Staying up for 24 hours straight makes you ravenously hungry.
I have two black eyes, raccoon, smudged black greasy semi-circles with no chance of FADING!
I hate poetry. Va’-t’en a tous les diables.
My friend asked me the other day what I would do if he committed suicide. I said I would come to his funeral drunk. I don’t think that was the answer he was expecting. He asked me what I would drink and so I told him. 9 whiskey cokes, 8 bags of lettuce, 7 hairy legs, 6 Mimosas 5 Tom Collins 4 Harvey Wall bangers 3 Eucharist 2 dead-ends 1 Bottle of Mad Dog. Most of those aren’t real drinks.
I think I would have a closed casket funeral. Or maybe an open casket funeral, look at my rigor mortis balloon blue (face). Or maybe no funeral at all. Maybe Cremation. All these ashes sitting on top of the mantel place mean me and my dust and my guts.
Every time I walk down 12th Street, I read the No Parking sign right by Walnut. “I saw a dog collar smashed into the pavement.” I constantly wonder who the un-named author could be, would be, could we be friends, get along, share falafel, flatulence, fighting words, biting words, play the tromBONE together, move to Chile, drink ICE TEA MOSH, spread the common cold together. Probably they wouldn’t like me. I’m pretty boring.
Absentmindedly, I carved a Thoreau quote into a desk in high school, something along the lines of “Simplify your life.” The next day when I went to class, someone else had written next to it, “You are GAY!” This is why high school was the best experience, greatest moment, chart topper, cherry on the shit sundae of my life. From here on out, bull only gets more intense and more down-hill. Gravity’s happy home; the heart. Not mine but yours.
I decided today that I don’t like it down here. Up north lacks improvement too. Fucked from birth/Art School Dropout.
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3 comments:
keeeeeeelly! i love your posts. there's so much energy and imagery.
particularly in this part:
"My friend asked me the other day what I would do if he committed suicide. I said I would come to his funeral drunk. I don’t think that was the answer he was expecting. He asked me what I would drink and so I told him. 9 whiskey cokes, 8 bags of lettuce, 7 hairy legs, 6 Mimosas 5 Tom Collins 4 Harvey Wall bangers 3 Eucharist 2 dead-ends 1 Bottle of Mad Dog. Most of those aren’t real drinks."
i honestly thought YOU wrote that on the No Parking sign....
I wish I wish I wish I had.
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