012

Curds and whey… Ah, take us back, to West Main. We are going to make sense of life, no matter what. Such a full, rich lather (unbelievable). Copy down those old poems (take a firm stance, against avoidance). I need you, who are you? The candle drips faster, sometimes. This goes way beyond tearing the heads off of dolls. What was that woman insinuating? The perpetual panic, didn’t improve matters. Look at someone else, not at me. Bleed easy, slow down the horses. There must have been two hundred, smiling rabbits. I haven’t seen a rainbow in twenty years, unless you count the kind that oil slicks cause. Go to the cheapest places, only. Downtown, yet again. The pets don’t speak or understand, English. We act all kinds of ways. They listen, without hearing you. But… but, nothing (maybe, butt fuck, that’s it). Please stop using your secret sign language, on me. The book seems forced and stilted, no particularly enlightening, or illuminating. The end, already happened. Pages have disappeared. Butter them down. Hello, I am not alive anymore, but still, I am communicating with you. I have absolutely no business, sitting in here, writing this book, neither will you, if you ever write one. I had a vision of Japan! The contents of my mouth, include my teeth. Today, there are none (huh?). You got another magazine? It comes on, all of the sudden. I adore you, and love you, despite what I said before, and will say later. All hope is lost, it’s hopeless, I’m helpless. Be leery of the rich, and successful. They speak of skills, what skills? We drive around, unable to believe what’s happened to us. We are drunken violins, sober. Yes, I blame you (no, I don’t). To our amazement, some kind of sidewalk sale was going on. Observe the coming’s and going’s of the waitstaff, from a distance. This is a fruitless struggle, my medium of choice. No one wants to read this, right now, these words are blanketed in the darkness of the closed pages. Nothing is left to be underlined, now. A calm demeanor, hides something. I wonder where she went, after my year in the hospital. The plastic snowman seemed to point at me, and say something. If it’s the last thing we do, it will be. Smell her shoes, often. There is so much bullshit to sift through. I did try to hurt myself, but that was so long ago. Why try to fake it? Some sort of dancing, the last ditch effort, beaten into some emotion, immediately denied. It’s called a pussy. They sold roasted nuts, out of some kind of machine. This may or may not be what we were worried about. Try some more denial, this is what psycho’s do, in their spare time. The time to flee, may now be here. We put a little illustrated book, together. The smell of bleach, no longer satisfies me. We showed a little bit too much enthusiasm. Most of our lives, are lived by other people. My (check it out) activities, in your garage, at this hour, needn’t concern you. We’ll fish wherever we so choose. I deserve the reviews I got. I’m a comin’ at cha’, with a knife, and a butter knife. The engine seized up, the chain, snapped. They are in the wallpaper. The catalog, will depress you. Envy, is the next, best thing. Her eye had been removed, don’t feed me anymore food. What will happen at the end? Being torn, and ambivalent, is not pleasant. Be the “end of the world nut.” There is no relief, and none forthcoming. Belch into the high and mighty stratosphere. Symbolic ally, even, it’s askance, quiet, barren, as kew, and sparse/stark. For some, intelligence becomes a curse, even a joke. Things were so terribly fucked up, back then, that I thought everything was fine. Wiped off the board, wiped right off the board. Go ahead, hurt your penis. There is no anything, anymore. It’s that projection thing, again. The fortune was fuzzy, very fuzzy. We don’t want to know the unknown, if it’s worse than this. Into the background, sullen and despondent. I stood in line for hours, bewildered. We’ll be going to Finland, next. Are you the fool in the bar, friend? I have decided to live your life. When in doubt, don’t (this is a shocker). My agent is “in a meeting,” again. Last night was last night, I have to shit, today. This is what has happened. Turn on, turn off, remember your death. You and the spoon, those difficult recollections. To be so posh, like an emeritus. In a rage, I said some things. Address the main man, imprudently. Doodle along the margins, abstract terms make a lot more sense. Throw yourself off the curb, fist fuck, prove your code blue desire. Ogle the obelisk, imagine yourself beneath it. We get quite paranoid, find out where it is, and punch a hole there! The wallpaper had the ability to communicate with me. So beautiful, so Scandanavian. Someday, soon, we’ll want to live. Toads the size of muffins are trying to get inside the house. Hopes, dashed; there is no “improving things.” Once we actually do, or (you’ll see me on the news, soon) say something… tremendous (you are the best, the greatest) guilt, etc. It’s total depression, now. Call it, “vagina envy.” To be, is to be something? Written on a wall, in some abandoned building: “punk rock.” That’s how you beat them (?). Being banned, won’t make me rich, or, “cool.” Don’t blame the porn industry. Now, there are actually, two. Rest up? We were losers, by design. Life can be quite troubling. The platypus can successfully swim, underwater. The low self esteem, is getting lower. We used to like people, that was then. He liked to get beaten, and then get his wounds licked. Inquire about the new smoked hams. The world is somewhat illusory. Don’t be a statistical anomally, it may be a punishable offense. In a room, so it seems. I invented that game, hard to believe, is it? I need someone to help me, I am having a very hard time. I can’t even lift this… desk. I sure get fucked a lot, for someone who never has sex. Life as a charlatan, is just not satifying. Save it, and store it, as a single file. It was just so amazing (back then). The stars are not in our favor (the words never come. I implied that my dreams were not my own. This is my thumb. All I want, is what I don’t think that I want. We all end up retarded, in one way or the other. It feels like so long ago (now). They wait to be inspired, it means, zilch.

It was blue roses and patchulli, for a few years. She was the smartest one I ever met (she knows). Every crazy thing that pops into your mind, is money (better). Oh, that fucking wood paneling! The sushi was served on a corpse, above a funeral parlor. Someone around here, smells like candles. There were plenty of sober days, admidst the drunken ones. Put down the candies. Look at this, it’s worse than ever! We feel what they tell us to feel. How could I have let this happen? Ain’t no sunshine underground. I thought at the time, that she was like me. Too radical for my own good, I sulked in the back room. Oh, Jesus, I still love her so much, that I don’t know what to do. Get different (diffident). Some kind of animal, saved by a chef. We know about strife, there are no more arguments. Put some shit in here about China. I can’t recall one word we ever said to one another (while “in love”). I used to have to kick people out, from time to time. We are still melancholy and maudlin, most of the time. Sometimes, we just reverse it. Russian boobs go from back to front. It is in your pants (what they want). Leave what’s in the closet, to the closet. Don’t be a fool, now… She used to like to bite. Dust made our kicks a little less pleasant. Blurt out some stardust, instead of gloom. Beware the cantankerous, the frayed, dispatched, it’s ending. What do you like best? It’s like the dunk tank! The droll, will drool, down the wrong side of the page. We want the truth, at once. Just keep going, there is not going to be any pause button bullshit. Of course, I should know better by now. You’re there, full of Chinese pleasure (butterfly’s). Nothing now, but, theater sounds. Defer everything! What’s the name of the game? I can see my nose with my eyes. The whip and rope appeared to be constructed with brown leather. He’d hoo-hoo-hoo, like a deranged owl. There is nothing up there in heaven, somebody had to break the news. I stood in front of the blue screen, shouting help, for hours. We have new background music, and special effects. You’ll hear nothing from, or about me, once it happens. Blank her in the blank, blank with the blank-blank. We had our ordinary holiday troubles. It was a sign, we’re that far away. It’s time for new ideas, with the old shit. Objective, or subjective (out, or in, the box). What was all gone, is back again. What I need is cocaine, but that’s out of the question. React as a screen would, for awareness. Find the part about the Cuyahoga, or else. The philosophy drop kick, sent me off stumbling, off to a bad start, as they say. Wouldn’t you like to steal a few things (deep purple envy)? They have much nicer carpeting, for one thing. Oh, that patent leather. This is the old shit, to be mixed up with the new. That’s what takes so long. Drink up/grow up! It’ll never end… You will have sex. Like panties on a clothesline (got to grab, and run). Think about winter. They’d just assume kill you, as look at you. I mutilated myself, for no damn reason. Hey, man (I need a pair of damn shoes). I used to be there all the time. If you don’t have friends, your lucky. It’s too damn late to be doing any of this shit, now. I’d do anything to see her, again. Take the happy contradiction, the scars will heal. I’m already pretty much done with it. I’m drifting aimlessly through my life. Wish each one of us luck, in finding the flowers in the dung. They’ll ban my books in Birmingham (either one). Be the missing link, between this and that. Enough stoicism, please. Oh, they’ll all have something to say. Underline this sentence. All this time, I’ve only been fooling myself. We have no place to live. These days, I do most of my writing at stoplights. Another aspect comes together. You are making sense of the senseless era, late. We were the famous. Go for the spandex, “V.” The worm takes to the heart, as if it were an apple. He told me to get, and stay away, from her. Atone’moi (astonish me). Don’t hold anything back, ever. The fat and bitter, try to hide. Leave it all in (there is nothing left to lose). Pray for life, humankind, in general (because it won’t be around too much longer). The smell of burning, is not the same as that of fire. Next time, try fresh fish! By twelve, your life is over. Have fun with arts and crafts. It’s not up to us, most all things. I can’t see the lines on the paper, anymore. You chew too much. All the shades are closed. Turn left onto Shiawasee. Let it drill directly into your head. High on paint thinner, I sang. Nevermind the screenplay, for now. A crooked dentist, gave them the drugs. The only people in this country speaking the truth, are it’s institutionalized maniacs! The asterisk bit me on the cheek, and stole my teeth! Now, my image adorns some kind of ancient woodcut. Clean the floor, Francis (was all I heard). Last time, is this time, again. Draw atomic stars, remember bodily things. She’s spoiled, tell her so. I can’t even hold the lighter. I lie about where I live, a lot. I ran out of money (as to the inconsistency). We used to have poker chips. I can’t even see. She was in high school (the girl with the glasses). What I thought was a lake, was a flood control project. What was that about a magnet? Cocktails and basketball, staring at the wall. What city was that? At that point, everything had to be admitted to. I just spilled pop over everything that matters (on purpose). Chris got famous before me, and he deserved to. Touch me, please (mentally). Expand on various sections. How do we know if our experiences are worthwhile? Take out the f-words, and we’ve got a deal? Don’t worry, this will all go away, soon enough. Oh, sweet darling, I adore you so. Nothing “popped.” We tried blood and violence, it made us crestfallen. The tree was older than the country, and they cut it down. Call it “almost semen.” There was blood on that window pane, for eight years. He was conceited, vitriolic, bibilous. My nervous ticks come close to describing me. Memorize the gone… I await the character assassination.

