addictionhave you ever been an addict. and im not talkingabout the hey-i-like-to-do-this-alot type of addict.im talking about theif-i-dont-get-it-right-now-im-going-to-fucking-blow-someones-head-offtype of addict. im an addict. ive never blown anyoneto get it. i dont think i would. but i havent beengiven the opportunity to either. the reason i say 'idont think i would' is because i like to pretend thati still have something thats mine. dignity, pride,standards. but i know i would easily toss those awayjust to get it. i know because i have. so all ireally have is it. for one hour. for two hours. forfifteen minutes or however long it last. however longi can afford it to last. ill be high for fifteenminutes if thats all i can get.im an addict. i dont get high just to get high. iget high just to get my mind off getting high for afew hours. after a fix im good for eight hours.maybe. then the last of my previous highs memorycells dry up and i want. need. how ca
...Stand....Stand.She beat me to it,then beat me with it.A pair of heavenly bodies,Fighting the gravity of our collective density.Shooting starlets is this galaxy choked night sky.Upon re-entry,We broke up in the atmosphere.Meteor shower,with an asteroid massage.Trip the lights horrific.No one told me it was B.Y.O.Brimstone.Prince Charming plastic face,Could never afford the palace.She blinked my haleys commet,Greyscale aurora borealis.Cynical whore with her lasso umbilical chord.She called it off with a tear filled molotov.And its over.And its over and over and over.will i ever get over?will i everunder...
The Perfect WordThe Perfect Word.The perfect word. The next word. One that fits. One that fits as if it were willed to the page. Cemented. Impervious to eraser tips and backspace backspace backspace keystrokes. Does it exsist? It must. Where is it then? Wedged deep down between the couch cushions. The metaphorical couch cushions of course. No the metaphysical couch cushions. No. The perfect word. Something that rummages through the memory's attic stack of yellowed newspapers with out tearing a page. Mummery. Strumpet. Glim. No no and no. A sentence written is a sentenced flawed. To think we might have strung a string of perfect words is to think we can recite pi, backwards. But surely we can go one for ten, one for a hundred, one per page per chapter per novel. Per lifetime. If we comb over a thesaurus with a magnifying glass. Excuse me? If we comb over a thesaurus with a fine toothed comb. The perfect word. If we are trampled into a bloody fossil-to-be by a murderous heard
Binge and PurgeBinge:Gab el. Bachman. Deep. France. Bergman. Evans. Rise. Sage. Franz. Polanski. Cinematic. Bass. Black. Morgana. Wealth. Eve. Mibikids. Rife. Mornling. Cyrano. Deeper. Scribe. Hudson. Buksport. Ship. Mow. Berkshire. Fellini. Fincher. Astronomer. Riley. Chompsky. Court. Love. Route. Bloniasz. Jove. Distance. Fabric. Producto. Emby. Dean. Freed. Professor. Space. Apotheosis. List. Geodesica. Norcross. Ingersol. Chabert. Chaucer. Noon. Zero. Little. Words. Deepest. Self.Purge:Its not as if Maya Angelou was strung up naked from a Mississippi delta born cotton tree. Well, actually it was. You see back when black buskins beat back the bramble of my god given right to speech impediment laden afterthouhts, I would stroll a slow mosey in a grove of old bo trees. Now my socks stretch only so far as my crinkled fingers can pull these chinese odes to western capitalism. Remember the rice patties, and the rice patty hats. "Men in black pajamas," he would say. And then proceed to crack-a-