The sound grew near. Booms, loud Bangs and twisted metal falling from the grey sky.
Painless, they sat inside the broken cafe.
"Your bow has fallen from your hair," he said. Her porcelain hand picked up the red bow and took a swig of her cigarette.
"Coffee?"
"Why not? A last cup before..."and she trailed off the tail of the sentence.
Cream?
"Yes, my sweet" sounding charming, as if it were a ball and not war.
"Well, I guess we're all outta luck."
"I believe you're right."
"Are you going hand-in-hand with the Lord now?"
Sipping on her coffee,"Depends where I am going."
"It's horrible, this is it," "There's no right, it's a wicked life," he sighed through his heavy soul.
"It is a crime. But, isn't it a milestone?"
Her beauty was deafening and all consuming.
"You're going to be the brightest star, you know."
"And you'll be right beside me," she said.
"You have no approximation."
"I don't want leave."
"Yes, it's so hard to leave.
He grasped her little pale hand. A single tear bade her goodbye.
She smiled farewell.

Where is my mind?

Way out in the white pearly rocks with a little green monster. And, I ask him; where is my mind?
His furry green paws pet my head. I dive into the icy blue. Wading through the ocean's winter misery. Until, I give up. Waiting...waiting to be released.

Chaucer's dirty pilgrim, described himself to the man
Which one? I asked with emphasis on the ?
You know the real dirty fucker.
Well what are you doing here?
Got lost on the pilgrimage. MapQuest said it would take 44 days by foot and little foot traffic. Must have taken a wrong turn.
-You know, you can get anywhere by putting one feet forward at a time. I never stumble. I put my right foot in, I put my left foot out...It's proven to work. I've been following the teachings of the Hokey Pokey and I must say, it's fail proof.
Ahuh, the pilgrim said, and what do you do?
I pick up crumbs, it's what I do.
How do you like it?
Hmm..well, at least it helps me keep things fuzzy. Clarity can be so much a distortionist of happiness.

Slitting and dozing
zZz I am riding the razor's edge.
Rs, Rs, Rs-blue sphinx on the window pane.
Cold, cold, cold. She said nothing wrong and I got bored.
Sex, sex, sex. Poor girl's appetite
Can't be helped. And why try...
Starring, starring, starring
Pretending to care
As a star dies and millions shine, the earth spins and large things collide
Bang, bang, bang,
Build a paper airplane quick, said I.
up, from the star, a univerese
Hey Whiman!! Gone or no ttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjj

Christmas Blog

Some time yesterday, thousands of years ago a baby was born. We call this baby; Baby Jesus. And, like another Babe in pinstripes that came after him, he was plump and cute as a button. This baby, like most babies, gave its parents; humanity, society, etc., pleasure and grievances. But, we loved the baby regardless of its harm. After all, it's a baby. There's just as much fault in the baby's actions than our own. After a little this and much of that, a grand story was told that was passed down through hymns, books and symbolic processions. To some it remains a story. A nice story worth telling and keeping close to mind. Others are apathetic, there's indifferent as well as fervent believers stripped of allegorical interpretations. '

x x x

A Précis of Occupatio

*(Yeah that's right, it's occupatio, not a typo.)

1. Why am I about to come in your Isis? Several minutes from now I will ejaculate in your retina and surrounding areas. It may sting. But, there are no, I repeat, no long term effects. It must be done. For if eyes are the passageway toward the soul, I want my sperm children to be as close to your soul as possible. It's a connection thing.

2. It's late OK! That's why I just came now. Conan is about to come on and I want to watch the monologue.

3. I'll tell you why I ate all the cookies. I can't help it. I am addicted. It's who I am. I don't want to be this way. But, it's who I am. It's genetics, you know. I bare no control over my urges or actions. It's like one second I'm thinking about eating a cookie and the next I have three cookies in my hand. (Argument is replicable to excuse: who drank all the booze? where's all the toilet paper? who took all the medicine? etc.)

