Letter Of Apology
"Letter of Apology"
So after this man drives off with his car with the bumper sticker on it I get to thinking: "Why the fuck do I have a face?"
And I woke up in a streetcar, still wondering about this man's face(or lack thereof). A small Asian woman glances over at me from her seat, the world outside zooming by. She does this several times and, finally, stands up and walks over to me. She's about a head shorter than me but this doesn't discourage her from standing inches away from my body. She digs into her purse, hears a plastic crinkle and takes out a fortune cookie. She smiles a toothless smile, her eyes become invisible and she hands the cookie to me. She then goes back to her seat. Perplexed, I open the cookie and inside it lies a white slip of paper, and on this paper there is text. It reads, "It starts here."
And I wake up in a hut of some sort. "It starts here?" I wonder about this fortune as I'm walking outside this hut. I seem to be on an island, more precisely, a beach. It is completely desolate and I start to wonder where I am. A few minutes pass and the sky turns gray, then dark gray, then a blue-ish dark gray. I walk to the hut, expecting rain. It begins to rain, only not water, but frogs. Well, toads to be precise. Toads are bigger, and these were huge. They land on the sand with dull thuds, many of them exploding to many pieces. Fearing a concussion via toad I head inside the hut. Only, I'm not protected there because the toads have already broken through the hut's straw roof. The last thing I remember was a swampy kind of smell. I suppose a toad made me it's bitch before dying.
And I awake looking at her. The smell of swamp is gone, replaced by nothing. A very bad feeling has gotten ahold of me, like someone standing on my chest. I find myself telling her that how sorry I am and how stupid I was. She looks at me like I killed her cat, so do her friends, surrounding her. I feel helpless and I can't breathe and I'm tired and there's no way to defend myself. I can't breathe, I can't breathe. I think I'm about to be lynched, maybe tarred and feathered. Where did I go? What have I done?
Kid With Loaded Gun
"Kid With Loaded Gun"
How trustworty am I?
How much is the sun worth?
How much candy can the moon hold inside it?
How hot was that shooting star you just saw?
How can you?
Who can you be?
It´s a matter of who you were,
And what you´ve become.
Keeping The Edge
¨Keeping The Edge¨
A kind of celebration of being,
Tickling the back of my neck- mind.
Wondering if it creates art- so, si,
If it´ll win me a nobel.
Win it, win.
Then, our legs will come back to us,
The ramble stops.
Has the creative edge now gone dull?
Has my nobel disappeared?
I Have To Put On My Shoes
"I Have To Put On My Shoes"
And I have to tie the laces.
I have to walk the dog,
And I have to get the milk.
I have to water the plants,
And I have to answer the phone.
I have to go to the store,
And drink my wine.
I have to sit around,
And smile at the sun.
I have to ask some questions,
And notice that there was no sense.
I have to die a little bit at a time,
And I have to drink myself sober.
I have to take pictures of the sky,
And I have to notice it´s not raining anymore.
I have to put on my shoes.
I have to remember and I have to forget.
I can´t be the eternal gray,
I can´t be the lost day,
I can´t be the dirty look,
I can´t be the unfinished book.
I can´t be the whispered words,
I can´t be the dead, flying birds.
Fields of green that can never be cloud my mind,
Fluffy clouds I can never lie on,
Wet grounds I never want to sit on.
I never noticed what was happening,
Until it was done happening.
Until it was all a greatness or a sadness or whatever.
I never saw,
I never breathed.
I never kissed,
I never fucked.
I never lucked out,
I never bought in.
I never smiled,
I never looked on.
I never snorted,
I never looked back.
I never got caught in the rain,
I never got caught under a car.
I never had a look on my face-- Never.
Grubbing Around
¨Grubbing Around¨
The parrot screams the same,
As all the grub worms speak.
The teacher yearns for more,
As all the grub worms speak.
The talk becomes slow-- lame,
As all the grub worms speak.
Grey Mornings
¨Grey Mornings¨
I awoke on a wet lawn in sickness,
With a bird a few feet away from me.
I was somewhere I had been before,
I knew this because I´d seen that bird before.
I´d seen this bird the day my mother died,
I saw it when my father broke those dishes,
I saw it in the cinema at the end of that movie,
I saw it on my grandmother´s tombstone that afternoon.
Evening
"Evening"
Wake.With a phone call... my manager. ¨Im outside, i´ll pay you 20 bucks if you help me deliver a bowflex.¨ ¨It´s 8 in the morning¨¨25?¨
In his Ford. Heading to Weston?
We share marijuana stories. A party tonight. This headache will go away and I can just get wasted and relax with my friends.
Bowflex delivery. The dude only speaks spanish so I have to do the talking. He is an uptight prick who keeps asking us to move this heavy machine from spot to spot. Fuck that guy, I hope he has herpes.
