Tuesday, July 11, 2006
A Righteous Nocturne
Can't bear my kids if you got a bald daddy,Don't want my son a wig-wearin' laddy
I fell into her like bird shit. Our big legs swayed and tumbled, as always to the radio. I had situated myself between her hither and thither, bedazzled and unaware. A ghastly odor choked the area, smothering all wildlife. My shirt reeked; I took it off. What the fuck was going on? Shit was going nowhere, I was lost. This was a gnarly shuck and jive. The scene ended there.
It was gloomy. The sun had traced a perfunctory arc through the heavens but lost itself amidst a gangle of nimbus. I aligned myself with Venus meanwhile, my veins pumping with what the fuck.
I am exceptionally disappointed. The world is a slice of swiss, but my eyes see only the holes. Every conversation is awkward, every evening miserable, every orgasm cheap. Other people are intolerable. My old clothes do not fit me. My new ones are ugly. My scrapes do not heal. I exist in the wrong dimension. All words escape me.
These are the thoughts that torture me. Unable to sleep, here I lay, attached to the sofa, drinking myself into oblivion. My thoughts turn violent and I curse the Earth and each of my forefathers.
MYW at 11:56 PM
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