4. Why am I sleeping with your girlfriend? First, would you rather some stranger sleep with your girlfriend. That is insensitive and irresponsible. It's a jungle out there. A jungle of syphilis and herpes, mon ami. They, presumably men of forward thinking, say the fairer sex bores of one man's jing-aling quickly. Having learned this great fact, my nurturing nature remembered my friend is likely to contribute to the statistics. So, I did everything I had to do as hugely and quickly as possible.

Mais où sont les neiges d'antan?

Mais où sont les neiges d'antan?

Far away and removed, yesteryear's snow is a forgotten brook.

Scribbled secret notebooks, and wild typewritten pages, for your own joy
Submissive to everything, open, listening
Try never get drunk outside your own house
Be in love with your life
Something that you feel will find its own form
Be crazy dumbsaint of the mind
Blow as deep as you want to blow
Write what you want bottomless from bottom of the mind
The unspeakable visions of the individual
No time for poetry but exactly what is
Visionary tics shivering in the chest
In tranced fixation dreaming upon object before you
Remove literary, grammatical and syntactical inhibition
Like Proust be an old teahead of time
Telling the true story of the world in interior monolog
The jewel center of interest is the eye within the eye
Write in recollection and amazement for yourself
Work from pithy middle eye out, swimming in language sea
Accept loss forever
Believe in the holy contour of life
Struggle to sketch the flow that already exists intact in mind
Don't think of words when you stop but to see picture better
Keep track of every day the date emblazoned in yr morning
No fear or shame in the dignity of yr experience, language & knowledge
Write for the world to read and see yr exact pictures of it
Bookmovie is the movie in words, the visual American form
In praise of Character in the Bleak inhuman Loneliness
Composing wild, undisciplined, pure, coming in from under, crazier the better
You're a Genius all the time
Writer-Director of Earthly movies Sponsored & Angeled in Heaven

I Dreamed I Met William Burroughs - Franz Wright

I met William Burroughs in a dream.
It was some sort of bohemian farmhouse
and he was enthroned, small and skeletal,
in a truly gigantic armchair.

When I asked him how he was, he replied
Well, you know what they say-for the best results,
alwyas mock and frighten losbetr before broiling.
Franz-I like that name, Franz. Childe Franz

to the dark tower someting ot other...Hey,
got a smoke? And quit worrying so much:
they can't help themselves, they're like abused dogs
and they're going to react to affection and kindness

with unctrollable savagery. Just tell them,
You're out of my mind, pal. You're out
of my mind. Either that or, I'm out of yours.
That'll keep them brain-chained to their trees.

I cry your mercy—pity—love!—ay, love by keats

I cry your mercy—pity—love!—ay, love by keats

I cry your mercy—pity—love!—ay, love!  

Merciful love that tantalises not One-thoughted, never-wandering, guileless love,  

 Unmask'd, and being seen—without a blot! 

O! let me have thee whole,—all—all—be mine!  

 That shape, that fairness, that sweet minor zest Of love, your kiss,—those hands, those eyes divine,  

 That warm, white, lucent, million-pleasured breast,— Yourself—your soul—in pity give me all,  

 Withhold no atom's atom or I die, Or living on, perhaps, your wretched thrall,   

Forget, in the mist of idle misery, Life's purposes,—the palate of my mind 

Losing its gust, and my ambition blind!

"Pale white in private moonlight,

Like round-eyed sores,

Flap your scabby kneecaps apart,

My ugly whores!"

I puked, my little whore, when I saw the green, and read.

Crude all around and stupidly direct.

You tried. Tried so.

That was your first mistake.

And I get bored

SO fast

Love on a Reel

A dammed man of the worst kind-

In the wrong time

(It was meant to be

Maybe, a long time ago in some other place.)

He knew

That he must for sanctity

Casting his reel of love into the dark sea

Calm against the waves in his little vessel

Roughing it-wet and hungry

Nothing he wanted ever was caught

And there, here look at the map, he said to himself

I am suppose...