011

It all seems so ridiculous to me. She claimed to have once fucked a doorknob (got it around, and, uh, so on). I can’t get the taste of cheese out of my mouth. We do what we do, until we have to stop. My face is covered in sterile gauze. Our thumbs resemble Manatee’s. Try to stop thinking! The ambience will be trash cans and broken glass, soon. I can feel my head, slipping away from my brain. Did he say bass, or perch? We want to quit, forfeit the game, lose – but we fucking, can’t! Orchestrated still life’s, attack! All hope is tarnished. The radio tower (I loved)! It was all just a fashionable movement, a trend, a ruse, a farce, a scam. Survival is impossible. Take a bow, fuckhead. You’ve got the flavor. Do more than just try. We’re useless, as a part of their schemes. Some people actually engage in sexual intercourse. Shove your puppet show! Rig up an apparatus! What’s the use? He was dancing on the courthouse steps. Be chased home. It’s very odd, being out of your wits. Make an effort, out at the Sarasota Flats. Don’t be a goddamn diva! Charles was a Eucharistic minister, in the parallel world. The manikin got it, right up the ass. Stuck in Clio (oh, boy). There is a shame that is not discussed. The flesh between your legs, it titillates you? Push down the plunger. Life has taken on a more tragic dimension. We picked the raspberries. Biofeedback reaches back and slaps your ass, above the fallout shelter. Misuse the denture adhesive glue/paste. A marketing whiz, a coup d’etat. Smooth the ruffled feathers of the dead bird, back down. Go to the office. Life is a lot less of a gas, since you left. The levels have shifted! Grumpy gets the magic egg. This is the final chapter. The images are subtly changing, we need great gift ideas. Host a fondue party! Argue about bologna! My feet hurt, this is not what we wanted. No one buys milk at the liquor store! It’s easy for them, not us. Write a crazy, abstract scene. Don’t hurt her, don’t hurt my lover. Casino losers hang out downtown, now. The sexual tension, this needs to be arranged. Try it without a net. The beverage will be spilled, Ms. Mulchey, it will be spilled. I’ll never be able to live this down, these will not be a second book. That ain’t got nothin’ to do with becomin’ a man. Shit, it’ll never be done. Try to be even crazier! The machine will toss you off for about five bucks a throw. None of us are ever going to be normal, again. Make them feel some of your fear. I’m talking about rolling around in the dirt, with my clothes off. I drank too much, like a frustrated supermodel. Some sort of injury was incurred on the slide. Beauty will find it’s way to the beautiful, eventually. Too many generic thoughts are being broadcast. The eighteen grand, is gone. The day for action, will dawn. Oh, so lonesome, in the truck, by the side of the road. Little goofball, sure can run! Too many pitfalls, “someday,” seems pretty distant (at this point). Don’t dare dip into my Dixie! Nobody talk. The roses have wilted for the year. One life, we repeat to ourselves, over and over. He died back when I died, but me died with more money. They will no doubt, rub you the wrong way, kitty. We must have decided to drink as much alcohol as possible. The points we’ve got to make, will never be allotted sufficient time in which to be proved. You can always get a refund, so they claim. The lonely shoplifter, who they made an example of. We’re just not strong enough. Never give up (be defeated). We don’t know the shit we need to know. If it isn’t good, don’t put it in. It must become something worth putting all of this energy into. My delirium, is getting a lot worse (a lot of shit, is). We hope against hope, that nothing else goes wrong. Visualize the outcome (it’s all I can do). We’ve got to know what we really want, now. Death is happening now, for sure. No entity is going to help you get started. It’s like that vague, fingernail pain (kind of). Piece of shit (what?) record? We don’t have any work. Listen to maudlin music, at top volume.

010

What does your mood ring say this time? The causes, aren’t, anymore. This is such a fucking mistake. That probably is blood on the fence. Collect useless information, like… They make it too easy for us. Analysis, is no doubt, required. I’m not going to make it, but maybe, you will. I am not what you think. What kind of machine was used? At this point, I can say, that it probably can’t be done. Set yourselves apart from the rabble, the herd… Don’t let her screw this up. Leeches, on the book… Advertising is a lie, a myth. I was standing over there. Why do I go on? They’ll invent one, for us. All life long, the shuck and jive act. Tell me that I’m normal, Doctor. You won’t take my breath from me. I belong in jail. We all believe too many lies. Feel up the sex routes. What is the point of all this? She raped me. What happens to us? Well, if I had my toilet. Nothing is clean, clear, or easy. I am sedate, almost extinct. I made my inappropriate blunders. There is no reason, no meaning, there is nothing but nothing. Don’t continue to fool yourselves. The bell tolls, the birds, chirp. Flick the frozen ice flow, down. The old school, hasn’t changed. I flush the toilet, so often. Use what you have to use, but do not touch her tits. Pacing through the room has become difficult. I think someone’s in the next room. Look for the dog bowl. The chickens were riled up. The very weird, are unable to stop being so. You made me miss you, baby. It takes a lot of time to wind up like this. Liberty may not actually exist. Ignore the smear of white across the black. Passion costs too much. The doubt, collapses us. Smash the faces of the pious. A spoon was used. My nightmares are a little different from yours. Make a fucking movie! Poverty wages, still. All I can do is sit here, and stare off into space. My face has shrunken, smaller than my head. Soon enough, each and every one of us will be dead. She didn’t love me (end of the interview). It’s as if no matter what we do, it doesn’t make any difference. The spice of life, is not terragon. They know what I’m talking about. Talk to me! The horses were euthanized. It is very, very expensive. One leads to the other. Ravens on the roof, real ravens. Let us live some other kind of life, somewhere else. I want to kick myself in the face, launch into a tirade. The digger is still out there, still out there. I gave them the card (hours of fun). The bruises take a long time to heal, the rain seems to blend in with our tears. For all the talk about change, not one thing, has. Trust no one, double check on everything. They will all want to hate me, but they’ll just be unable to. The boys who put on the roof, smoked reefers up there. A miracle might be a miracle, even if it’s, “only physics.” Some of us know our shortcomings, all too well. There is no chance in hell… The chintzy, cheapo products, are very expensive. They found the underwear that I had hidden. Tear it down, at the foundation. That was my life, before it ended. What did I say, that one day? It’s all so embarrassing now, these things that I do. It is like poison, this love stuff. He used to ride the go-cart around. You’ve got to lose consciousness. Who will help me now that I’m all alone? What does any of this shit, matter? Take the rusty spade out into the garden. Reality drifts by, like a dream. So sleepy, so in need of what I cannot have. Slam them together, save some space. My mid-life crisis was at twenty four. Why must I live? Our view is blocked, we can’t see. All I ever want to do anymore, is sleep. Call it a rubber sack abomination. The only thing to do at night is jack off. The retirement home! Of course, I got caught. Then, our mother’s die. Cartoons are on! My penis doesn’t fit in my own vagina. I’m waiting for the trial (my own). And sure enough, I was completely wrong. It’s like, retarded, this handwriting. Terror destroyed my chances to grow. Some may protist! Piss in the area in between the shed and the garage. No more driving around in circles. Rant it out. Too damn repetitive, no more good nights. I’m reading my own mind. My hair is up in curlers. Yes, I’m back on the cigarettes. Low, now I even look like a child molester. When, by telephone, I last spoke to you, the news I received was grim. I want to add something there. We’re so fucking upset with everything. Talk your silly nonsense. The bird is up, again. Save me, or else I’ll kill again. Stay out of there. I guess I deserve my failure. My eyes are not quite open. My life is totally pointless. That’s your opinion. The teeter totter has been uprooted. They’ll come after you. The two facts, are that there is no such thing as god, and we are not free. We get wet watching water boil, now. I wanna’ shout this! The truth is, that I’m just another loser. Keep religion out of everything, especially your own minds. She can’t read, she’s done me wrong, this is preposterous. Are the orders, done? Perfection, does occur. Roast your oysters, underground. The numbness causes a deep fear. It was a ceramic rabbit, out in the park. We’re drowning. My mind went left, as my brain went right. Hog on the back tit, with desperation. We don’t notice the green grass, anymore, just the goose shit (why?). All I do is compulsively scratch my neck. I claimed the writing was “experimental,” a lot. The motel is an office building, now (low rent). It was a performance art experiment. We’re ripe for some far out, blue, psychedelic thing. Don’t stand for it, and don’t sit down. Haven’t vacant landscapes.

As you know, luck does not really exist. The sign said please don’t feed the bears, but they were waving at us. Too much restlessness, not enough ease, the recipe for a heart attack. I’ve become an appliance, to use infrequently. The canoe tipped, for some reason, I panicked. This is it, this is always, it. Well, we’ve probably always been delusional. Now is the only time that we have designated, for sleep. We exited the suicide room. Constantly in and out of jail (enough!). The picnic tables were all stacked, one on top of the other, like some daisy chain. Everyday, the same things keep happening. The mortal coil is unraveling, and will take us with it. See part two. Out of luck, indeed. The hobby shop is boarded up. It’s all just virtual, now. Be the onion, testify that the truth, is true. The paradox box has got me more than trapped in. Touch my unsightliness, now. I smell like mold and mildew, I can taste it in my mouth. I live under the radio tower, I know a lot of lesbians. Go for biology, it’s better than nothing. Like a pigeon, I peck the disk. The dam was sublet, the laundry mat drug bust, troubled me. You shot me with your ray, I scratched off all my parts. Nihilism is the most direct representation, the true facts, are learned off the street. We’re deprived of full consciousness, we hope for some kind of something, someday. It was supposed to easily segue into something else. Bring out the hidden midgets, this time, to party! Climb up, and go into, the silo. The diner still stands. I am now eligible, to vanish. The gum, will be incessantly chewed. Will product X, lift the stain? The bindings, coils, whatever, are rusted. We got back into our bodies, too late. There is something wrong, it is not, in any way, right. Fake your orgasm, miss your lost hat, expose the charade for what it is, pitch the damn tent. I am all boxed up in my own stiffness, mold is all over the old baseball glove. This book was my first mistake, and my last. The smallest straw, was chosen. He stole the fake, plastic badge, from off of the desk. We worked so hard, failed, so miserably. The ice cream cone was licked, as if it was a huge vagina (we were so bored). The act was committed. Count how often you blink. Finish this! Make the gluten, last. Back to the burlesque! In a fit of rage, well, the window became broken. Now, a union of the genitals. Taste the essence, reserve a buoy, go all the way to the end. There are only so many resources. I lived your life, used Roman holds. Discharge the fundamental, go in instinct. Not no, but hell no (it’s a lot easier). We almost got kicked out of school, for that stunt. Passionate myths, had us back in the chem lab. Blow it up your sonnet, put it in your bonnet, just walk away. Elongate (get the two of them, together). Nose hair is so pleasing. This man was hollerin’, and yellin! You assholes cut down the tree. I cannot get over the size of her feet. I used to be afraid to look, but that was before. These aren’t from the cabinet? Ignore the cat, it is beyond insane. Yeah, a little bit of both, I guess. Oh, no, no, no, no. The verdicts were just, justice was served (on a silver platter, with the head). I’m gonna’ hump you in your pajamas, with tools, with help, with the pets watching. Sleep it off, forever (right wing bastards). We forget what we were going to say… too often. The other part, I’ve forgotten. Answer your own prayers. The riddles I speak in, are incalculable. She’s so glamorous, touchy, sexy-sexy. The tits on the statues, were alert/erect (so fine, so firm). We love it, we hate it, and we won’t ever leave it, even if we go. Is it tucked, or folded? There are so many others. He works at the gas station. Say it! I’m nothing but a conduit, for her. When you catch yourself looking at old school papers, you’re in trouble. She already got rid of the car that she won, on the game show. There used to be opportunities, possibilities, little tingles, anticipatory excitement, and the like. The fruit is ripe, your time has come. At this point, what we had to lose, was lost. Void where prohibited (wherever I happen to be), terms and conditions apply (to keep me from the savings). Three and a half selves, begged to go to the library. You’ll get laid, aplenty (to the concerned). It isn’t going to be too neat and clean. He and a twelve year old girl went canoeing together, the trip didn’t go too well. The despondent bird, waved to cars weakly, from the side of the road (middle of winter, for no honks, or rewards). I want it, and yes, I know that I shouldn’t (can’t, etc.). You’ll see me, when the theater opens. My right leg has more support, than the left one, because of the hose. I dreampt of all the goodbye’s, that I never said. I slid down the ravine, and into a thicket, cut my forehead up to hell. Please, you’re giving me your depression. Don’t give me no jive, this is where it begins. It’s all detours, time is the enemy, now. It does matter, shut the hoof, out! The blank spots are caused by the numb one’s. Improvise off of the dream. A special angle was tried out, another theme, rendition. There was no dinner! Whimper… The grave yards are all full, the checks are all cashed. We’ve been amazed by the junkies, long enough. Into the clapboard shack, hair extensions, bought and paid for. It is simply astounding, that which is forgotten. Snort, ever so suddenly. See, he’s down to spare change, too. We seek comfort, at our peril. It would appear as if, the devil were in us. Give them the “fag sign.” Feast on the as yet, undeveloped. Take out the coal ashes. Dutton is a speed trap, now. There are always a number of things that you should have been doing, but weren’t… It repeats itself, constantly. Caress the undead (the blank).

