, larger context? Truth, is generally, made to order. It all spun, wildly, out of control, at some point, along the way. Remove me, from this sickening carousel, called, culture. Becoming a millionaire, isn’t as exciting, as most people, would think, it’s hard to describe, exactly. I kicked the window, in, for no reason. Just like sunshine, not anymore. Maybe your company, will send a floral arrangement, maybe, they won’t. Someone, is yelling. Our inabilities, make us unable. There must be some fundamental, dysfunction. Don’t play darts. The cabaret, has been cancelled, we’ll just keep doing, what we always, have. Pave the street, take the penalty. Sometimes, you want to turn the wheel, directly into oncoming traffic, other times, you don’t. It’s up to you, how much time, is enough, to spend, on your hands, and knees. Those are some pretty wild, fingernails. Focus, clearly. We’re the poster people, for the dead. “Show us your tits,” the college boys, catcall, proving, once and for all, that their parent’s education funds, are really paying, dividends. Weird, computer punch cards, sculptures, of sixteen, melted, mangled, crucifixes. Let us just, get our foot, in the door. All this, for $1,500.00. The intermission, was comme ce, comme ça, or whatever the hell, the word, was. Those with pressing, social engagements, are fucked. It was a giant, porno shop, with a crazy, flashing, neon sign. Things have a tendency, to overlap. Yelling at yourself, doesn’t solve your problems. When given the opportunity, people will say cruel things, indeed, and you will remember them, at the most inopportune, time. Perhaps, I am strange, or weird, I just hope that it’s going in the right direction. It might be, too late, now. Wide eye’s, stay open. Four days, twenty pages? We still need to change, so much, learn, so much more. It’s made, of metal. It doesn’t fit, the formula. It’s not, possible. I don’t know if the act of completion, feels good, or not. It’s all wrong, too damn, often. We surfed, the curly-cue’s. It makes sense, sentence, by sentence. The ninny, went blotto. You do not need, anymore, inspiration, or, motivation, etc.

024

I’m sick and tired, of wiping (burn some new woodcuts) society, off of my face. It’ time, to, flip out. Learn taxidermy, properly. Seek the secret codes, of denial. Sponge off the latex, splurge, like, a car wash. As an incompetent, I proved to be second to none. There are no chapters. How’s that for an opening? Life is wrong, and no amount of Hail Mary’s, or Halleluja’s, can alter, that, immutable, fact. Someone, said something, about chimpy, baskets. Thank you, amazing sewer lid readers, for sticking it out. This means, I’m done, writing, for now. The upper peninsula, is my region, not your, region. We’re gonna’ sit right back down, on it. Don’t call me, here. Beverages, on the double. What sorts of things, does she contemplate, on her, back porch? Models, invade the buffet. There ain’t no message. We don’t really want to hear, other people’s assessments, of us. I became, watery. The smells, coming from my room, shock, and disturb, even myself. Every trick, I’ve got, has been pulled, five times. May, hit me like a truck, June, should prove to be no different. I can’t fool anyone, because they can all, read my mind. There sure is a lot, to choose from. I’ve lost control of my half hour, increments. She killed a pheasant, barehanded? The market calls for shorter sentences, but, that is just not working out, anymore. A thick, film, covers us. From this side of the tracks, well, whatever’s untrue, appears to be the other way, and, so on. The local scene, just, isn’t. Take a… put a little bit more into it, if you don’t mind. Do you know the way? Lawnmowers, with extension cords? The fling, went well, until the “explanation phase,” of it. My head is feverish, and beginning to swell. The garage, gone, the abandoned hotel, is infested, with roaches, and rats. Very tired, very tired, now, I’d like to apologize, for my abusiveness. Give up (start at the top), resisting, the suit, is flame retardant. The front row creep’s, will stare. Soon, paper, will be a status symbol. Search, as we will, there is nothing to find. How could our mouths, fit so much shit, in them? Stomach the end, make your way, downtown, towards where things, really happen. My intention, is not to be a trivia answer, to a question. How much gas, do I have left? What kind of a creepy show, is this? This is a kind of hopscotch, I just don’t, get. Why do you keep (be doomed) revisiting the Hi-Lo, anyhow? He ended up having to cut out, most of the controversial scenes. Gallivant, through the backyard, garden, like a mole. This is one of those, disasters, where you gotta’, close your eyes. The veins in my hand, switch position, with