maybe not more moon-caverns tonight.
tonight, i'm going to tell it like it is: I fly
kites all day likes i am told to. it is the only
job available to me in my county, but by
Jingo I've got to be the best kiter in the
bromine!
painting in which we live
the pain painstakingly entertaining
the idea of shining less brilliantly, and
then it expands, it enlightens, in brands
its demands upon everyone surrounding:
yes, this is the birth of my conscious. yes,
this is the birthright of my father's father's
father. this is the weight of a million gray
cabooses letting out their steam, perfect
unicorns, urinating in the shadows
exploding prose so that nobody knows
what to fucking think
well, get a drink, puke in the sink, fuck in the pink,
clean chicken off of bones
in public
as at Rendez-Vous, World Famous Ribs in Memphis,
TN, Since 1948.
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