These are my thoughts, or something. Deal with it, just, deal with it (make love to me [click!]). I’ve had too many dreams, and not enough reality. If I get on the bus, don’t be surprised. Why did you choose to wear those eyeglasses? Statues, and their shadows, remind themselves of one another. You will soon be accosted, by me. Different people answer these questions in different ways. Our stories bore them, we slide around, like some kind of jelly. What scares us the most, is that everything makes perfect sense. He is a sick fuck (we’re all, sick fuck’s). The solutions have caused worse damage than the original problems. The tree’s fell off of the leaves, essentially. It was endless horror and torment, despair and confusion (school). Liquor was spilled, and a howl was let out. My silly, schoolgirl nervousness, is just going to have to go away. The wood was stacked, the unseen were sneered at, the hype was kept alive, until the checks were cashed. We need a different set of words, for these misleading religious terms. Put a question mark down there, somewhere. New age, porno, sex sounds, are reverberating through my head. The pictures we paint, will get more and more, grim. You shouldn’t drink (was my early warning, too late). It will click, like a light, on. The saurkraut must have been burning, and the scent leaked into my clothing. I am perpetually crooked, and on the wrong angle/axis. The uncanny, is a mouth full of vomit. Ignore me! Other people’s weaknesses, could very well, destroy you. You’ve got to do your own (lollipop’s) homework. We’re designed to die. I’ve had my share of misconceptions, have been, at times, too abstract. We attempted to write rainbows, and were left with black on white. Prepare now, for what can’t be prepared for (it’s some kind of slide rule thing). We’re done with the (she had a New Hampshire, mouth) whole lot of it. Are your hands, curving? Accuse yourself. There is a dead bird, in between the two walls, of that house. This house is haunted, not cursed. All of the life has been sucked out of me. The characters are atop the building. You are so damn, safe. Skinny dippin’, in a beehive. Too many long lunches… Let the cities burn, as you huff on your ether. I have this compulsion, to be compulsive. Nothing pleasurable, really is, in the long run. The best and worst of everything, is neither good nor bad. The best smell, is gasoline. Sprawl up and into, next time. I’ve said (and written) some strange shit. I keep living through the same nightmares. All plans change, yet stay the same. I painted the hallway, caught the fish, rocked out, played the role, waxed the apples, shined the bowl. They only remember the bad things that you do. Lift’s? No matter what, this is the end. Slash the stupidity right out of yourself. It really doesn’t much matter, what we do, or don’t do, now, does it? Put the accent over the “e”. That is what I smoked. Philosophy is a process, a discipline, and a lifelong pursuit. It’ll be just like wrestlin’, to get close to that skin. Get over the fist fuck, please (take her back to the hotel). Remember the first stumble across the moon (drunken experience). A man in a rubber lined room, screams; “I can’t let them shut me down, Ma.” It ended me, like they said it would. Like an all out blitz, that we didn’t understand. A flit danced alone, under a tent. She was erotic with the circus animals. Oh, we all try! Don’t go too far, don’t even look at my face. Suspect the “perfect,” first. My own boat has long since, sailed off, without me. We’re as rootless as cabbages. Maybe it’s just escapist drivel. Act beautiful, no one will be able to tell. I don’t deserve anything, but, believe that I do. My impulsivity got me into trouble. Go to the edge, again. I went off into the apple orchard, so damn angry (could have pulled the apples right off the trees). The foundations need to be smashed (for starters). Go on, erase all that remains. It is! We’re unlike you. Get a couple of big one’s (logs). Maybe there’s no head to hurt. Differentiate between smart and dumb, you dipshit. I see, I know, I understand ( a lot of good that does me). Blah, blah, blah (the pitch is made). It’s so damaging, the horrible overflowing. The dead had their chances, now, it’s our turn. I don’t miss any of this (to be read after I’m dead)! Nobody ever taught us to learn? Corrupt your favorite vowels. The gun, “just went off.” I notice that (left unfinished). There are no white coated lab technicians (where I’m going). You’re Latino! Let me be you, do no harm (blow me). The mall: avoid it. Bust a move, Chico. There was a slapfest on the veranda, I hung out at the cemetery. We yell in the morning, hit at night. The star is the lighting/lightning. Honey, dripping out of the pot. The whirly gigs, are most likely, not there anymore. Look inside the holes in the wallpaper, where there used to be tacks, that held up pictures. He’s in the secret pocket. We used to go to the dances. Now, all I do is lie here, on this cold slab of steel. I know that you’ve got the tightest little pussy this side of the Mississippi, thanks be to God. Categorize it, no more freaking out. Don’t tear out his hearing aid. It’s too damn hard, I think. This dimestore novel, will cost a nickel. It’ll drive me through, to the absolute end. I don’t have any insurance. I can no longer stand to sit here (please, stand by). Start the stupid game. This was something else, before. It won’t add up correctly. Don’t you yell at me! Luck no longer plays a part. Those fresh bakery smells, were merely illusions, that allowed us to live there as long as we did. Carry on! I always end up, paying.

009

Curds and whey, curds and whey. We had some sick sex plans, they didn’t work out. Someday, I’ll be better able to explain myself. We weren’t kidding, then. All that I seem to be able to do, is sleep. Miracles with lighting, not lightning. Do you know the real horrors of depression? Listen to the neighborhood kids, yelling off in the distance. Analyze, over cocktails. Why can’t I get to what I’ve go to do? I’ve never felt my softness this way. The car sits in the driveway, like a dead animal. Going onward. I picked some hardened mucus out of my ear. Don’t make me sit through this. The answer is always, no. A seriph made love to me. I grew tired of her inverted nipples. There is no explanation for any of my behavior. I need to be on drugs, but, alas, I’m not. Something smells horrible, I’m trying to be, more. Become superior, if possible (try, anyway). I’ve lost the ability to perform “the dance of death.” The other side of the paper probably can’t be used. The amusement park, is closed, for good. There are so many more distractions, now. I couldn’t even choose the damn, title. Our focus is on the cash. There is no lasting pleasure. Something is rotting, nearby. It’s really, really dangerous. Be obsessed with your adopted town, because you hate it. Honorable, yet, defunct. There are psychological reasons. Unfortunately, we’re never alone. Wasting time, may be the only thing left to do. We will all, fail (get used to it). Lesbians called me names. Why can’t any of us do anything about the predicaments that we find ourselves in? Just try a little bit harder. So many years of nothing to do. Bite the pop bottles! Find out what you don’t want to do. More shit is breaking. There is absolutely nothing to do. The cans were crushed and thrown over there. All bottles/cans, must be returned. It’s like the sociopath’s slip stitch. She was the one using her tongue. The bowl was broken, accidentally. The plug is falling out of the outlet. The dream of measuring feet. Some advertisement women, are seductive. The lower floors are unfinished. Know what to look for. Make your way back up, now. Shit on my shoe, again. Former decades keep invading the current one. I have no senses to speak of, anymore. It makes it interesting, by tearing everything apart. Pursue virtue, or else. We’re stuck here, and must do all that we can. Stop listening to music, for your own good. They make it too easy for us. My shitty life, is full of nothing. I will never get over it. Off we went to the lawn mower parade. Stop short, try to switch gears, do as I say. Who the hell is keeping track of all this, anyway? Someone let out a loud utterance. The four dimensional, International Festival, began and ended. No greatest hits… No more fucking (ever). The powerlines go all the way across the parking lot. It should all be in the upcoming version. Define it, soundly. This will surely destroy me. Did I really do what I did? I didn’t do anything with any ladies shoes! This will never be in there, a part of that. The issue is my lack of concern. It isn’t even done. The damn kid scribbled all over the book. Half of all of it, seems to be lost. Come on now, git! Charlie said I was useless. What the hell does “cool” mean? I’ve got to get it out of me. Where are we going, anyway? I’ll tell you now, in all honesty, that this could become a problem. Tall tree swoop downs, a hockey player in heat. Please, hurry, stop fooling yourself. My ear heard unhuman sounds. Now is then, dig? You, too, will be afraid. My hair, falling out. Push your penis into the plushness of the stuffed animal. It’s as if I were caught, you know. A spiders web of deceit, was sketched. Once it’s typeset for the final time… Refuse to work. We know what we are, but we’d rather not know such things. She’s naughty, she’s devilish. My life, is for the most part, nonexistent. Those songs were all prerecorded (mediocre). What can any of us do? Study mathematics, or else. Strain and push, half hovering, over the toilet. Listen closely to those beautiful background vocals. What kind of lead did they use? Someone out there is going to wind up sucking your dick. Jelly feels like pussy. What is first and foremost on most people’s lists? You are in the book. Some big contest? The fortunate know how fortunate they are. Day and night, are one. My main problem, is myself. They use the cheapest possible wood. Go ahead, be crazy. I don’t know if I like change, or not. George used to put the donuts into the cases. It was one of my more bizarre pronouncements. Damn those lesbians. Heal the dog, by all means. If only this were “automatic writing.” I’ve been found out. Automatic pencil sharpeners (in cars). All our dreams are drained out, like pus from some sore. We’re cutting too close! Relent, relent to me… Get the secret code. We ate hamburgers and drank beer, at the old Devil’s Halo Bar. Sure looks nice, all curled up like that (mmm-hmm). Blood on the pain (individuated sorrow). Don’t talk about fire, understand the carpeting. This is only the contour of the arc. Start the damn school. Hell is better than this. Nothing can save me now. If it weren’t for our whims and fancies, nothing would happen. Don’t, under any circumstances, give up without trying. No more caring. You too, have been, “studied.” I can’t even move, anymore. Well, I guess I miss her, some. You’ll get caught, eventually. There is nothing to twirl. My armpits smelled exactly like hers. We shouldn’t have done what we did! Called crazy, fat, and many other things. Surge into the excess, be thrilled by loneliness. Do whatever the hell you want. It isn’t edible (the odor, is horrible). The tracks converged, and several poems were written. Chew more carefully. Pus in the scabs (my mind). I somehow imagined parts of the town, that were never there. Obscurity can land you in places where you don’t want to be. It feels like dying (getting this book written, and published). They’re squeezable.