a surprising, frequency. Keep your secrets, to yourselves. Ask about the towels, yes, I am pathetic, but, please, don’t hold that against me, until all the evidence, is brought forth. Do not trust reality, or, your own interpretation, of it. The idea, the initial, idea, of what this…anyway, it’s, gone. Ask for a jury trial, the “secret sister game,” was, no crime. How can people, stay enthused, for this? Put your all, into whatever the hell it is, you wind up, doing. My life, is the walk to the scaffold, to hang, you, and I, are on the out’s? Don’t begin, again, with the sex stuff/obsession, please. Ain’t no, free time (too much). Laundry day, leads to the contemplation of various, and assorted, stains. Hang the wet towels, up. The leg, has been sleeping, all day, and all night, long. I don’t have a reason, for being in your backyard. Baby, get up off the couch, and let me know what it is, you’re really (I’m a pixel), thinking, about (oops, addicted again). I have got to start thinking, about more important, things. I’ve fished off my last pier, it seems. Two Cloud, lost a lot of residents, after the factory, closed. I want to be known, but then, quickly, forgotten. I can’t imagine, or picture myself, standing in line. One minute, a clown, the next, an angry, raging, charging, buffalo. All you can think about, is like a ghost, you can’t exorcise. It’s starting up, already, that secret thing, we do. I said something, off-color, about sniffing panties, next thing you know, I’m in jail for thirty-six hours (or more). Should I seek treatment, for this disorder? These are my innate pulsations, which is to say, that I am in no way, responsible. Put down my photo, of the whore. It took all day, to do that thing, that I’d put off, doing. They don’t make chairs, like that, anymore. Wait just one minute, here, these drugs, are, potent. Just a touch, of vile hatred. Put a bow on it, wear the bonnet. If you only, knew. Her voice, pissed the truth, all over my embarrassed, face. It all seems, to be, so damn, difficult! Watch, just watch, the whole thing, dissolve. This is only the daily quota, the bitterness, leaks out. The Colonel, didn’t die, for me, or, my sins. There is no mystical knowledge, to be had. What are you people hiding, underneath the tablecloth? If I don’t watch myself, I’m gonna’ get kicked out, of here. Wink, wink (look, who are you?). I’ve got to perform some act, do something, function! Of course, it’s a seething cauldron, of contradictions, but, everybody already knows, that. Do, what needs, doing, to get it done, resist, singing along, to the jewelry store, jingle. Take the square peg, and force it into the round hole. Every job I’ve ever had, has been to “make ends meet,” well, they never met. All my idealism, is long, gone. Mumble, to the crutches. Stop having, fun (violate te law).

023

It’s my loss, I twist, and fret (vitriol, plenty of it). It’ll never end. Grunt in the worm room, sell tickets! Pounce on a preppie? Check into it (the institution). It has become quite stale. Picture it, like chantilly lace. Be ethics. It’s in the clover. You cross your own t’s. The black pit, is vacant, the crowd will turn violent. Don’t believe them. No alternatives are left, for us to consider. Get to the icy gulch! I am one wayward soldier. I spent my summer vacation, going to places where I wasn’t wanted. It’s only a painting (on a wall). Exhaustion is a solution. Go talk to her, I dare you. Who knows what the hour will be, when we finally do walk through that door? Go Zion. My feet are dissolving, my life is a flashing light sale. Too narrow of an audience, was aimed for. This is not rape, not yet. I threatened to harm them, they all laughed out loud. Sadness is like a symphony, in three parts. Whatever doesn’t kill us in the meantime, will, in the end. Not with this gut, not now. What was I stammering? The hassles will continue, your dreams will spell it out for you. Everything got all messy, and complicated. He must have been stoned, I mean, my ass is showing. How far astray, we got, somehow. Read anything you want, into it. I’m on drugs that haven’t even been invented, yet. He always used to bring up the people whom I’d long forgotten. Back at the beginning of the punk rock resurgence, I went way into the kiddie pool, without permission. The dust bin of superstars, is full. She used to get things started. I never used to even have, a lap. It looks cool, like a third world flag, how everything was crossed out with different color inks. We’ll cook ourselves. She didn’t want to play, we used to climb mountains and shit. He feels like a fraud, a false shepherd. Everything falls apart, the refrigerator door is just the beginning. Bookstore: high falutin’, smartie pants, assholes! I yelled