On the way to the store. Time to kill. Breakfast. More marijuana stories.
At the store. Lights on, register open, music on. Americans enter. Headache.
¨I want a 300 dollar bat for my 7-year-old.¨ Fuck that guy, I hope he has gonorreah.
Manager starts to talk about women. He is a very sexist man who hasnt gotten any for a while. His wife calls and they argue about spending habits.
3 o´clock comes. And stays forever. It seems like time slowed down for the hour of three.
I´m hungry but were busy so I don´t go eat. Hunger goes away but not really. Adaptation is a concept comparable only castration.
Customers consume and leave, consume and leave. J goes crazy when he´s hungry so he goes eat. I don´t even want to eat anymore. Although I can, I don´t want to.
Reefer will be smoked tonight and I need to make a pipe. My manager takes me to water sports and shows me how to McGuiver a pipe from a snorkel.
6 o´clock draws near. I need a ride home and J offers to take me, I accept. We play games online to kill time. Work can be fun.
SIX O´CLOCK MEANS I CAN CAST OFF THE OPPRESSIVE SHACKLES THAT THE MAN HAS PUT ON ME AND LIVE FREELY, RUN NAKED IN A FIELD AND CREATE BEAUTIFUL THINGS ON A PAGE.
J takes me home and I make plans to buy reefer instead. Shower. Make calls in a towel out back. Multi-tasking brings back a headache I´d forgotten about. Dealers are dry. I only have 5 joints.
K picks me up, he showers and shaves his balls. We pick up M. The man of the hour. We are off to buy beer. An act that we have to treat with extreme delicacy. It seems ridiculous that kids my age can buy reefer 30 times easier than beer. We pick up beer that was left over from another night and was stashed in bushed in one of our homes.
Palm Food Mart. The high school student´s ace. I buy beer. The Indian dude charges me double for it, like always. Fuck that guy, I hope he has hepatitis.
C´s house. There is tension. K hates C, so does A. But we all relax. Tonight´s for M. It isn´t long before Ka and S show up. A shows with G. H is nowhere in sight and were all happy because of this. Se shows up with his cousin Al. Ch shows up with Mel. D´s mind is surging with possibilities. D is a bad man.
We smoke. 2. 3. 4 joints. I drink beer. I remember I hadn´t eaten. I forget it. D goes into predator mode. S´s cousin. K´s friend. C´s friend. Time is still ticking by as D wastes his life.
Later. Very drunk in a hammock. Later. Sitting in a chair.Later. Playing with a uke.Later. Empty.Later. Empty.Later. Empty.
Morning. Da and M leave with D´s dad. I, C and I remain. C and I are asleep or still fucking or god knows where. I grab a trash bag and get to work.
¨He who parties the hardest will clean the hardest the next morning.¨-Benjamin (The Tank) Franklin.
C gives me a ride home. D grows sad and goes to sleep.
Awake and it´s sunset. What a glorious waste of:1. life2. money3. health4. intelligence5. human relationships6. futures7. glass bottles8. underwear9. condoms10. youth
Coffee at Mable's
So I was having coffe at Mable´s the other afternoon.
I says to Mable, I says, ¨Mable, I read this book, see. It´s called Rules of Attraction and it´s about a buncha kids who don´t know what they´re really doing and they´re just trying to figure out how they´re gonna live their lives. And I get to thinking, Mable, I get to thinking. I think, why this don´t affect us, yknow? I get to thinking why Im so different from these kids, yknow? When it was over, all I could think about was how this entire notion of oneself, what we are, is just this logical structure, a place to momentarily house all the abstractions. It was a time to become conscious, to give form and coherence to the mystery, and I had been a part of that. It was a gift. Life was raging all around me and every moment was magical. I loved all the people, dealing with all the contradictory impulses - that's what I loved the most, connecting with the people. Looking back, that's all that really mattered.¨
Mable wasn´t listening because she was on the phone with Marcy, who´s gotten really fat since she had the kid. The coffee was too sweet; Mable always makes her coffee too sweet.
Come One, Come All
"Come One, Come All"
Step right up to my musical erotica. Sing with my women, my men, cry with the old ladies seated in the balconies.Let my opera pulse and pulse and pulse. Allow me to pull on your strings, make you crack in half in sound.
Electroshock isn´t the right word but it´s the only word that comes to mind.I used to ask myself, ¨Anyone wanna waste some time?¨Now I don´t. Clear-headed and lucid, inspiration hit me hard and hit me fast. You´ll cry.Wear golden studs on your belts, jackets, and jeans. Go against, with, for and all the way.