What I thought was so great, really wasn’t. State Fair, baby, State Fair (depressed). We just want a chance, and there aren’t any. I want to phone you. Must go further. Nobody knew the neighbors there, either. Scram! Her business cards were cheap (a sign). Our lives are like grandma’s old music boxes. Contemplate the plumbing fixtures. Well, I suppose you could say that I’m another Scout, gone wrong (somehow). I cried when I looked in the chest full of old puppet’s. Don’t blame her, she’s still under the impression that these things do themselves. Serious, is the only way to be, babycakes. It’ll just get bigger and bigger (the phenomenon). My baby doll, my sweet pea. You are going to have to use bleep buttons on me, because I no longer give a shit. They’ll outlive you and out-live you (the rich). Does it rub you the wrong way, like the cat that turned evil? It’s as if we’re being punished. She was as Swedish as those candy fish. That’s the challenge, catching them, doing what they do, in the bathroom. Don’t let me in (the in group). Cremation is the only option, now. We’re never leaving home. I’ve started to repeat myself. Those elaborate canes belonged to people who died. We got the horse feed. I can’t believe we’re out of gas, again. I looked for her house, couldn’t find it. A lot of lessons, to be learned. There was a half of a town there. Some things are perfect. He’s still living out on Blair Mill Road. It all happened too late to matter. These legalities will not stop me. We were desperate for experiences we would never have. People are hiding out. Get in lock step with their beat, or else. The torment will continue. A pimp looked me over like I was black angus beef. I stole the junkie hotel towels, didn’t touch the soaps. I too, think up scenarios, make big plans, think fast. We sat very still. We got off the train, drunk, and stumbled into “dynamic” Mr. President’s night club. Lo, and behold, just that, lo, and behold. There was a real pimp, there, in purple velvet. For a summary of act one, see the epilogue. I can’t duplicate that. A hat you can’t take. Her name is Athena Aphrodite! Into the bath tub, for privacy. Somebody has to keep track of the things that we didn’t/don’t. The snakes turned into shit, the shit turned into snakes. Two nights in the “Downtowner.” A long delivery, eh? There was an awful lot of confusion in the drug store, today. Someone would see you. For the record, I simply can’t be broke anymore. We got our tits tangled together. Illegal activities, are occurring. For the most part, I suck. Add in another fifty (be impersonal). Shelby, get a room, plan your attack. Last year, was a season in hell, in itself. I can’t remember the stove. Use charts, and diagrams, show us exactly where and what, it is. You are not that other person. It’s only fair, only fair (tantamount to forlornness). Get out the wrong side of the van. Not on the books! Every fluid, with it’s corresponding smell. It is another, “life as a b movie, thing.” Be like the old man who never leaves his house (grumpy, subdued, isolated, strange). New York is like a batcave/superdome. As I walked away, I had some thoughts. Get into that kitchen, and perform those functions. Most of the tanks are gone, things couldn’t get any worse. I have to piece together the last year and a half, well, the garbage pails are different. The dead rockstar talked to her, from a poster on the wall. I was told to go ahead and offend every last one of them. Another make or break year, broken. Make philosophy into policy. One of his claws fell off. Call the toll free number! Don’t have any needs. Stream of consciousness, eh? Heidi is in here. How about, river of foolishness? The lottery is fixed. If I kick the blinds, in just such a way, the light that comes into the room, shines on the wall in such a way, as to resemble a slide show. Don’t believe their claims of, “huge savings.” Ink on your hands, no coordination. There is really no way. Be anti-family, show things the way they really are. Let me rub it, slip into a new mode (it’s always a crisis, and then, I fell). Pretend to be a cowboy. Every day, I scrape up against it, and wish I could mount it. Go overboard, on the learning. My big toe is neurotic. None of us can handle it, what was written in the book. She lost her plumb, threw off the time and number lines. Perhaps, dinosaurs, are an invention of toy companies. Oh, there will be good times, but not for us. Emily (just checking)! All we do, is not enough, what is easy, contains no rewards. Semantics took over, to know yourself, is impossible. Shine your face up, greasy (it’s about consistency). I refute it, by referring to Idaho. Indecency reigns, in this day and age. Give an instance, when the fish were swimming upwards. Try to recall, the impossible coherence, the enclosed, self addressed, stamped envelopes. They are not going to make dolls, out of us. Towel chewing (anticipation). Save us, from worse than this. Play your tuba, with your mouth closed. My dashboard is adorned and festooned with saints, made out of plasticene. She tests the waters, first. A creature rose out of the marsh. You be the judge. Existence is a scratch, there is no way of knowing. You screwed that thing to the ceiling. Um, the fruit, if unpicked, falls off the tree. Make a triumphant sound, like a cash register. Oh, just let it all collapse, over there (scream louder). My thought has corroded, there are no excuses, it must be shifted into focus… These optical illusions are more deceiving than they used to be. Don’t you fuck with me! Oh, the abomination! The grief inherent in this life, and it’s sauce. It’s on your finger. All of my dreams are gone, forgive me, while I continue on, regardless. I should just leave it behind. They keep cutting down all the trees. Give me the money, before I go crazy for good, and for real. I’m (we’re) dying, in the wrong way(s). The numbers aren’t corresponding. It’s silk handkerchiefs and gourmet food, for them. The book was only my dissertation on being. A lot of objects can fit up a human ass. Nothing good is ever going to happen, to/for, the likes of us. It just gave/gives, me something to do. More than any other, that’s the one I… Maybe I’ll never think the right things. The old scarecrow did a slow and peculiar jig, and then disappeared. In this particular scene, how should I be feeling, inside? Those were the grades and scores, that I received. I will never discuss my shame, with you. The way we fake and pretend, you’d think we’d be more successful. We’re all a different book, written in a different language. Pinch off a few pounds, for the upcoming dog show. Steal the shovel, the fire helmet. Prove it! This, as we know, is why I fail. I often wonder, if I’ve gone too far. I think that she really screwed something up. Be gentle, be sage? The devil came after me, with a moist sponge. We die, so what (why does it bother us so much?)? There are no special words. I didn’t go far enough, west. They see right through me, it’s not that hard to do. Do it, like they do it, or wind up like me (a warning). We’re always at the bottom, climbing up. I can feel it in my arms. I got worse, it keeps starting over. Do we really know what we’re doing (we just can’t believe it)? It’s got to work, and it isn’t working. Blood, came out of my mouth. Justice was swift, I went down. We looked around for you, but you weren’t there. It’s going to end up being a very long trip, indeed. He used to put honey in his ass, and do things in the booths. One of them, began screaming, and pounding on the walls! It’s like a cloverleaf pattern, sometimes. Flick the crisis, out of your black box.

008

Candles, ashes, blood, Styrofoam. Another series of shrill cries, from the damned. Slide, the fast way, get it done. I beg your pardon, all of you. They keep us too busy to question anything. My detractors will be powerful, well connected. They make them out of wax. Are you listening? They won’t tell. There is no easy way, to do anything. Take your easy answers, and shove them! I feel it, I feel it, and it’s too late for prevention, now. Hump, like a horny guy in a boat. There ain’t no more silliness, or sunshine. Like the permanent squeeze. We are all in pain, we work at night. They tore the treehouse out of the tree. She was my popcorn girl. Dental health, low mileage. I can barely move, anymore. We lie to ourselves, quite a bit. This doesn’t seem like it’s in English. It’ll all come unglued, it will fall apart. Nobody is really, truly, innocent. We’re living every single question, out there. We sat in the parking lot of the First Presbyterian church, drinking warm beer. No hope, is really not true. Lick it like it was a dandelion. Throw the cat’s scratch toy, through the wall. The computer screws everything up, it’s designed into the program. It’s all for sale, or lease (why don’t they just give up?). I can’t help feeling, that I haven’t done enough. Yeah, but can you stand on top of it? They gave us plenty of chances. Worm like, I slither, and slide. Sweet pea, this is for you (oh, I love you, baby). We used to laugh more, at the impossibility of it all (something changed). Well, everything may be different, but not better. Don’t rush through the editing. Tear out the integrity, tape it on the wall. It was all camouflaged, in. Don’t be privy, to nothin’. I just can’t take it, anymore. She was sexy, not anymore, no one knows what happened, all of the sudden (marriage). Being happy, is just not our lot, nor should it be. I can’t make up my mind (no way, do not be glib). It’s like a closed head injury… New yellow, starts before, “can you see?” All references to god, death, meaninglessness, suicide, and so on, have been removed. We just need to switch some things around, now. We bought dirt. The distress is still present. There isn’t a cloud in the sky. Why are we the way we are? I’m getting the distinct impression, that I’ve been found out. The paper has become quite conscious. Rub up against them, next time. Them asses is fine, for fuckin! I put in countless applications… It’s all in here, but it’s not enough. The economic system is so false, so faux. Stay out of the workaday world. Communities and cultures, are bullshit. All I do, everyday, is sit there. Yes, I do believe that there were some very strong feelings. I now despise the sound of lead, moving across paper. I’d be happy just to see it, in it’s final form. What do they expect us to do? Wait. That’s what all the fuss is about, a toilet paper roll? It’s so pointless, and repetitive; that it’s tragic, dangerous. This has been such a waste of time, that it’s finished me. I used to be a riot, but that was before all of this. You don’t even need that much of an imagination, anymore (it’s right out in the open). Do you see it, the shit worth taking pictures of? This is the way that they want it! I erased the part about what I wanted to do with that girl who lives over there. The little things, will floor you. Where is my red pencil, now? Just leave the repetitive parts, in. I can’t stop, and it will cost me. Nothing ever happens (changes), really. Green was the myth of the… There isn’t any time, to do things, right. Whir along, like the steam in the windows. There are things we can do, and those we cannot. I am the living embodiment, of Hong Kong. We’re stuck in our lives, our secret identities, we are not rousing successes. I guess I was supposed to be dead, before now (my obituary, was short). Bitch, I’m depressed/distressed, for real reasons! Everything is so damn, extreme. This is my last chance, it also happens to be my only chance. We sweat, like Earl used to. Sweet girl, the shirt said. I tried to make something of myself, and look what happened! Piece of metal, with hole inside! It was all supposed to roll, much smoother. It’ll never be enough, at all, in any way. This is actually worse than death (this life, from time to time). After what we’ve been through, we beware. Pick your nose, over near the spice rack. Sitting in traffic, wondering, “Why me”? there is no more to hum. Up, one, two, spaces? Some wine, was spilled, evidently. Remember the apple blossoms! You were the owl, you were the owl. Get up, and live, shout it out. Hedge, disengage, be incomplete, a motel dweller. Flutter, little butterfly girl. Torture is better than this. The weirdest thing is, they already know, they see you as exactly who/what, you are. Ham hocks, up, and deep inside of you. What will be your trademark? It’s another lost cause. There is no way of knowing. The pink towel, was used. I can’t get up off the cold, barren ground. I inspired myself with nudie pictures (see below). It filled up. Stop it, please stop it. That’s fucked up (her name is in there, somewhere). It isn’t done. Let me disguise myself. This is nuts! There is some regularity. The sound of rain is all we have, now. Eat grease, fat fuck. We need time. You’re like a psycho, what is this shit? It wasn’t just, it was a lagoon. I’m worried about your mind, this has to stop. I partially crossed the street. It won’t get any better. You sanded my garage, you keep me up at night. My ignorance dumbfounds me. Put in the orders. I swear that if I wanted to… I could put you in a mental institution. Are you high, or drunk? Please, look, can’t we just forget all this play acting and bullshit, and go back to the way things used to be? I masturbated with that ladies underpants. You’ll see, one day. I love you, or, used to. Define this “better self.” You are you, to criticize me? Who are you? Where are we going, when we go out? I mean, you’re gone. This is too much, and it’s gone too far. Have you called your mother lately? Let’s see a Doctor, this is really beyond my capacity to understand…and this can’t go on. Sarah, please… You are nothing but the living personification of semen, you are nothing but semen to me. Flick the snot over there. Let’s try to avoid certain parts of this. He gave into the fear. Where is the rookery? It just isn’t going to work out. There was a woman at the zoo, who made people horny. This is the fear that knows no bounds. Bleed English, all over the latin bible. Oh, what a novel idea (pick an idea, any idea). Fly that crazy contraption home. Trees do not “just attack people! Flip over the organ stool and holler (until the end of time). Concentric circles engulf us, like fire. Indeed, I understand curiosity. Do they still have the ice rink inside? Thank goodness for naughty girls. I feel very foul, all the time. It was condemned and torn down, before I could move out. They say I took the easy way, out.