to Susan from across the street, near where that one bar used to be. The egg said to me, “I’m sick of you, fucker.” They are there. All the apartments were sparsely furnished. All kinds of doors slamming, and mischief. Everybody seemed to be fucking everybody else. People’s heads used to turn, back when she’d yell (my ex-wife). Gimme’ my suitcase. Are you some kind of fucked up, asshole? Don’t pretend that you don’t like it, too. The chicken’s head flew off, during the melee. He was the “man in pink.” He said he didn’t think I heard him right. You can’t come in here with that stuff. A few people felt alternated, a few more, lit cigarettes. We got a bunch of new couches and paintings, for the back. After I went insane for real, is about the time I became an asshole, as well. What do you think of the consistency of our products? Somewhere, in the back, is a list of jobs to be done, on some sheet (it may or may not, be laminated, it really doesn’t matter)… It’s your show, you can do anything, you want. You are… what are you? Don’t ever be ashamed, for fucking yourself! You shouldn’t be in too big of a hurry. Guess who’s in love, now? We used to think, thoughts. Tighten it up, this is how it needs to be. Ha, ha, this is the beginning of everything else. Fame is your own fault. I never dream, I have visions. Oh, it’ll always be complicated… Range off, like the squirrels. Wanna’ buy a yearbook ad, a marital aid, some cashews? Now look, rain ruined the hammock. The slide out into sleep, is beginning, now. He was outed, before he got in. No easy answers? Baby, there ain’t none, whatsoever. Must act consistent (we are all a bunch of phonies). They’ll try to divide you. Go spin around in the barber’s chair. Masculine and feminine powders, and sprays. A toast to all the things that could have been. The bartender came around the bar, quickly. Moss all over the sideyard, barnacles stuck to the side of the boat. Write everyday (twitch). Do the finger twinkle, to attract them to you. Ask the arts and crafts (your cohorts) girls. I wrote too much. Please stop knitting, and listen to me. I’m so weak, insecure and needy (avoid me). Down we go, in a way, like turds. Is that the wind? Do not go gentle. The pool game, was fixed. You go, girl. The clown was solid (slang). Pleats get stared at, on boring winter nights. Things will keep happening, that shouldn’t. Pay extra special attention, from now on. Puzzle boy, is puzzled. It’s like the tolling of the bells. Ache away, then, ache away. We’re strange, in a permanent way. Gotta’ make the change. We used to just sit in the living room, not exactly living. I made monkey noises, for them. See, now, that, has to go into the book, as well. Stock the goddamn shelves, yet again. You, yes, you, must become God, now (at once)! They were only oysters, drug walk thoughts. The spare time, tire, etc. Someone farted, just now. Mad as a hatter, I watch. They are merely getting weird/wired. I won’t forget the part about the Indian squaw, with the tits. All in all, what do we really have, here? You know you’ve got to work (no way). Wicked thoughts, wicked deeds? I don’t know what to do. Who’ll go second? Sweet pants, had sweat pants, on. It was tasty, decent, awesome, darling, excellent. We wanted a challenge. Crawl to the puke pail. It’s like carousel animals, half the time (in dreams). Lynch would’ve loved it. Retina (right?) sketches, like the sky falling in on us. It can’t be put in a book (most everything, that really matters to us, or, at all). She was about as soft pink as they get, she was almost mauve. The only one I loved there, was Athena Rose. Get some paint, and go to work. My factory memories, are all in black and white. Spit on it, to get things started (below). Cousin fuckin’, ain’t right for nobody. The smells of mold and mildew, got me moving. Tooth and nail, get it done. We’re gonna’ straighten out your life. Used postcards for sale, too expensive. One damn fool mouth, is enough. We’re forbidden, for Christ’s sake (take note). We got this old cabinet, cheap. Go counter clockwise. Fingers have gloves, gloves have fingers (use them). Shit in the woods, like that one freak. Can’t get it our way. Get on the detachment, fast track. They doubled the price. Suck it in, if you still can. When it doesn’t go your way, eat beans. The wind whistles, sharp, through the old barn. It’ll just be inserted in. It’s bird feeders, and so on, still. We’re marred by tongues, with bolts in them (causing speech impediments). These are all the materials we need. Forlorn by the pastry case. We enjoy sleeping, reading, walking. The goal might not be met (this is not an option). They don’t believe it, and I don’t care, either. It’ll be a really big deal, each time. I admit that I’m a pervert.