WE GOT A WINNER!We got a winner, folks. She´ll step right up, a faceless announcer calling her name. She is great for 10 minutes and reflects for 30 years. The announcer does coke, fucks hookers, and wastes time. So much time.
Next time you sleep, think of a tunnel, in which you´ll run on the walls, the ceeling, at hundreds of miles an hour. Or, think of a field, in which you´ll be a cheetah, in which you´ll run so fast, the horizon approaches, and you get to see the end of the world.
The end of the world will be seen at an end of the world party sometime during your junior year in college.Your junior year in college, you´ll start to do heroin, you´ll fly to the hamptons with your yuppie friends, shoot up in the bathrooms of expensive restaurants. You´ll listen to the talking heads.
Have you seen my opera? Have you tasted my sounds? Have you cried them through your pores?Oh, you worthless fuck, you can´t. Too worried about carnal pleasures. You leader, you motivational speaker, you fuck, you motherfuck.I shouldn´t have shown you my opera, it was too good for you. My musical erotica will go to another town, fetch a new victim.
You just weren´t blind enough, motherfucker.
Clear Skies Ahead
¨Clear Skies Ahead¨
The big questions got me tired.
I bet they have my friends tired, too.
I think I´m done with the big questions.
Ah, get the fuck, I don´t wanna know anymore.
Let things happen.
I want to lie on a couch in the afternoons and write in a notebook.
I think it´s the words that did this to me; the words suck it all outta me.
Call Me Captain
¨Call Me Captain¨
So the Whitman will make you wonder,
He´ll make me tap at the key bored,
He´ll make me smile,
He´ll make me cry,
Whitman´ll make you bipolar, he will.
The Whitman man can.
Bush!
¨Bush!¨
Two years more!
Three years more!
Enough, enough...
Brace
"Brace."
Either way, the sun´ll set and rise like the ass he is. Your son will be caught having sex with a girl he doesn´t know somewhere. You´ll probably be maced before you die. You´ll probably be flipped off by a guy with one arm. Your mother will most likely disown you if she hasn´t already. Your father might get cancer. Your aunt Shiela might die and you´ll wonder what she was like. Shiela might leave you so much money you´ll develop a drug problem.
That bitch, she was always up to no good.
You´ll go to another country and feel like an ignorant American, even if you aren´t. You might be offered a seat in Congress. You might have a three-way. You might get herpes and never be able to fuck anyone without telling them before. Your uncle Joe might borrow money from you and run off with it. You might find a pee stain on your couch the morning after a wild party. You might find someone you don´t know in your bed the morning after a wild party. You might think of your son. Your daughter might get knocked up. You might buy a gun for self-protection and shoot a child playing a prank on you one night.
You might be a good person forever.
You might be behind bars the rest of your life. You might get drafted and sent to a country you´ve never been to before by a person you´ve never met. Your sister might come out of the closet to your girlfriend. Your girlfriend might run off with her.
You might find the God you thought never existed.
You might unwillingly take X one night and be raped. You might forget your tampons. You might punch a stranger in the face because you´re having a bad day. You might beat your child because he isn´t good at sports.
You might die looking at the stars on a beach. You might die looking down the the barrel of a gun in an alley somewhere. Either way. Brace
Arbinn Mononsie
"arbinn mononsie"
ÌVW SEEN SUCH BEAUTY
ive seen the sky,ive seen the moon, and its still all beautiful.
kill the parents that make their kids wincry for the cops who lose their gunsmarvel at the people who speak for themselvesat themselfscarbon monodoise
Anti Anti
¨Anti Anti¨
note. find out how people do it. note. tell them how you feel. note. live like an animal. note. need perspective. note. find out what needs to happen.
Ah Shit
"Ah, Shit. I got Animal Crackers In My Soup"
You miserable fuck,
Who would have thought that an old drunk would piss you off so much? You old miserable fuck, I´m glad you died. You shit.
I speak out of jelousy, my words are green. Bukowski, you motherfucker, you left way too high a bar for me to jump.
Animal Crackers In My Soup is everything I might not be able to do you old fuck. I hope you´re done decomposing because I plan on digging you up and using you bones to bang on drums. You motherfucker, you wrote gold, but you wasted so much time. You stupid fuck.
I can beat you, fucker. I just need to find out when. I won´t waste as much time as you did.
Fuck you, Buk, Hank, Chinaski, whatever. Fuck you.
Sincerely, Diego
An Eye On The Ground And One In The Sky
¨An Eye On The Ground And One In The Sky¨
The man with the lazy eye will have the mindless job, An eye on the ground and an eye in the sky, A foot on the ground and one floating-- how could he be? How could he exist, this man?
Lovely Florida
The sun burns your eyes in the morning,
The rain makes you wet in April,
The winter days are short and few,
An inferno otherwise.
Lovely Florida.