I hear the noises, again (am regarded as a maniac). There are more depressing things. By a wave of the hand, or, better yet, a wave of the wand (penis)… total cures. It’s like, on purpose. One day we’re alive, the next, we’re dead. Just like in Poland, the glasses were clinked, the candles, blown out. She was a woman of bad behavior. Food is too expensive, I’d just assume be in the hospital. Stay off the wrong side of the street, copper. Worry is tension on top of tension. Spin out silly nonsense, like nothing. This is exactly what it’s like to be crazy. Await instructions, very close (airport). There would appear to be a lack of balance, here. Go to where the torn down building, was. So smug, so damn smug, and partial. Face the cartel, down. Nothing connects. You will never understand my pain, nor will I, understand yours. My hate will be my end. We fucked on the floor, like animals (but, psst, secret). It’s over, it’s high time to lay all this shit aside. It’s the terror of ourselves. The crows dive bombed the hawk during an apparent dispute of some kind. The time may indeed, be now. Surrounded by these prohibitions. I grew up on a farm. You are as foolish and crazy as your female descendents. Some things, do repeat. Explore the anti-itch toilet seat. Norman went overboard. Try to stay asleep. Speak of your contemptuous resentment. Make me! Anti-decency’ll get you far. Piss on the faces of the ones who hate you. I put some items in a box. Society is only a morality play. The numb, blank, walk forward, is getting dull. Bring back the bullshit! At the last stop, wonder. Moods play too much of a part in our lives. Let the rich, golf. Not everyone can afford, “the basics.” Back to the rescue mission for another hand out. Sometimes, I get so damn upset. Put this elixir on your cysts. Descartes was a fish! There are no next steps to take, it ends here. You can’t have my entire life. Because I can cure you of your sins. I had my fucking chance, and blew it. Stop hurting (and waiting). This is my last chance for any kind of life at all, and though you don’t care, I do. I know it isn’t in your mind, Senator. Understand the differences, in genetic terms. Do what is painful, to stop the pain. We’re the few, who don’t want to be movie stars. They know what you’re doing. Some, would rather be dead than alive (the dead). There was a closed down potato chip factory up there, too. Mexico was a travesty, the football was sliced in half. I’m not a “positive thinker.” The whole damn thing, is crazy. There are a few tastes or flavors as rich, as blood. Don’t give up, or in, ever. Things are unbearable, I am unconscious. A little bit of terror, never hurt anybody. Take some advice from the dead. Sissy ain’t got nothin’ on you, baby. Play hopscotch over by the railroad tracks. Insanity strikes, like a snake. At least, act straight. My demeanor is unpleasant. Figure it out for yourselves. Seek expert help, do the cha-cha, wear gloves. You’ll try to run out the side. You have a few problems. Build it, construct it! We’re all statistics, there is no voodoo trickle down. I mean no disrespect, but I do not believe the “miracle drink” pitch, one iota. The steamroller does what it does to our plans, and our dreams. It’s like the sound of urine, splashing into the toilet bowl. Welcome to the good stuff (this is a lie). Cut out the desserts. Three wet days in the… She wore sweaters in the summer (see, nipples). Silly, will not get you very far. How can anyone even really explain anything? It’s because of what I did. You got a thing with corn. Blast the deformities out of yourself, navigate this. Pig’s feet are being pickled, as we speak. I am no longer accepting rejection letters, as of this time. My thoughts are not my own, at all. Go ahead, curl up in the back of the boat. It’s as if we had lives. Cry, until you can’t. Get it off my face, I’m warning you. Cherish simplicity. Cut, someone yelled. You’re isolated, noisy, absolute, dainty, irresponsibile… Someone pushed over an old man in a walker. It’s time for life, not this thing. The only way to be taught, is to teach yourself. I couldn’t cross the road. Resentment and rage, can so easily get out of control. The name of the place, is forgotten. I urinated on the frog statue in the backyard. I’m covered in my own blood. Go a little overboard from time to time. Yelling, about the incomprehensibility. Soon enough, you will find yourself without any friends. The yellow curtains keep attacking me. My power to transform and change, is gone. He had it all straight, early. Think it up, get it down. More dull sorrow. Plans are not poured into concrete, to say the least. I got beat to the fame bag. Maybe I did kick that basket over. There are not going to be any aliens to take your stupid asses, anywhere. None of our studies, can be applied here. He tried to make love to his sister’s stuffed animals (they were uncooperative). It isn’t the end, but it is near the end. Screaming and yelling, won’t accomplish anything. Turn the heat off. The laughter has waned…

007

I don’t think that I really remember things, quite the way they happened. They left me off the list, which is just as well. Nobody knows what happened to any of those fucking people. I did my time in the institution, jail, mobile home, picnic grounds, vacant fields (fuck every goddamn one of you). My lawyer was a cocksucker, and he did what I did, more than once. All they used to do is quote song lyrics, as if they were Byron, or Shelley. Ah, it’s all fart jokes and aspirin, now… anyway. I got drunk on vineger, had a long conversation with your mother, lost my mind, then, found it again. How did Adam sneak into that one picture? The damn armadillo got into the backpack, ate all the egg salad. Skank, but, well, we like it that way. I used to sell porno to kids, but that was before… before the rest of it. They won’t read it, write about them. It was all patty-cakes and clown makeup, the freak population has been thinned out, with attrition and all. Imagine her, in those pants! All the quotes were made up. I was there, stood around, fell down the steps, and so on. Remember pretending to limp (oh, yes you do)? We were all duped, everything sucked! See, though, the bad, causes you to miss the good. We used to sell pumpkins out of the back of a truck. Do you know what it’s like to be very tired? Smell the injustice. We compiled a bunch of garbage. The main problem with being a writer, is the fact that it forces you to live in poverty for decades. He was hurting himself, nobody knows why. You promised me that you wouldn’t call me donuthead, anymore. I’m not going to live long enough to see this book get published… So, fuck you all, again. How’d she ever get to be so ripe, so soon? Living here is such a treat, such a treat. It’s like a game, a sick game (trying to do what I do). I knew, but I don’t know anymore. The depression comes on really quickly, and silently. There was a half a thought, that I had. The most exciting thing I do everyday, is complain. It’s grist for a mill, that’s gone out of business. I ran towards the terrifying shrieks. Where do they all come from? Danger is a real thing, nowadays. It’s a jambling, jangling, sort of. This is the worst part, now. My last words were, I am not. I refused to succeed, my hate wouldn’t wane, the flip flopping ended, the foolish drunkenness. In a way, it’s kind of funny. I see it leaving me, now. I dozed in the biosphere project; you’ll be lucky to snag a couple. Nothing is sacred, everyone is scarred, and scared. This could be cheating. I am your whore, you pay me by the hour. My skull is inside of me, I feel it there. Choose a different soft drink, get into the other mind. They keep raising the damn prices. What ends up happening, will seem very, very strange, and weird, to you. Life is like a board game, formerly in vogue, which is no longer played. Flushing the toilet makes such a loud, terrible noise. We’d do anything to… Into the toilet, out of paper, pleasure is not going to be allowed. Take the pain and suffering. It all starts with nihilism. After all this, nothing. Our dharma is like, stealing corn from the stalks, along the side of the road. There is no now, catch it if you can. An inappropriate hat, was worn. Sleep removes something. We’re associate members of that group. Someone said something, out of the blue. No rubbers, no sex. Papers were shuffled, boxes were folded, things took place. Nobody is ever going to read this, which gives me enough freedom to strangle myself with, no more. Old record albums, of bands, no longer popular, lined the walls. There was no eighth grade theatrical production, this year. They all too often, say no. The pregnancy rumor, was unsubstantiated. Invited into the back room (never seen). They dubbed in the part about low prices. I smell like the guy who made me puke! It was predictable, all that happened, and it will continue to be so. We’re waiting for the feed from Portugal. We spend our time attempting to communicate with machines. Low rent districts, some kind of surf/church music, my eye keeps falling on the lamp. The discoteche seemed so enchanting, to the damned. Things can get pretty bad, may you never know this. The food contains poison, do we need a padded envelope? Don’t give in. Everything is blank, this is what anathema is. Don’t let me die before the delivery truck gets here. This once meant something. The wishing well on North Avenue, is gone. It’s gotten so bad, so damn fast (I’m so cross with you). The economy thrives and grows, on all our failures. Go off, write poems, bomb the mall (we’re all faking it). Just remember this, “strange warmings.” Don’t say it, do it. As blank as gas, as dull as an eraser. The modus operendi, would appear to be, nil. Food is so tasteless, yet, we eat. You will see that that, will be that. I can’t even pretend to have a purpose, or a whatever, anymore! Look above the place where the tools used to be stored. The cheese grater took half of my hand off. I’m not going to make it. The entire city, was a ghetto. Scatter it into yourself, forget that I told you this. The project will never be completed. To me, it sounded like groceries were being carried in. This is what I alluded to, back in 1987 (it’s mostly “about,” a gastrointestinal infection, that I had). The end, is a meaningless, hurrah. The false teeth have been removed, and placed in a solution. The dandelion fuzzies, were conscious. The garden furniture was of a very high quality. My eyes feel like used teabags. Too many cream cheese choices! Cooties in the curtains, it’s all we’ve got left. Back to the student center. She got high on candy. Wait for it to melt. I used to want to break my pencil. Don’t get too involved in the “horror of your own being.”
A lot more shit went out of business, from the last time I was there. The existing couch, needs to be puffed. I don’t know if I’ve faced it, or not. Why can’t I act the part of Ben Franklin at the annual jamboree, and clambake? It took me years to figure out what the painting was all about (and meant). Well, most of us were in the midst of a fit. Yeah, I’d love psychoanalysis, but not on live t.v., and not if I have to pay for it. Something horrible must have happened. They know your weak spot before you do. The diaphragm went flying out the window, after the nursery rhyme/rhythm thing, that none of us could stand. You will continue to rub it all over me. You should be wide awake, at this hour. Why do they all insist on shitting all over me? I don’t want to hear my own digestive system sounds, anymore. No more acute vision, it’s gone. Sail into the middle of it, just like a bitch. Actually, this is what happens, long after you’ve lost your mind. It’s very glib (there is always more work to do). I’m starting to doubt all of my actions, not just some. The books keep falling off the shelves. Pass me that chamois. There is a way, there is a way, that these things are done. They know, and they keep it from you. Intensity, the true depths… All of the sudden, she decided to stop punctuating (just like last time). They all tell too many lies. No innocence, ever (these days). Don’t add insult to injury, by doing what I have done. If you fart, you fart (don’t hide it). Fear is the vice (a tool). We’re practically virgins. Only stupid people feel, “sexy.” We go back a long way (too long). Hey, that is in the past. All of our days are numbered, like some New Year’s countdown, but not. By Tuesday, all I could think about were the next weekend’s parties. It’s like staring at the inner workings of a single human cell. Kansas had a hand in this (the girl, not the state). Try to drown out the sounds coming from the next room. What came over me, those “tittie twisting” incidents? There is no excuse for this, yet. We were told to settle down, or keep it quiet, or something. I’m one of the typical, boring assholes (that I used to hate). No photos were taken. Twenty nine, twenty nine (immortalize it). What do you suppose it really would have been like, if I’d have stopped the car? Moan, as if on a back ward gurney. I’m keeping up the pretense, apparently. Oh, what is happening inside of our heads? Isn’t she ah absolute scream, a hoot? This is my senior thesis, asshole (my dissertation). Oh, I’d say that I spent quite a bit of time, drinking? And this, is like being drunk in an unknown backyard, in a strange city, no idea how you got there, the whole nine yards… All of the recently departed, seem to want to have words with me. Mention you’ve made your first million in the wrong company, and you’re liable to get stabbed. I’ve never been on a date. Save me from the wind. It will take next to, forever. Compel someone to do something, and they’ll be forever in your debt. There wouldn’t seem to be any kind of solution, possible. All our dreams get thrown away. Oh, we’ve been told. Tell me if I’m doing something wrong. The check didn’t come. I lost what I couldn’t afford to lose, beyond my mind. It would be so easy, if we could only do it. Show off your “stuff.” We’re jones’n! Must escape this trailer park. Hard, greasy sex, was what everyone was looking for. This is now, my own fault. Clobber, with clapboards. I’m in the wheelbarrow. The pulsating creatures, can only wait. The project was unmanageable, and made my life, so. At the beginning, distractions were killing the book, now, the book is the distraction, and the book is killing me. The order in the complexity, is chaos. The owls are communicating with me. I will not stop writing, until I’m rich (it may be awhile). Gym fears, something about throwing a softball. We listened to the whole album, the way it was initially conceived. It will never be optioned. It was like the live fish in the toilet bowl, after the straining and grunting. I didn’t think I’d miss the stuff I threw away, either. See the cigarettes, reflected in the icicles. You have to get it fixed. Cop choke holds? They are there (how can this part, “save the book?”). I think it was something about reeling in extremis, and happy, unhappy! Shitting in my pants (ooh, la, la, feels like gold). Everything will be fine, once I stop eating food. Make it work, anyway. I just do, too many regrettable things. You must use the cover, that I designed. So many people, so dead right (that shouldn’t be). There is no/are no, solutions, at all. It isn’t even all that clever. I won’t sit and stare at any rock star, ever. I loved, past tense. Too much, too much, at this juncture (so arcane). I got all tied up in the minutae. Daftcunt! Have a sunny, sunny, turkey. Those were some things that I neglected to bring to her attention. Mutilate the headset. It is not really a possible thing, to write a book (hence, I guess, I’ve done the impossible). My life is missing a lot of things, like purpose. Follow the voices, all the way to the end.