The final act (please, stop). More foo yung, more chop suey? Be full of shit. I can’t live with it, yet. We sit, worry, wonder, etc. Remain opaque, away, out of sight. Slam into the charming, and beautiful. Let’s get it done. It became Spanish, they were from Venus, Chinatown exploded, he lived underneath the porch of the abandoned house. Survive, try to survive, until the next time the rose’s bloom. Rock back and forth, like a maniac. We used to steal, go for the equilibrium (shortly). A few too many addictions, um, I guess. Rely on the unseen, work on it, take out the middle, all of the grocery stores, are closed. A story about a haunted jukebox? Go out to the spot in the yard, where the latrine used to be. Calibrate what must be calibrated. Shut down the means of production. My theme song is like a dirge. My words, fail. Call for directions, beforehand (sit down on the sofa). A little more sentiment, perhaps? Describe what it feels like, to XYZ. She was a pre-teen, sensation. Beg for the rust colored, blight. I used to have all kinds of sensations, pulsations, so on, and so forth. You are “the other,” me. Play the sads songs, we’re a long way from Delaware. The breakdown, is complete. My, what a big, plump ass, you have. Another tenement holiday (take that plaque off of there!). Go to the toy store (aim!). Restore your lawns! Flip zen, over! Wink on, old shaky (horny, and in jail). It’s falling about me, words have mass! Say yes, to sex with sea anemone’s. We’re odd entities, try a fresh lemon roll, a highball, it’s in my head! There’s this thing going on. The truth is, it doesn’t have anything to do with manic-depression (things are not going well). I do not want to ever leave this room. I hope I get over my sick/perverted side, soon (there ain’t no fuckin’ way). Anything but the old Blue Ribbon, and I puke! I’m honestly, so damn happy, that I think I’m miserable. Please, don’t make me do this! Hurry up, the bus is leaving without you. Call toe-tit’s, see who’s there. Whatever it was, could have been. No more managers, meaningless; elbows on the table, meant something, back then. We bought screws, it’s all dropping down (drooping). You never should have let me out of the hospital/jail. Make it work, no matter what. Why didn’t I simply drool, and agree? I ignored my self. Tune that thing, stop that (you know what I mean). I ended up licking the water (see?) off the starting blocks. Perform lapsitting functions, my head doesn’t work, anymore. We collapsed on the shore. How can you stand it? It’s over so fast, that you’d better (fill in the blank, here). Beware thinking that it’s too hard, too much work, etc. we must wear the nice, green dress. Then, some crazy ass vision of Burgess Meredith, shaving! It’s as melancholy as seeing a mortuary vault, above ground, for sale, no less. There are no smiles, there is no knowing. Faith? Please! The methane smells, from the expressway, are what wake us up in the morning. I can’t cry at the wayside, anymore, it’s time to face the facts, it’s over. Climb up into her essense. You gotta’ announce those strange notions. Sure, it’s been a number of years. I saw his name, typed on a piece of paper, in a plastic fishbowl (before). They do not seek the truth (them). Don’t try to speak, when intoxicated. That dude, is dead, man. Some words are missing. I’ve got to turn my entire life around, again. My best days are behind me, and they weren’t so great. Can’t we just be people? The mystery remains unsolved (I did it). The lyrics are skewed, somewhat. The chicken crowed, Aries was unhinged, Pisces, unrelenting. You are so much sweet sunshine. They just used to stare at the cheese slicer. I hear your voice, when I listen to the silence. Check the prices, shift into neutral, sit there. My descriptions are daft, not deft. Peek in some windows, smile at the worms. Sleep wears off (the effects, thereof). Everything that was in the basement, was ruined. Do it, while you still can. Refurbish, refurnish, reinvent, redistribute, close it up, tear it down. Combine the territories (pledge and promise things). We were there, man (just a state of mind). Begin sound, begin sound, please. Inflict, genuflect, wait, fire. Grunt, all the way to the canteen. He knew all of the various flavors. There is nothing on the shelves. Rub the chubby, out (it won’t work). Put it mildly, pin those two together. It came out of my skin, it is not my real hand. Fondle the figlet, learn the wrong way. Don’t go back to Shady’s Club (flashback). They were only nouns, it was mental, I’m absolutely fucked (overweight). Delicate squishing noises, occurred. It’s late at night again, and I don’t know how it happened. I got cocky, and was shot down, put in my