Ohhh good things

Chairs are stacked in cactus row

The good men are afoot

While the bad stick to the theatre

The white in the photo has stains in it

Bob drove through town last night

Touching the yellow with black

Send letters and mail the rest

The 8 on the desk

Looks best

In cocktail dress

Mothers of lubricant

In suntanned love

All shine like undercarriage

When the hole has opened so wide

That we are all in for it

There are so many beaches tonight

Flower vision of big things

Wit and Wisdom

Do you love Chris yet?

Let all of them in jail for the summer

We all need somewhere cold forever

Contessa, I'm Blue

The Sands of Milan

It's us in the peach light.  Later on our very good friend is going to bring over mussels to cook just right here and pale beers that we'll sip as the last tendrils of peach light stick their hands out before nestling into the ocean.  Like: goodnight bud--see you real soon.  The sand will get cold but we'll warm each other in the blanket from home.  Our very good friend will retell the story we love.  Behind us Milan will wave a different hand that we know and feel challenged by.  Inspiration trolls the air like the peach sands do.  We look into each others eyes and it feels like our hands all over the place.  This is despite nothing but ignoring it.  

Outside isn't visible from here.  The bright rooms where you go unnoticed.  Big and full and teeming with insides.  The dark parts of other places where you stand out for some reason.  You're not bright and yes--your body hurts from the things you use to turn your mind down.  And yes--it's  so retarded.  Stare at a mirror when you smoke.  Pay for tolls with your left hand.  Google the addresses of everyone you actually can't speak to anymore.

I order tortas in "kitchen Spanish."  No--I didn't pay to get in.  My social abacus is very nuanced.  If I had a place like this I'd really do some great things.  My parents literally give me literally no money ever--they don't even pay for my cellphone.  I'm publishing images of myself in the name trap where they make money on it.  It's the weekend and time for me to coordinate my underpants with my ensemble because--you know what mean?   

The sands of Milan don't exist.  Or if they do they're for Euros in the hardware stores.  Or kept unknown in closets as vacation particulates.  And we're not even there to know that.  You--my sweet contessa and who's the whole world.

As In: The Car Drove Through the Quotidian Traffic

There’s this guy carting three, hot, dripping slices of vegetable pizza around the cafeteria-style cafeteria. Parmesan cheese piled on there - I can smell the cheese from here- like fifteen feet away. Dull-eyed, immense.

Yeah, me too.

I leave this section of the place and walk into another section of the place and think:

I’m shaking my way into the body of an old man, shuddering through the aging process.

Not bad.

It’s pretty nice outside and some sad girl comes up to me and asks for a cigarette in a pleading way. I mumble through the transaction as if I’m somehow ashamed, as if she’s giving me something I was embarrassed to ask for.

I realize about five minutes later that, although I have been awake for six hours, the compulsory words between me and the sad girl are my first of the day.

I sit outside for a while longer. I become jealous of people who can hold long conversations on their cell phones in public, specifically their ability to unashamedly assert that there is no one currently present worth talking to.

In an attempt at mitigation I drink a Venti iced coffee with hazelnut syrup but it only compromises my aesthetic.

Ha ha ha.

Another thought on jealousy: envious of the head-turn but not the head-turner.

Re: girls.

corona eclipse

Oh what did I just download? A slide show of Mistress Karin von Kroft. Produced with Window’s Live Movie Maker. I recognize the transitions. From the time I stayed up a few days making videos with the same five pictures. The cube. The starburst. The Venetian blinds. The Looney Toons intro with the circle growing bigger to reveal the next frame starting with the smallest part of the circle zeroing in on the flesh toned dildo she’s donning. Straps are black leather, soft. Her skin Royal Purple because of the light bulb.The omniscient music is reminiscent of a brass band playing for a dictator the music makes you want to obey and follow.
Mistress has wall-to-wall carpeting in her boudoir. A bouquet of fabric flowers. A small stool, mushroom top upholstered Purple Velvet, gold button in the middle. Eight seams meeting there making the universal symbol for anus. She sits on the stool and looks at herself in the mirror adorned with wood painted gold and shaped like vines and she grabs for her lipstick with her left hand and almost puts a tiny vibrator to her mouth.
Whoopsie what has become of springtime? I told the cabdriver “sometimes it snows in April” and he handed me a Violet umbrella. I came home and listened to Hawaiian Steel Guitar Classics on repeat and pretended my carpet was sand, bought a shirt with a pineapple on it. Deep fry my heart, my shoes squeak when I walk. I wrote a book review about a magic carpet. I drove a Fiesta. Now I’m watching the moonlight move on a distant puddle out of a cute window three stories up. Mistress did not miss the Eclipse but I saw the spoiler.

lightning on my dashboard, thunder in my center console.

I tried to get pulled over. I ran stop signs. I breathed slowly to calm my racing heart.  I hid myself so they couldn’t see my soul.  I hid behind the shock of dying while I looked for a good spot. 

the receptionist looked like shrek.  the nurse was played by eddie murphy too.

she told me about a man. carted out with his lungs in his drink.  

they handed him the bill in the ambulance. 

who knew the satay had peanuts in the sauce? ( I did you fuck )

do people still go to swanky bubbles?

I went to work the next day because it made for a better story.

I popped your tire when I risked my life for a laugh.  no one laughed.

I admire the machine because I know how it will kill me.

dont let her take me away.

be here to love me.

voyeur

adorned in a mini-skirt at the night-
club I pour beer down from the balcony
into the gaping mouth of the throbbing
mass below thinking this is scenic and
euphoric look at how young I am the boys
look up at me and flip me off the boys
surround me on the balcony and moan
do you really think that was cool bitch we’re
going to punch you in your fuckin face

At Night

I’m drifting up horizontally through some sort of enclosed space. All of my nerves are stimulated, like a full-body headrush. I’m floating horizontally upward into an enclosed space of a different shape than the one I was just in. I begin to right myself, become vertical in this suspended state. And all I can think is:

“I’m inside the head. This is the head.”

I’m inside the hollow head of a figure much larger than me. I’m floating inside of a larger being. I’m in the control center of a giant ghost.

I wake up looking directly into Jean’s eyes. I’m on top of her. We’re on the floor of her bedroom. She’s screaming:

“Stop! Stop! Hey!”

I’m still feeling this full-body head rush. All of my skin is covered in goosebumps and my bones feel cold. I’m crying pretty hard.

“What? What’s happening?” I ask her.

“You wouldn’t stop screaming. You kept pushing me and screaming.”

I move to turn on the light.

“No,” Jean says and turns away. I move my hand away from the light and she slowly turns back around to face me. Her eyes are so black in the dark. I realize then that she’s scared to look directly at me, that once the light is turned on I’ll appear different in a subtle but terrifyingly noticeable way. I realize then that what I am experiencing is the most acute sense of terror I have ever felt. I feel this way because I have become an object of fear and I have no idea why.

Most human beings, acting as objects of fear, have a pretty good idea of why they’re feared. Many of them have made conscious choices and efforts to be feared. Very few stumble into the role as I have just now at 4:43am on April 1st, 2014. When the light is turned on I will appear different in a subtle but terrifyingly noticeable way.