006

Feast or famine, my ass. The wet spot on your pants has dried. How can anyone, even tolerate it? Remember being tripped down the stairs. It ain’t cute, keep it out of your ass. It never ends, for the doomed. C’mon, man (common man). I’ll drive you, but I’m not going in there. Thoughts flick by, too fast to write down. I’m faking the whole thing. There are so many words. I found myself in a hillbilly front yard, you know the type. No, unless you want me to be. I will never be able to end this (I can’t). I’ve exhausted all of my options, it’s just like the tilt-a-whirl. Oh, you’ll look. Confront your issues, before it’s too late. It’s the same melancholy sadness, day in, day out. Boast! This is all so dated. I can’t tell you what I felt. Live people, going crazy, in wire mesh cages. We’re unfettered, but more trapped. Start the other sheets, with the add-on’s. They are professional manipulators, and passive aggressive. They use many, many chemicals. It’s all wrapped in plastic. This is about half. It goes on (what follows us). It will be the way that I tell you it will be. It’s fuck city, revised and revisited. There is very rarely a chance to say goodbye to them, before they go. Wait for the miracle of luck. We know what it takes (don’t do it). So many ways to rework it, so little time. Decent, he lisped, or was it descent? Well, we’ll see how that turns out. No matter what, I can’t get comfortable. The cruelty, keeps on coming. I can’t do this, I can’t concentrate. My face feels tighter (a lie). Too many eggs nearby. If you don’t “snap,” nothing will ever happen to you. I’m sick of the holes in my pockets, and the smell of gasoline on my hands. It takes too long (I can’t say/write this enough). Try to understand Birdie’s lament. As far as personal relationships, fuck that. We’re not where we want to be, we want to learn and be, more, do more. When in doubt, I write, I am always in doubt. It’s all poison. Down by Mercy’s pleasure zone, I had an idea. There is no joy in it, anymore. See through the triple action. This is the twilight of my discontented years, or else some real shit is gonna’ go down, somewhere. Life is a lint trap. I got fat, again. It was a must have (aren’t they all?). Go to the vacant parts of the city. Ignore your problems, they’ll go away on their own. Just give up! What was that shit about touch and go? This is a marketing disaster, waiting to happen. It spilled down into my shoe. Ain’t it lastly (ain’t it juicy)? Beauty, long sublimated. I hate my hair, can’t remember, my digestive system seems to work too well. What happened to your folds? There is no chance, at all. Talk about something new. She wore see through plastic pants, pink panties underneath. We never will be ticklish. Penetrate, screw, fuck… sex… Well, she seemed to share a lot of information. I slick my hair with kerosene. The lights were fluorescent, the chaos experiment didn’t work. There is no forgiveness. Everything is so goddamn cumbersome. Leave it in the oven. The fraternity boys seemed to want to fight all the time, in retrospect, they were very well adjusted. What I don’t yet know, is that chopping things out, is the only thing that’s going to make this book readable, not continuing to add shit in. The claim was made, that I was a dadaistic nihilist. Just eleven more pages, and I can live again! The girls lined up around the block, for the opportunity to be an extra in the vampire movie. It’s up to me, to fix what’s broken, fill up the holes… Let’s rock (at once)! The sky is daring me, to disappear into it. You’ve got to do it, alone (nobody told you it would be any different). Nothing is free, for instance, this, cost you $25.50. I don’t have the strength to check on what is here, and what isn’t, not anymore. It’s too much work, but we’ve all got to do it, anyhow. Don’t reason with your penis. So many shattered dreams. Picking my nose is something else, that I just need to do, sometimes. Do you remember where we used to go? I’ve started acting like the retarded people, that I used to take care of. Stop, flip through it, and start reading and editing it. I’ll put the thing about the fat man and little girl, in the final version. Life really needs a little change, a small push in any direction. Thanks, Mom (thanks, everybody). We’re getting the p.r. gears in motion. Supposedly, it was only episodic. Don’t take sides, unless it’s both. I said something about the building. There is no ethics in the bus station. A huge, fat old man, showed his balls to a beautiful young girl. The old teachers don’t get the new lingo. Work on your acting range. Japan has it all measured, down to the millimeter/lower. Charcoal, all for charcoal! Scientific things were mixed in (brilliant). They pack such a punch (these flavors). Only red jelly beans, remain in the dish. We need blank pages. The self purification rituals, aren’t working. Fade into the drip-dry, hen house. We looked too closely, and saw that the lips were sewn shut. And if, after all, we fail, meet at the “secret spot.” I wrote a long book about sleep. The rich wipe their asses, with the poor. She said that her tattoo’s made her too conscious of herself. The dryness, the fundamental dryness. The lack of any get up and go, causes me to lie here, and mope. Where do they all come from? The wind kicked out the jams, time has passed by. We knew exactly what we were getting ourselves into. Vomit into the Rouge, digest the undigestible, shit in a hot dog casing. Say it, on the air! So much ambiguity, that I called it vulgar. Take big business, down. We know what doesn’t exist. Perfect bind it (glue). You spun the table around. The sit on the radiator weather, is upon us. Have some experiences, love that honey, lurch into the fetish/excitement. It’s permanently bent, it will get worse. Criticize the naive. Let me tell you, how it will be. There will be another Hitler. It showed the deer, getting shot. The curious soldiers didn’t last too long. Leave the kitchen, intact. It sounded like the garden shears. Was it a strap-on? I looked at those pigeons, long and hard. Blurt out something, to that man. Nothing that we did there, applies here. Must have got a hold of some bad beans. It just erased. Hiccup like crazy, like this. It’s a remarkable imitation of a tuning fork. We used to go down there, quite often. Nobody really does anything. While they keep winning, I can’t even wash myself. Make use of what’s left over. The slit is now open, you’d better jump in now, or else. If it happens, this goes here, that (the newest), goes onto the very end. What is the answer? It’ll all go down (it already is). Try to avoid avoidance. We live without purpose (please use the toilet paper). Unfetter us from nothingness (unfasten). Sniff the panties, laugh out loud. Chock full of new ideas, my ass got wiped.

It will take up all your energy, and free time, for no known rewards, whatsoever. Now, it’s the opposite way. I’m officially poor. It’s because we’re all idiots. My penis is limp, it’s over. Let’s avoid one another (you seem so distant, so aloof). It was like interconnecting what’s? Hop up onto the rock pile with them. Sign and initial, on the line. Flustered isn’t the word for what I was, that one time they tore my alibi apart. The spiel has been spun, the flickers have sparked off the sides. Try ether, your heavy metal dreams are over. The proofs for/of my existence, are flimsy (then, I threw the papers around). Just fill in the blanks, nothing else matters. Spend time in the basement, if you can. Pass the bong, too many repeats, I need that tool, new fears, old suits. There are no “people with the answers.” We are sinking under. I’m right on the verge now, there are going to be mistakes. Flip the car into the oncoming lane (keep your fantasies, fantasies). Paddle into the middle of the lake, and just float there. There is no immediacy, no millions forthcoming. How slow my mouth is, as I sank the wheelbarrow into the thawed out dirt. Stay involved in your little crafts group, really, that’s great. My fingertips are discolored, and bruised. Pink wrapping paper, was scattered all over the floor. All religions are but variations on a single, central theme. To perfect my “set-up’s,” I would close the door. There was way too much sentimental nonsense bandied about, regarding the Yule log. This will be redone, reformed (this will never be done). Much, much more… (what?). Flex pathetic, wax philosophic, wane, like a ghostwriter for famous people, in 1919. Go down the flower lined, solipsistic, junkie pathway. Though it may bore and damage you, keep breathing. The long drives don’t give me any camera angle ideas, anymore. Basically, I just decided to be it, do it, but I forgot what that was. Rub it into the chiffon (saffron?). Open the can (that is a real sound). Pain is what will shatter your mask, off. David was an awful lot like Ivan. Ride your chosen racehorse (dust), enough with the buttercup’s, already. Stop talking about it, believe in nothing. At one point, there were six broken down cars and trucks, in the front yard. Adjust the treble knob, try possession, try to avoid your own selves, be cold. I look over there, at the plank of wood, and wonder. Tear your crotch, will it into existence, end up trying on all of her clothes. They thought they were such hot shit, where are they now? Get hysterical, pounce, combine them, put them together, it’s like eternal recurrence, but, not. A squash was placed out on the porch. This is getting so crooked, that it’s sideways. They hid the long, steel pipes, I used formaldehyde, where’s the bat/the bait? The breakdown was caused by the stress of doing nothing. Oh, Lordy! Love as self delusion, volume one. I can’t afford a flyswatter. So many basements, to stumble around in. She thought she knew everything. There seem to be less. I must have pissed old William, off. A lot of times, trying to remember, will make you forget. Well, we’re heading to Texas Township. This was going to be part of the second book. It’s fucked up because people with money, can do anything they want. There were good people, I just never met them. How did it used to be, Ed? Everything seems to be stuck in the Kennedy years. My hands have been washed. It was another waitress, one night stand. Horses shit, so easily, not so, with man. Goo goo eyes can become torried affairs. Mars (?) needs pussy! I want to go to the rest home, and lounge around. The frogs are made of wire, the combatants are sponges. Alternate title: Fallen Oaks. I needed to go to the store, like a prisoner needs a haircut. We shot the shit. Blue hair, now or never. She waved her wand, and said everything would be better. The studio must become mist. Take the thing on, more elliptically. I mean, we actually used to dance. What are you(?), is what I keep asking myself. The dog pooped in my hat. It’s so simple, that we don’t try. Narrow it down, if you please. You can’t lose what doesn’t exist. Deranged dabbles, into nonsense. Slip it into her secret. Everything that is here now, was here in 1979. We’re all over the barrel. Lisp it, loud. Be annoyed, to no end. The best lines of a poem, are hard to figure out, or understand. We pretended to be the opposite sex. Create some more cut-out’s. It’s as if twelve year olds, were in charge.

Trifling, petty thoughts, before and after. The twins in the pornographic comic, just blew my mind. We took the dumb waiter up and down. A festival of more’s. Today, I am faster than yesterday. Gin, or vodka? The girls down the street, beat any starlet, hands down. It’s all out and total war. Our sentiments, parlayed. It was like sitting in a torture chamber, the terror was in the air. We need consistency with the word Goddamn/goddamn. She turned into another one (common). Take her pulse, shop for antiques. You are one of those/them/the others. Funny, huh, you think this is funny? I want to explain what contingencies of reinforcement and punishment, can do to you. It’s the circle of sorrow (that surrounds you). They didn’t believe (rightly) that I took the wrong jacket, by “mistake.” I don’t want to see what used to be there (lie). Broken toys, and mercury falling. There are too many rich people for any change to occur in this country. Stop purchasing (get pissed). At least I know what I have to do, now. It’s just a lot of work. Take a canteen with you. Tie up your horses. What am I doing this for? The stick got pushed in, automatically. If only my life had gone better…