place. Rest assured, the shit will hit the fan. Your intelligence will go away, at about the same time as your “big plans.” The audience knows what to expect, at all times. This is no ordinary, fruit and nut mustard. You gave them a little bit more than an inkling. The sights to see, are always just beyond this place. Don’t sit there, just listening. The car is becoming a part of my body. Keep rocking! Lye, the precious commodity. I won’t let my life mean nothing. So many of us, are so unhappy. I ended up hurting myself, bad. The paint just got sucked into the wall, totally. It will all come true (not). I want behavior! The dead will be my guides through the dark. Bells rang constantly, throughout the campus. He mounted her, and thrust. Your and my clue, is to get one. Let us, from this point forward, consider this to be a novel. Some freak, actually tried to sell me weed, in the parking lot. The pervert let his views be known. Worry is tension on top of tension. The time must come, for that, to end. What the hell has happened to the shape of my head? Calls from the unknown coatroom (outside line). His legs ceased to be useful. We need a pet, or something. Snarl at the snarler. It’s a mish mash of whitewashed, and extra strength, truths. They are all convinced that I’m an idiot, anyway. I collapsed, yes, collapsed, over near the service bar. I consumed the grits. Play the guru, like in one of those LSD cartoons, which is a big hint. Ancient knowledge, untrue.
It was rape! Let them, be them, you, be you! I just wasn’t good enough. David (coffee). Tell the tale, scratch some more. Use up all space. Cooperate with who’s destroying you. I am a lost cause, already (don’t let it throw you). Why can’t she piss straight? Act droll, uninterested, then, act like a mini Jesus. Lean into my sex, this is not rape. So much cheese, to be eaten (don’t watch television). The double sided dildo, was used. Jude rolled up, like a pair of socks. I thought I saw a cat in there. Avoid anything that’s “in style.” They sell nothing but cheap candy. The yelling was rhythmic. Pause, and you’re finished. Things that should’ve happened, never did. There are no carbons being made, rest assured. Nothing too peculiar, ever happened (you touched yourself again, didn’t you?). The starch will attract dirt to your shirt. Now, it is undone, like the crinkly walk out to the shed. You have to make it fit together. We are not the people. Humans aren’t capable of doing too many great things. I do not want to eat, any longer. Logic hasn’t served us, very well (in the final analysis, so what?). The thread was cut, severed, clipped, torn, whatever. Blank out, during the pull over. You caused all of this, you. Write about how you quit smoking. I could own you, stop driving by the old school. She seemed to know what I was after. My life isn’t even true. Give the wrong answer, beg, like a child. You have to make it happen. We marched, nobody questioned it. Brain/sense data (ribbed). Bamboozled and hoodwinked, I just wanted to lie down, for awhile. There is no next song, there is no party. The fistfight was re-enacted, poorly. Her spincter could tell solid, liquid, and gas, apart (she informed us). With this, I’ll probably never achieve any real success. Make the most of it, while you can. There aren’t any more candles (at all). Be fond of your destitution (they tell us). Defeat is inevitable, these days. The stars are still up there, but sometimes, they fall. Fuck the dialectic. This is not a resum, per se, it’s more of a calling card. My books, “aren’t right for their publishing program.” My mind is a leotard, being spun around on a hanger, used as a makeshift wind sock, as it were. A toast, to the American myth, of forward momentum. They just don’t give us a chance. Sleep is like death’s bookmark. The gentle nudge, is really a hard shove. Her thighs were wide apart, which caused me to drop my pencil, brought out action, emotion, change, mutability. If only blah, blah, blah. No external world, so, hump the Neanderthal woman, vomit, seek help. The railroad ties, are gone. Oh, so I’m like him(?), hmmm. Clean the glass, even if there is no glass to clean. Do a better job of plugging in the blanks. You’ve got to sand, with, the wood grain. Stroll through the graveyard, look for a reason to live. It was like being fondled, underneath a bridge. The room isn’t grey enough. Piss off the wrong people, even if your skill sets, are lacking. All the beauty in the world, and there is a lot, is tainted, and made ugly, by all that isn’t. It will culminate (growth, stops). Apologies, to all offended. Let’s end this (over and over, again). Take it out, then, asshole! Girls who do it (plugging, plunging, plowing).