With my reel, my reel of love

He waited and weathered storms and squalls

Casting it high and low, deep, shallow and all

...He sighed and for the thousandth time

Snapped his wrist and let go

his reel of love.

Faith you're driving me away everyday.

UF Winter of '09:Fin de siècle

The fin de siècle in college has left a whole new set of bewilderments. And for that I am grateful. A whole new set of questions begotten through the auspice of the intelligentsia and the not-so vanguardist. All equally important in development and growth. And, that is where the fin de siècle has left me, fortunately. A new sight made possible with experiences from the whole spectrum. Onward and upward.

As Norman Mailer might had said:

Excelsior!

Milosz Realism

Rejoice! Give thanks! I raised my voice

To Join them in their choral singing, Amid their ruffles, collets, and silk skirts,

One of them already, who vanished long ago.

And our song soared up like smoke from a censer.

Effrontery to My Hesperides

No more sweaters nor looking out into the high, dark night. Sitting stone still overwhelmed by the countless possibilities.

Once, mad-splendor existed. And, dead tutors whispered truths I painted on a wall.

After certainty and solitude of thought...uncertainty and life seems unlivable. Successfully anyways. The paint is still there. I think. Covered by white layers of clean, godly paint. Moma's paint. A good sleepers paint.

Walking toward my red door, I grabbed the cold, steel knob. The truth rung in my temples and out my mouth. True maybe truer than the scripture on the wall.

Streaming No. 24 in F Sharp

She, sinewy, willful and playful. An exotic, striking pet (my pet). The best pet around, danced and grooved. For she couldn't say nothing at all. Women never can say nothing. They know too much. Like a wave through a meadow in a thunder storm. It makes little sense to me. But, it is powerful and unrelenting. My nostrils flair and I must take deep breaths. Slowly; one, two, three. It brings feelings and in the end; is that not what we have? Or, better yet the common calling we gallop to?

Once, maybe a thousand years ago, in the cold shower of realization, I said, shouted even in my head: feel, feel, feel! A thousand years later, here, unobtrusive and calm I am a flickering lightbulb. Coming and going, giving light but not enough to shine on the world. Yet, the muse is not without electricity but a constant switch that comes with a swift air of self destruction. sprinting up the steps and almost reaching the top, I, for it is I, stop. And, I step down three steps at a time. Stepping over the same old ground. Repeat the cycle.

Up and down those steps, there are things. Shiny and dark things. Cold and warm things. Likable and mean things. The understandable and confusing things. And a great Mystery up on top. Without a scent or a sound but so alluring. A thousand years ago the Mystery annoyed all the voices in my head. Keats, old boy, you were right; negative capability is my dear friend. Poet or not, human or humane; the Mystery is to be. Forever open handed to it but knowing it's an uncatchable butterfly.

Sloop Jony jony sloop awkwardly. Feel broken and go home.

I feel so broken. I want to go home.

What's that noise? It's close. It's swift. I am waiting for a knock. Or, a whistle. And I wait.

Everything, Everything Little Thing

She fits in my shoe. And I have a bike, red bike. Light and red bike that I ride to buy shoes.

I have a shoe, a shoe a red shoe. With black laces and a made in china sticker in the inside laces.

It's a red shoe in the peddle of the bike that goes round and round as the wheels spin, spin, spin.

Chase Saphire: The Real World

It's likely you've seen the above Chase Sapphire commercial. I believe it's intended as a credit card commercial.

Here's what would go down 95 percent of the time once the guy finds out his wife spent apparently all the

"reward" money on a dress.

Woman takes step back and flaunts dress.."What do you think?"

:coy smile from man. She mistakes it as approval. Then, his face turns red and he grabs his hair:

"You did what?! You took ALL that money and bought one fucking dress? I am tired! I've been working

every week day for two years. Don't you think I want a fucking vacation? Hey! genius where are you going

to wear that dress to? McDonald's and Chili's? Because that's all we have money for, you dumb whore.