005

They don’t even know what the name of it is. Soon, I’ll be begging alongside the road. Enter a (invent) new world. Admit too much, in the wrong context. It seems very temporary. Let out a bellow, for your dead relatives. I took off the protective plastic lining. Go to the church and tell them what you’ve done. He’s on rarefied air, see? I couldn’t stop staring at her huge feet. Freedom is quite stressful. I will melt. The miracle is that you woke up this morning. We’re trying to know (impossible). Be ready. No more good feelings. Shudder at the thought (any of them). Open up your texts. I patiently await my end. A different part of the brain is being used. Why are you always hanging out with your girlfriend? Why do we fear nonexistent entities? Let’s not play with fire. I am you, and you are me, we are one, together. He started writing, moaning, screaming. What I saw in her eyes was total. Pull the hair out of your nose. Shall we go to the show? They were real images, of fake objects/products. Like a long prison sentence… If we’re not, we’d better be. Pound it down, and out, flat. As for this thing, it is only a notion in my “mind.” Flick the pen cap, to outer Europa. Go get into a little bit of trouble. It will come all over you. No more well being. We usually just, “see how it goes.” Why am I always, urinating? It’s as if it were magic, confusing, very strange. Fresh enough, for ‘ya? Massive reforms, are required. Cindy stole my cup. Everything is happening at once. It will happen, be ready. My thoughts don’t equate to words. It’s just one fuck up after the other, with him. I want more than anything, to be the way that I used to be. Maybe, thoughts come from there. Enjoy being offensive. My pelvis was fractured by our vigorous lovemaking. Only 300 pages were saved. Every time I pull the string, maniacal laughter. Put back in, what you took out, right away. Flush the shit down the toilet. Read the unabridged version. You don’t know what I have. Something trickled out of my head. It was a disembodied fist, that hit me. She isn’t wearing any clothes, she is undressed. I heard something. Don’t do me like that. I’m not very funny. Why did we attempt to monkey bar our way across the ceiling? The food was terrible, we were lost. I thought it was all fixed up. The eggs are spoiled. Try a new life. It’s always the same. Nobody cares, except you. Plastic covered all of the furniture. Somebody went, yee-haw. Ring your bell, asshole. It was a threatening gesture. Hopefully, the end result will be different. Give him a good squeeze. She doesn’t know what to do with her tenderness? Make a play for the good looking one. Get as high as a kite, to hell with it all. The party favors have been put away. One day, you want to, the next, you don’t. Stop fucking (all of you). Plot two, leads to plot three. It has nothing to do with anyone’s life (guess?). I have a great need for X. I can’t stand my life. I’m a priest with a mistress. Unsteady, and beginning to sway, topple, and fall. There is a sheer, a luster, to the tabletop, a polished surface. Remote maladies enthuse us, see? Shame must have been my true objective. Lazy people never win, ease social tensions. Talent is nothing to be concerned about (it will be there). Too late? Never! I live in a cheap hotel/motel, I wear used clothing, I drink. Crawl in off the street, and beg for help. Call it a half education, what we received. On my walks, everything makes perfect sense. I got caught, lo and behold. Is this the third? Let me be the new and improved Jesus. Remember what Max said in 1848. Perhaps we’re all driven by impulses we can’t control. Omit the obscenity. You know it must stop. My thumbnail sketches were too synthetic. As for cynical hedonism, I know you. An outlet sale (I’ve sinned). There is no other way. Wide awake, all the time. She was quite naked. No cures, help, hopes, security, safety, etc. Nothing in this book, is new. Don’t you want to see things? Indecision can become habitual, constant, appealing. Live as if today were your last, you should fare alright (tomorrow, too). Filth, is clear. Totally prepared, or else. I’m too goddamn relaxed and content. To miss the dead, yet, go on. Explore those new camera positions/angles, etc. He gets famous, has cowboy worries and fears. Beware the next door neighbors. Contraptions, mentally nauseating. Everything’s been disturbed. Work with the sunshine, cup and orange juice, or whatever. The bottle seemed to move, somehow. Ah, our demands for job security. The filmstrip broke in the projector (we waited, patiently). I have dreams of lost books. Elude the rich, copy it down. I wish I smelled like a pet shop. Trifles, magazines, movie stars (we’re all distracted). Mental defectives, soy beans! Maybe, someday, I’m told I can earn up to, ten dollars an hour. It’s the 60’s! Our drama school days are over, thank goodness. I keep asking myself what’s wrong with myself. Holding hands and singing hymns is not for everyone. Is it gossip that we heard? We’re worried about what’s inside of our heads. It’s getting kind of late, as usual. Goofy, in all the wrong ways. Be sick of something. Be authentic, or else. He knew all of the math problems. I look like how you feel. It’s all, only part of the problem. They say there’s a money back guarantee, but not too many people take them up on it. My face is swollen (this is not possible). More bad news, I’ve come to another conclusion. The magic sparkles in our eyes, fade. We need a decent pair of pants… There isn’t any money, at all. Are we even beings, at all? Another view of July 1977, maybe appropriate. We’re involved in things we shouldn’t be (mentally). There is no chance that this could ever earn me money. Leave the college town, people. Try more hate (do more cleaning).

You are always eating porridge. It was a gas (past tense). It’s all so insane, use it, use it all. There is no phone sex, super sixth sense. Why do we think about sex, so often? With a Rhinelander shirt, and a cheese castle hat, I set out into the night. Put the jars up where they belong. The nun told me, that the show was on. This is “the suffering,” the prayer books, are closed. Open the window, my corruption is near completion. Flee into some epidemic, fortune telling syndrome. Chew it, like a pen, return from the navy yards. When they talked in the library, I didn’t even feel half. My lungs are imploding, the logos have changed, listen, I’ve been through this before. Most of us will never know love. So, this is how it works (it doesn’t). We falter, we wait in vain. She deserves to be adored, until the end of time. My dirty underwear, is over there, my dullness is killing me. It was an old pie pan, go ahead, rush to judgment. The weapon of choice was tin foil, while disguised in paper bags. I am sixty years old, and in the first stages of menopause. We clean, the next day, everything is dirty again. Nothing that we did there, applies here, in any way. You will be destroyed, they won’t try to find out why. There is a confusion that spreads, and shouldn’t. I can smell the Halloween. Real life, is over there? Be gay then, fine. Our big clients blew us off, it is going to be a lean year. My rage is so pathetic, weak, soft (it’s all bullshit, like most of my acts). The humor was drained out of this. The opposite effect of the desired one, is what keeps being achieved. The signs were all “just so.” They all betray, that’s what they do. Don’t do me that way, I’m warning you. We’re desperate, it’s a fact, that can’t be hidden. A terrifying horn, blew (the good times, end). No more revelations, St. Paul acts, silliness, horniness. People walked up and down the corridors. They mention low interest rates, I remember things, sometimes. Enter the subjective sphere of influence. The book (the what?). Come out of that orifice, pregnancy causer. It isn’t valor, that keeps us around, when we’re no longer needed. They will try to do things to you, don’t let them. Be alone (we all are), be done with ethics (same reason). Yes, two Tom’s. I may or may not have visited that place in a drunken stupor. Go (get into you) microscopic, be more wasted. We thought, and thought wrong. Happiness is a stones throw from the other. I want you to fuck as hard as you can. The ring of truth must come from some different kind of bell. There are no uninterrupted hours. It is probably your fault, that all this has happened. In a way, I remember everything (um). She fled… My pants were terribly stained, my mind, so diseased. I’ve always wanted to dance through the fields, in a nude state. The chaos and confusion, are results of something else. True speech, distorted. Spent pieces of graduate students, washed up in the shore. Do tell, who the fuck are we? Go to the outlet, and buy, buy, buy. The dinner was oblique, myself is sickening to me. What has happened before, is likely to happen, again. Be whatever you are (but, more fully). The shadow of the hand is not what we used to think it was. Talk some shit, even though it’s all for naught. Misery is more common than joy. Our “demands,” were publicly ridiculed. I need some more wood. What happened to the girl who used to work nights? It won’t work, nothing will work, now. The unknown, unbeknownst to me, was unknowable. It’s grainier out there than if we looked through the lens of some broken, out of focus camera. There is quite a bit there, but no time for it. Act like you’re in church. Maybe if I sang this, in soprano. I need a great deal of help. Befuddle the brilliant. I saw Santa, somehow, over there. I threw out the course materials. Random, wanton destruction (O.K.). Buy the damn farm (what’s the matter with you?).We never quite make it, to authentic. Tomorrow is my first day in prison. I just can’t stop (writing), it’s like drugs. Spread your legs. We’ll never get our day in the sun and clover. You’d better figure it the fuck out! Back in Detroit, and wasted. The toil and struggle, must cease. Try to be her! Ah, the puzzling predicaments we find ourselves in. We seek legitimacy, at our peril. Symbiosis is bought and sold, on the open market. See, I smiled at her, she didn’t smile at me (just played with my cheese). Look at the pro’s and con’s, of anger, rage, hate, fury, shame, despair. Never again, with thimble tits. This is being written in pencil. We’ve previously admitted to our erotic pasttimes. How are we going to survive all of this? Who the fuck do we really want to be? Destroy your foolish ego, be a pussy, be a retard. It’s a definite set-up. They all ask me what the book is about, I give a different answer every time. My aphasia will not allow me to see certain corners of the canvas. I have sought out to write the book that I have always wanted to read, but could never find. The muscles are moving, but I am not “whole.” Arun got tired of all the extra attention. If you blow it up, it’ll just look worse. She was the one shouting about debris slides. You were in, I was out, was how it generally went. We were all on drugs, drunk, and wasted. In other words, did he choose (good morning) martyrdom? Substance became probability, then, Jeremy. Even I, clutched at the Rosary (there is no solution, a miracle is required). Silence floods the room, like some in, um, well, water. A bunch of porno freaks stormed the storage sheds. She has her paws crossed. Scrambled, as if with an old meat cleaver. There was ample guano (earnest excrement) to consume, county lines were crossed. The vibrations were nonlinear, we bought a pumpkin. My amnesia had an element of boldness, to it. Pull your panties, down…

004

It all comes down to what it comes down to. The decision to leave seminary school, was an easy one. Spin your conundrums, right out of whack, fall down to the floor, and don’t get back up. Where is this sunken amusement park, or what not? Yet another K, in the column by my name. The dead pheasants lying on the ground outside of Story’s Grocery. Contend, repair, mumble, reach, roll over. I am getting sick of following the rules, and obeying the law. The building comes down, the friend moves away. It’s better than making labels. Take apart your clothing, sit back and enjoy the show, uncover the “big deal.” Our minds all go sour. I refuse to throw my shoes at the clock tower. It melted in her ass, dissolved before our eyes, defined the status quo. Out the door, with human reason, go beneath the rest of the other. Avoid as much as you can. Don’t let that be found, fella. The movies all suck. I did try to keep my area clean. Whatever you want to do, do. The dead seem to rule the airwaves, the athletes were the cream. Bleach your senses clean. They all sing, “sustenance,” he bellowed. The idea of what I was going to do, is lost. Answer me, you cocksucker! Into the clapboard shack. Fresh tar! Call it failure, incompetence. Discern between the two wigs. There is no survival. Don’t jinx us before we get to see the fashions change. The project came to an abrupt end. This is why we can’t! I can’t go on like this. The language gets worse, the sex, better. More old trends, revisited. It’ll all be forgotten, soon enough. There was a time, when time meant more, but was used less wisely. My hand smells like pumpkin. It’s our guilt, that does us wrong. Wear the green pants into town. Too much alcohol, no more fun. With my arms outstretched, I fell. The lost will be discovered, eating celery, someplace else. No more “wonderful wand of joy.” My tongue was out, I didn’t say it in English. All we were doing was living our lives, and trying to do so, more abundantly. Where is the thrill, what is the excitement all about? She said yes, just yes. You took pictures of my girlfriend (naked). We’re not gonna’ make it that far. What was it, that happened exactly, driving up to Camp Roota-Rota? We’re all out of control. Superficial learning, will not last. It’ll drive you mad too, soon enough. You and I didn’t do what we were supposed to. Ah, the birds, turning on a dime in their flocks. He was caught with his pants down, and penis, up. The raffle ticket was misplaced. Sputtering lunches, expensive slide projectors, self sabotage (with a hair shirt on). The lion has a sword, man (grab the watermelon). Get rid of your “friends.” You know damn well, what orthodox is. Know the right and proper thing(s) to do. Some say that faith, is nothing more than foolishness. Rain or shine, it happens, it occurs. When you find out that you’re hollow, drink milk at the counter, while listening to that song. We’ve got the “separateness.” Rectum outside of this sphincter (pain). Our tactics don’t work, anymore. What usually ends up happening, is nothing. My secret is no secret. This is why we’re so tired. Demand it! Eventually, there is nakedness. I suck totally, I am a moron. Lick around the toilet. The product slipped out of her hands. It was lots of laughs, but not a lot of good times. They can smell it on you. The devil licked my asshole clean. The apples rot on the table, as we starve. Acting clever on the porch, no more. Clean your teeth, fix your rear end. Contact the fink, the Buddha too, is bullshit. Go wild with the cling peaches. Possibilities (impossible). Baby, it’s all just talk. Stay tangible and nasty, there isn’t a second to lose. Edward Dorn humped me (Sally, slept). We know our own shoelaces. If you want to hurt, hurt. I’ve righted the wrongs, and wronged the rights (somehow). Dong the ding, and bing the rell. A new Dao is in order. Let this not be some “coming out party.” My chin is missing, my hair is gone. Down Michigan Avenue, snorkeling. All will be erased, in one, glorious swipe. The fact is, that I’m seeing things, now. This is the ridiculous cattle run, that I didn’t know was going to happen. Forward thinking marches, off the pier. It’s like an umbilical cord. So many years of cess, and shit, and filth (flushed). I kicked what was in front of me, until I broke my foot. The thumb rubs it out. Resist the donuts. The answer is clearly, no. Unzip your fly, and whip it out (it seems to be determined). At first, it seemed sexy. Snap me out of this. Wait, you’re hurting me. We are not yet artists. Return the serve (peanuts for sale). Be totally (feminine) emaciated (there are some things which can’t be faked). Buy this book, just to piss them off. We felt as if we had to do something. This side of town is surprisingly, graffiti-free. An ostrich attacked me with it’s powerful front legs, and it’s beak. The set is in shambles, such disarray. The periphery wasted me, threw down the rag. There will be more stress. It’s all been crushed down, enough. I don’t believe in any of this, all that strongly (I’m very lucky). You know, in all honesty, what this book reminds me of, is sitting in a train station. There are no more bottles, anywhere. We no longer want to show what’s underneath. Please, stay away from my face/pants. The abstract, hallucinating gases, are careening. ASAP, or never. He could be talking to himself, or his girlfriend (but I don’t see any girlfriend). There were no cars on the road. I observed people, with lives. A pork roll, sat. They’ll x you out of the barbeque, early on. Blow my mind, I dare you. Most people are so damn boring, you don’t even want to know. Yes I’m full of fear, and very afraid. We want more sleep! Mental maelstroms… I sense a disaster, coming on. This wasn’t supposed to happen. We wasted time, in too many after hours things, that went on way too long. The numbers haven’t changed (you have).