022

They are out to prove something, now. I can’t be funny, anymore. The nutrition expert, was worried. It was as tan, as a storage shed. Shit in a bun, would have more nutrients. Save the raccoon’s, from the sides of the roads. There are no pictures, either. You don’t have to do too many things wrong, to fail, these days. We want attention, secretly. Absurdity and surrealism, are cop-out positions. You don’t want to hear about my death and destruction, because it will/would, remind you, of yours. It was all so dandy, once upon a time. I never planned on becoming so religious. The right sounds, are not surrounding us. They don’t name streets after people like us, either. I squatted down, and took a shit, like an animal, in the church parking lot. We can loop it, later. The computer only deletes the best stuff, the stuff that I like, and it leaves me with the scraps. For lack of anything more stimulating, I became a creep. The best thing that could’ve happened to me, would have been to die young. It’s just stupid, despite my dreams of it’s being the opposite. You are one of those assholes! You won’t be doing much dating, after awhile. Take it out, on principle. People who go to church, will not like this book. It smelled like a combination of cranial fluid, and a moose. Even the people… well, I was passed by, left behind. One you start to do it, it doesn’t take so long, seem so impossible. As usual, there is an overwhelming amount of work (urine). If we’d have gone to grad school, we’d be done by now. Nobody can help us, and no one will. We should’ve known better, not that that does us too much good, now. With a sock on my penis, I went out to lunch. Keep being awake, wish for something else. I like it, but I know that nobody else will. Disturbing, disabling, revelations; assault me, continuously. It only seemed like it was all hard wood. She is not you, nobody is. I’ll miss her until the day I die, inconsolably. Where are all of the old vinyl albums? I am so upset, by all of these mistakes, and it seems like the more of them I find and fix, the more of them there are. Oh, velvet. Grieve in a more satisfying fashion (they take it all, away). Just like a balloonist (mmm-hmm). Throw up, on the red pants. People seem to know what to avoid, what not to do. Did you mark the right boxes? I don’t care much about that, we’ve just got to hurry. The pig, it lost it’s hams. Go on out there tonight, rattle your cage. I’m starting to see double, at least this is something. For possible cancers! Pearl shaped earrings, on the dresser. Miss your mark again, eh? I never, I’m, well, oh, forget it. I’m absolutely nuts, now. Nothing is free, get ready to pay. What the hell was she talking about? This is your real, and only, life. Dude, illustrate it, this way. Must snap out of this. Skin, with a top hat. In exile/bed? You must, read! She is just like you, only shorter. The hypnotizing voices, that the telemarketing girls, have… got me warmed up, fast (in the brain). Satisfaction (so short lived). We’re haunted by ghosts, of some kind. Outlast, out fox them. Fat and silly, either/or (help). Work ain’t no part of nothin’. Let most of your desires work themselves out on the dreamplane. We never really knew how rare it all was (back then). Daily chores, for pinheads. Goo-goo, hey-hey. Aha never works out how we plan it to. I’m a total psycho. Some kind of arrangement needs to be worked out. They probed me, too! Where it leads, is when it ends. Don’t go off on too many tangents, now. My head is wet. As our eyesight wanes, we attempt to write, faster. Feel like being sassy? My faculties have pretty much, up and left me. Filthy, a little, dirty. Supermarket cold cuts, not fresh. No time for the Jesuits, now. There is a two? It’s for their own amusement. Aren’t we all a little nerdy? Act on this urge/need, at once. You’ve got to fight it, when it comes. They said I smelled like smoke. The neighbors suspect nothing. Um, I hit. Use that for parts, too. The new highway opened. How can you be/eat that? We’ve got to be more driven. They keep raising the damn prices. Dispense the cold