Friday, January 7, 2011


it was a highly revealing kick in the head
a slow burn that from the very beginning showed a lot of promise
it was like the creeping smile of somebody incrementally ashamed of fluoride
the trickle was definitely taking over
and you thought the feat of parallel parking on the event horizon was impressive?

so the headache says dinner is served
to see this brain is like discovering the remains of a carousel, a birthday party mourned meticulously for a week
and if the sky wouldn’t do it, try DIY asphyxiation
let out the air using your own wits
every human sense rewards a clever, resourceful person
flesh moths wouldn’t dismantle mold on your eyeballs, or they would, but if they don’t, go ahead and do it yourself

the saddest moment in my life was seeing my dad work on his boat
it was the longest I’d ever been in a game of Basement Eschaton
a boat can be pressed against traffic signs, the most humiliating situation a boat can ever find itself in
a view from the small hump on the Great Dane’s nose 
that state of the art forgetful relevance

I didn’t write in my suicide note what exactly preceded the strange hiccup before death
I neglected to mention the thing in my head: a deadweight tune
perhaps I was too busy mentioning the sawdust vibrator the radio said Snooki had been retrofitted with, and how I’d been listening to that while writing my note, wondering if she was made of wood after all
it made sense for the vibrator to then be of sawdust
wasted nearly four paragraphs on that

anyway, I don’t know why I said ‘good doggy’ to the noose hanging from the beam on the ceiling
why the hell did I pat it in that way, too?
but there are forces out there that go out of their way to try and forge sense from death
literature possesses certain ears that can only tolerate a feral reading of itself
plugged with desperation berries
little hairs that effect a gasmask cleanse

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