Where are the pencils? You’ll know who you are, soon enough. Is it really so good? Body disposal will soon become a big, big problem. Too much prep, not enough cooking. Smoke my essence. They don’t cut, they pinch them off. It sounded like someone banging logs together. Everybody enjoyed hamburgers! The streets seemed to glow. What will they be wearing? I also hate my extreme clumsiness. Pinch my stamens, mutilate me. Everybody hates their goddamn jobs. You’re gonna’ tattle on me? Get into the funshine. Damn, I sent a query instead of a book proposal. It doesn’t take too long. I can’t remember any of the films. The transistor is in there. Strip down the arranged. Who really knows what the fuck to think about such things? I can’t go on, I don’t want to. Nudity seemed to be a part of the celebration. All of us are brainwashed. The book had a beautiful orange cover. My stroke is already happening. Do subtraction! You took my virginity from me. These are my collapses. There were nature centers (plural). I admitted it, but shouldn’t have. It was as if he were drunk. I can’t sit straight. It’s not so bad (necrophilia). Me and my L-dopa (autobiography). I went overboard, I always do. Nobody will ever care, call me “just a passenger.” No, I cannot, in any way, control my goddamn self. There was no interview. The table turned into water. Nothing ever happens. Think about something else, go to the bar. It was me, who shit on the library steps, way back then. Know where the arms end. Then, drugs were brought out (for a price). No contact. It was no accident (nothing is). How did you manage to find my stash? It’s better this way. I just sat out in the car. She sensed that I was in the throes of orgasm. It’s a criss-crossing way of doing things. Be like the Kansas City moaners. Survive me, save me. I feel different, today (changed). Have you ever had sex with a girl (um, stammer)? Hi ya, copper! Note, shorter sentences. Do you really know what it’s like to be dead? They fix us this way (broken). Sometimes, I get so high from intellectual pursuits, that I scratch myself until I bleed. Let it take care of itself. I’m sick of writing small, I’m sick of everything. There is nothing that we can do, about any of it. The sign looked like a damn bus. We’re trained in school, to learn to tolerate boredom. Go ahead, forget my name. The forest was covered with fire extinguisher foam. The princess Di window was obsessive. Our souls are glorious, multi-layered, omniscient, omnipotent (nonexistent). Damn, it’s happening again, it’s like computers automatically add typo’s into the manuscripts. You don’t have to wait long for a good line, but it’s still too long for most people. If you still can, please try. I soiled, and sullied myself. Avoid sportswear. They are all so stoic, in the elevator. Go out of the Universe (now), give reality some structure. What would I decide, if they locked me in a prison cell, and forced me to come up with something? Full on entrapment, ah, what the hell? We used to have something to do. I hope you like it. A weeks worth of cigarettes in an old can. They don’t take down the signs until after the store’s have been closed/shut down/put out of business, for decades. We tried to figure out plurality, once. It makes absolutely no sense. Crack house furniture, all over the front yard, eviction notices on the windows, that weren’t blown out during the fire. The school will exist, but it’ll take awhile to set up. It was as oily as Gino, back in the day. Spirits are low. Yes, hospitalization would be best. My thought mechanism, has broken down. Animals sense death, it goes beyond smell. I drifted nowhere (this is pleasant). Tie your arms, to your legs! Ammonia, is inside me. Document the disappearances of all of them. I have lived your life! We think about vaginas (this is why we all fail). Know the violent aspects of it. Conduct yourselves, accordingly. The crackers were moldy. This’ll be the start. Death is not boring. Shock, at the sock box! Well, displacement made me think twice about what I said. See, it was a crime. Get active (take the highway). I meant to say something. We arranged it all, the machines are inside us. The luggage is back in my room. There are stories all over the place. Enough with the book, Eleanor Roosevelt imitations, plans for the “real city of the future.” All I did was play with my tool. This guy came in and took over. Everyone knows where they’re going. Just like a layer of chalk descended from the sky. They’d better be more than mere, parts of your life. We ate the free food at the taco bar/restaurant. They responded. You had to wear gloves. Pretend not to remember, to amuse yourselves. Please, no more wet farts in clean pants. The shadow guards were wasted, at Spear flex, Inc. The fire exit signs were made of wood. I used to be full of angst, piss, vinegar, bile (black); but, no more. Your literature comes across like a carnival barker’s snake oil sales pitch. Why do you sell the books over the internet at a cut rate/wholesale price? What do you think it all means? How strange, how strange it is. Do I have any solutions to posit? You will make promises that you just can’t keep (kind of like marriage vows). I ache and I’m tired. All these broken phrases, I must make up my mind. Show me otherwise, I’m still listening. I can taste the emptiness in my mouth. They took all the magic out of driving around (gas prices). Some monkey is pulling the strings in this menagerie! Have a ham sandwich! If you do anything in a car, except drive it, they’ll throw you in jail. What’ll we do for an encore (it won’t get that far)? I guess I did sit around feeling sorry for myself, but see, those days are over. Just looking at them is more than enough stimulation. Fun? Fuck that shit!
Part the river, let us cross. People are bored stiff, by the entertainment, these days. I am all out of enthusiasm, I get drunk, alone. Not now, not this way, no, not again, please don’t do this to me. Give me a trench coat, earmuffs, glasses, and bread on the side. God, grant me the integrity, to do what I cannot do. I guess you could say that I’m what you’d call, fucked up in the head. Blake ate the whole case. When I threw myself onto the ground, and thrashed, people thought that I was kidding. Sales, sheep, slaughter, vanity; on our pillows, life seems one way, out there, yet another. Oh, those count, believe me. It’s stuck inside of our heads. There were maggot’s in the candy, discovered too late. Commit sections of your resignation letter, to memory. A whole poem was composed, now, it’s forgotten. The kid beat on the pop machine, mercilessly. The billionaire went crazy with his antics (concerning the revolving doors). Remember Five Forks, Arkansas. The only difference between then and now, is that now, there’s a Bible in the room. Understand the underhanded methods, go from potential, to actual; smash them together. Feel what it’s like, to feel/fail. Corruption leads to temperance, performance anxiety. It’s all original, baby cakes. Provide a sense of is-ness, laugh at the assemblage. There is no now, catch it if you can. There aren’t any candy bars, not any more. We’ve been through the hurting. It looked like a seething cauldron of pus (her vagina). Someone yelled, “fuck.” He used to be gay, now he’s straight. This is it, this is always, it. Removed my eyelids, just in an effort to see better. Keep your kisses on your arm, ask to go to the bathroom. The newscasts are all slanted, one way or the other. Where are these technical illustrations? Is there any way, any solution, anything at all? She said it was “the mark of Cain.” We just have to concentrate, and pretend we don’t see the cigarette machine. Our tears are green, what is the color of the pencil? The éclairs were dropped, deliberately. Ask the guy at the gas station. I can’t totally understand my lack of understanding. The spirit is lost, the venue is gone, there is a game on. The tool crib used to contain everything we needed. We are scared, because we fear. This is this. Act cute, to win the game. Process your headless exaltations (so, it’s all stupid?). Inch by inch, it is all made clear. My half off special girlfriend, dumped me (pants were removed). Just bury me in the backyard, with the others. No more workies, fears, and so on… It’ll all just melt away. The zone, is the only place, that anything, will ever happen. Laminate the sponge, throw the racket. We must forge new molds, at once. I dried off with a moldy towel. The barbeque pits in the park, look like crows. Someone put out their cigarettes in the ketchup. Where is the rookery? What is happening here, is just indecent. Perspire, like a pig (pig’s don’t perspire, you asshole). My head hurts, my glands are swollen. The elbow on the couch, wigged me out. I’ve only been writing this for nine years (twelve). My toy accordion, is missing? Let’s climb off the thing, and then, jump down. Don’t baffle and bewilder us, with pointlessness. I’m “born again.” He said he’d be my woman? It’s all still down in the damn basement. For shits and grins, we invented a new, bizarre, eight track, nightmare reel. I’m a total, and absolute freak. There is more than once kind of ketchup, damn you. Maybe “the never,” has knocked on my door, so drunk, so drunk and delirious. We fucked in a mini, red teepee. The smell of cabbage, permeates the atmosphere. We came up from the cabins, a little too eager. Go ahead, hate. Everything is a latrine, in Gary, Indiana (no offense to the town, I’m talking about everything!). Nothing is lost, because nothing lasts. As our skin becomes yellow, we’ll think of all the things we should’ve done, etc. Too many things, are impossible. That picture was so damn sexy, that I want to cut it out of the magazine. Nobody cares, and I don’t really think that they should. We want life, and can’t find it, we’re drunk and confused, help us. We paint ourselves into inescapable corners, we pave our enemies roads for them, the light is yellow, this is so fucking stupid. They vandalized the entire neighborhood, with their beautiful chalk drawings. I am covered with dirt, clothing is optional. I’ve thrown the ball around the rubber padded room (we’ve already been through all of that). I have a curvature, sperm and egg connect. Stop believing, no more fairy tales, multiply this, give up. Spit it underneath the desk, weave it all into it, somehow (we can’t grasp the whole). The paint is peeling, the rent is being raised. What do you think about nothing? Be just this side of an ice sculpture. Shove it in, all the way. Aren’t we all, weirdo’s? I’m disabled, impotent, imbecilic, the word was there, a minute ago. Yo, hold up, where you stay at? Strike the cymbals, lobbies and landings, stairs, stains! Soybean, 1966?! Make a spectacle of yourself at the trading post, year after year. Some kind of slime, just came out of my mouth. Scratch your swollen appendages, pick your scabs, and sores. This is a real, working mill, don’t touch any of the machinery. This book is unlike any other, ever (this fact will work against me). Do you have any idea of what I’m going through, right now? I just felt it! I happen to love my ceiling. I secretly believe that it’s eleven o’clock. Every single day, the same six pointless things.