cream. You dance so crazy/drink too much. We’re glassy, and we’re certain. Stay cold, out of sight, in the shadows. The dress fit me. Lolita-like infatuations (censored)… Sneaky kids were always breaking all the rules. I exist as the author of this book (only). Don’t throw out the punk rock papers, or whatever. Oh, these strange fingers of mine, want to fiddle with you. I got yelled at, yet again. It doesn’t matter why you didn’t do it before. They say she probably got the fever, from sex. Wherefore can we hide? There was an envelope. All for naught, eh? I wouldn’t care to be the guy who I am. Tomorrow always seems to come. The template (don’t can me, daddy)… is missing. This is London weather. They think I’m a joke, they are right. Oh, I see things, catch myself, but I do see them. He is afraid, this is where we left off. Like a bullfighting arena! You are the tourniquet, I am inside. I decided not to spell, anymore. Sunlight through the church steeple/bell tower. Edit it down, ship it out. Take care of things, so that if you die, there will be no unnecessary problems. There is no “comfort.” The general public, will never accept this. Rum one, gin all, to the tent sale. Keep going, no matter what.
I screamed, as if into a pair of open legs. Slow and sure, don’t win no…race. Every publisher, only publishes for “Christian lifestyles? Huh? Systems, in the bushes! The book is the debutante/dilletante, ball. Add it to it. Call it “client’s priviledge.” Serendipity, some explosion! Start chanting again. Enough sweetbreads, stop it. I have no telelvision night. Type and style, unforgettable. She got a pussy willow stuck up her nose. At your age, all of this sneaking around? It takes all of my energy. It’ll take a number of hours. It tastes too much like veal, I’ll never be famous. In order to keep going, lots of movies. It’s too complicated of a template. Have a confab about it, in an old caf. They sit there at the windows, all day long. Life is not so easy. I’m an electron, which does me no good. Leg me, all up and into it. You’ve got to wear clothes around me. Please, not like usual. Oh, it’s all the same. I left a lot of food, up in the (Russian) cupboards. Her teeth had a gun metal, glean/gleam. Of course not (to that question). Ah, forever (ain’t no such thing). Be naughty, devilish (just a little, in a ticklish way). Meld it, melt it, do it. The single most significant thing, is death. I returned all the other books, for this. Girls who show it (hurray)! This book just plain, sucks. It might be time (it is). Get a clue, mix a drink, tell a tale. Return it to what it was. For a new shirt, you must be naked? Have a favorite! Who could ever possibly give a shit about any of this, but me? Put the milk in the milkbox. Call it a religious hang-up. All prayers fall on deaf ears. We wound up in the bus station (again). Go ahead, bite! Go get a clue (I wanna’ rock). I am so, so angry. There is something going on in your mind. Go out, and get a lot smarter. I found my cigarettes. It doesn’t itch. Neurons fire when they feel like it. Get the giggles (hush up now, just hush). It all gets twisted, turned around. For external use, only (believe it). Seeing a mantis/dragon… What’s going on, is that I’m ruined. My foot and the figs, wasted my breathing. Bores to look at, again (please). The frockcoat is worn thin/out. Call it a framework, and get one. Take a quick crap, sneak one. Dreams of smart people, who moved away. Cry out for help, make it work. Retired clowns, made it a better sentence. You’ve got to do things that you never thought you’d do. The chores are done, go into their room. It’s like being on the trampoline! My ruse was discovered. Graduate, and then leave, you assholes. You smell like an artist, defacto. This is where the short stuff, starts (around here). I wouldn’t say I’m almost done, not yet. I’m making less of a dent than I’d thought. The black and white, still stops by, from time to time. It was as if, framed (the shadows of the foliage, through the window). Because I hate my hair (that’s why). We made appearances, which were not well received. Spin (a) yarn. It’ll take at least, until forever. These people are high on something. Teeth, professor (this is a funeral). Oh, I wanted her (but, well, you know). You listen to that music. Tuck her in, let it happen (not a wink). This has got to work, that’s all there is to it. Be a nonreligious street preacher. Slice it into a nice fillet. I don’t like that kind of bitch. Ace of spades, ace of clubs, eight of spades, eight of clubs, jack of diamonds. Fear never did any of us, any damn good. Pens, filled with spit. We were on a swingset? Mullet cuts, too much beer, dissatisfaction, dog crap in the yard. We lost the game (7-15-95). Don’t stop thinking about it. Avoid insight, awareness. It’s up to me, to fix it. At no cost to you, peek-a-boo! Clean the kitchen. I wanted this to be in the old book. The sermon was about lost causes. Who am I, this week? What am I on, man, what are you on? Slam dance, read books, reach your destination. It’s just not cricket, what they did to her. I used to get, well, a little too drunk, sometimes. Next showing, Tuesday night. I don’t want any shit, with anybody, that’s the truth. No to the “OO.” I’ll never see her, again. You can find me on the porch. Fired! We saw each other, in each other. Orson Welles, was from Kenosha. It starts out, slow. Give ‘em the gladhand, grimace. I can’t escape you. The survey results are in. Hate is so sharp, she is just delightful. For farts and grins, we went out to the bus stop. Lunch breaks, tut-tut. Attribute it to the people that you canned, back then. Ding-dong (with sharp objects). They know all of your troubles (vampires, take note). So much time and money, lost in bookshops. I had a fake childhood. There is nothing special, or different, about anybody; some work harder, is all. A last line about the plastic globes/gloves. Females are a different species, entirely (leave them alone). In Rome, they must do it on the sidewalks. People had to say “whoa, there.” In Snafu City, communism is all the rage (like this seasons, fashions). You and I are like the lemmings. It was the pain caused by the fake glasses. Yuck(!), was taken out of the junior high school poetry competition. Go have your fun, then… In other words, looking at the vaginas of full grown women. Hypnotized, by all those wasted years. I can’t find any evidence of the supposed, Abe Lincoln haircut. I never gave “going down,” a second thought. That’s really tops (Tom’s stuff). No, you don’t quite understand, I will not tolerate, anymore rejection. We were the famous, it’ll happen to you (it is never going to happen). Thinking will get you pretty far down the old, dusty road to nowhere. I’ve never heard of such a fucking thing. It’s the i.v. drip, and cold cuts, from now on. He got into Buddhism. She used to just lay there, she was not into it (at all). Aspects of who I was, forgotten. I knew, but then, forgot. I’ll hit ‘ya (look out). The year(s) went by, so quickly. It tastes like skin. It leaks out, suddenly. Every facet, or aspect of the other, is like an individual water molecule, if you jump in the pool (statement against relationships). They lived in artsy worlds, to leave alone. Nobody stops by (no surprise). There are too many fuck’s in the book. His guts came out of his mouth, and ass… It seems the whole town, is for lease (why don’t they accept failure?). Crazy, doesn’t really go far enough. I couldn’t hit for shit in Kalamazoo (but I went back). It’s too late for mistakes, now. Later on, asbestos. After the lightbulb, I see the inner workings of a human cell (in deep neon). You just know what you have to do. Was it about love? You’d better have a persona, and play a role. I’ve been long since, tamed. As a reprise, the men will shovel coal. Oh, Lordy, I’m a horny. No, to technology. You think you gained perspective during your time off? Let’s cut an album, here. I’ll be your sidekick, we’ll just watch the trains. Cam ran away, we were known as the ignorant putz’s. Graph out a solution, in exasperation. You can see I’m really crying (faking it). They are all so pleased.

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