Screw it I am moving in with my mistress. That's my vacation. Bitch."

Huge. Quickly.

He Went to Jared: The Real World

Babe, I have something very, very special to tell you?

What baby?!

I went somewhere this morning...

::Naughtily:: Hmm where would that be?

I went to Jared.

::She starts jumping in her PJs and bordering orgasm:: I need to call all my girl friends and rub it in their fat faces. Quick hand me my phone.

I went to Jared but I left almost 5 minutes later.

::orgasm gone, turned into woman scorned rage:: What?!

Have you seen their prices? I don;t care how shiny the thing is or how many African boys had to die. It's insanely expensive. I couldn't even read some of the numbers.

But, you're supposed to go to Jared. And then go sit somewhere as I show you off as an accessory to my expensive jewelry.

Sorry you see it that way but I would seriously have to stop eating and buying soap to afford anything in that store. Honestly, I don't know how they're in business.

If you want to see my tits or pussy again I would stop eating and buying soap. Or, I'm sure there are other guys whom want to go to Jared for me and be my accessory.

:::Thinking: I do enjoy her tits and pussy. And getting to this point is such a, urr a nuance to put it mildly, is it worth it?:::....

The Gators lost. Obviously they can't concentrate since I'm soon to graduate (finals permitting). The beating was painful. Probably the most pain I will ever feel. In fact, I'm sure it will be the most pain I will ever, forever and ever feel. I don;t show it. And no I;m not particularly macho. It's just really, really cold. Inside the apartment, I;m calling it a flat to be trendy, it's easily 60 something degrees. My blood was not built for these temperatures. It's nice but all my socks are dirty. So, my feet are really cold while the rest of my body is really warm. What an anomaly. I gotta thank my now-loser Gator snuggie, that's right! Without the snuggie, who knows where I'll be? Probably frozen in some cave in the Arctic circle. I ma be sad the day I can;t wear my snuggilicious due to global warming. Perhaps, there will be a shorter type of snuggie that goes from your hips to slightly above the knees. I also gotta thank MTVs Jersey Shore for numbing my brain for an hour. It was nothing short of amazing. Thinking about how I was tucked tightly with my snuggie and watching these beings on television arouses sick, sweet pleasures in my penis. Which brings me to my next point:

I saw a commercial that told me to think about giving others something special of nonvalue this Holiday season. I;m a step ahead of you, commercial. I've conjured several gift ideas that can be deemed priceless.

If you're a lady, ohh yeah ladies...this Xmas or whatever the fuck you celebrate you can have a blowjob. TO make it all the more special I can be ready under your tree Christmas morning. Cock-lock and loaded.

I will be offering good friends a kiss on the forehead followed by some obscure Bible passage whispered into the ear; priceless.

For those masochist out there I'll be farting in your faces so you can get pinkeye.

Family members will have the pleasure of my presence for almost a whole day. I am generous.

Also on the table is taking a nap with me and watch a bad movie. Some people are natural givers, like me, so for those individuals I'l provide my body to be cosseted for some time.

I can also give the gift of a smile and positive energy. And as a bonus I can converse and pay you a compliment. For the Techies, get this!, I'll be giving out a free, yes I said free invitation to what? Oh nothing much; just the best e-mail server provider in the freaking universe, Gmail. G-G-G-G Mail is not only down with the youths, as they say, but it has so much storage and counting and counting it makes the Energizer Bunny look like a fat bitch in high altitudes. And I don't forget the needy. I'll be donating 98 free G Mail invitations to the Toys for Tots Foundation. Surely, this gift will springboard 98 tots into becoming 98 Goldman Sachs executives.

In the end, I hope I get some socks. There's millions maybe billions of sock puppets out there being misused while they could be warming my frost bitten toes. I need a toe snuggie.

Monkey's Heart In Heaven

There's a lagoon of dead leaves. Underneath, a colony of talking peas, exchanging La la la I love you.

What was hard it's simpler and the stream harder to flow now.