Thursday, June 23, 2011


I am half as lovely as I look. Multiply that by my weight, my height and my volume.
The colors I see are not the colors you see.
Sensuality is like a woman in the sense that I am a woman.
Step over next to the Jell-O fountain and experience my world through all my senses.

If you are my only friend then I talk to parked cars and mindfuck passing Episcopalians.
If you are among my many friends I listen to you as if through some elaborate system
of support beams installed in the early thirties as part of the Works Progress Administration.
You can see me through the slats of the roller coaster drop. The one made of drugged flies.

If I give you a hug when we meet your wife then I’m probably up for whatever.
If, however, I walk arm in arm with you down the street, you will die soon and not slowly.
I am a thought shot through with fuel cells, a new type of formica vying for market share,
a recalled fire retardant carpet with matching matches, the ing to your oin, a reflex in the vee.

I was once grounded on the very real world you came from. I am bored
with your world but not with you so long as you remain separated. Facts bore me. Fact:
Countries are made of a special resin that holds its resiliency even in extreme temperatures.
Fact: Religions are made of wood.

I have several pairs of penny loafers. Penny loafers. Penny loafers. Penny loafers.
If you say something enough times it becomes another pair of penny loafers.
Penny loafers. Penny loafers. Penny loafers.
I stand in front of all kinds of backgrounds. I expect you to, too.

I don't experience my life through a flat screen. I experience it through a series
of heated tubes, hardened chalk components and miles of tangled wiring.
There is a small gland in the sac that produces a pre-ejaculate. I collect glass beads.
I go out for the swim team and fail to make the first string every year. Fact.

The stuff I do I do for real. The rest is just stiffened window dressing, pretending
to be real then giving names to all the petrified bugs that have preceded me into
the hall of fame. I am not your watch. I am sitting on a crate. I am red.
I rode my bike from Soviet Russia to the Piggly Wiggly on Highway 69. A lie is a fact.

I am a particular sort of woman, as mentioned above. Sensuality is your tipping point.
I love to begin with a glass of wine. How we will end in a crater with multiple debris
trails is anyone’s guess. We might just as well end up on the sofa, or incorporated
into its architecture. It’s important to furnish yourself with a lot of good lines.

You and me on the sofa whistling. Whistling the songs of David Gurdjieff.
Most evenings I will be found mounting a vintage pre-war Howitzer.
There are no pre-war Howitzers left. The materiel is all post-war now, or mid.
It’s a question of moving toward forever or away from once in a lifetime.

My ears hurt when you speak. I haven’t been in love in an hour.
The Curse of the House of Richmond flows through the veins of my father’s geraniums.
I know I am one of many but all of the colors converge in a pot outside my cell door.
Why is a cell like a fair in May? Why ask so many housebroken questions?

Who gets shot in the flabby part? Who played the night watchman weak
from lack of moisture? There is only the one film in the world, you know,
and you’re almost really good in it. It’s important to furnish yourself
with a lot of good lines, ideally endlessly repeatable.

I am in no particular order.
Laughing, smiling & peaking prematurely.
Being funny.
Organizing & planning being funny.
I am that person you would want.
I am standing next to you.
This is a time of crisis.

What time is it?
Time to leave me alone for a moment,
I’m solving all your problems.
Creating creative solutions.
Getting to a place on time.
Laughing at situations.
Kissing an art form.

That isn’t me in my photos.

On the island we only had so many books. A single book can last a lifetime, so long
as the lifetime is finite. I keep coming back to this problem. If you check out early
but the book remains unfinished, is that enough to have kept the fire going had I known?
I didn’t miss anything the entire twenty five years. Now that I’m back I miss not missing anything. Kissing, love, punctuality, inappropriate humor. Guess it’s Kindle time.
I’m going into withdrawals now. Use the options menu for subtitles.
Nothing much will appear to have happened for a week or so.
Then many, many things. Chatting & the world.