Sunday, November 9, 2008


Study me then, you who shall lovers be
At the next world, that is, at the next spring:
__For I am every dead thing,
__In whom love wrought new alchemy.
____For his art did express
A quintessence even from nothingness,
From dull privations, and lean emptiness
He ruined me, and I am re-begot
Of absence, darkness, death; things which are not.

______A Nocturnal upon St. Lucy's Day, John Donne

Dakar (Sénégal), by Finbarr O’Reilly, Reuters

there is no dancing here. i just want you to know that straight-up. off-the-cuff. right out there ; _ok?, just want there to be no... mis.non.understanding - it's all out there now. all out there.
And that's pretty much it for rules. you can rest assure, there's no other problems. even when you drink water from clean glasses and your lips leave their little prints on the edge (the fingertips of lips) - that's cool too. all that. and after you shower and the floor's wet for half an hour... often times more. admit it, alot of the time it's much longer than half an hour. half an hour is like the generous estimate. (and that's what we like to call hope. - but let's not get into all that. semantics, and all that meaninglessness stuff. means nothing doesn't it? just words. not a paycheck or a cheeseburger to be found int he whole lot, so why bother says i? why bother?)

Oh, listen, before i forget, try and keep the lights off if you're not in the room ok? attracts bugs, sure sure, it really doesn't matter if you're in there. but, personally, i just keep 'em off all the time. Unless you don't mind sharing with bugs... but it's the noise they make. worse than refrigerators - they sound like static or something, a high-pitched sing-a-long, like fluorescent lights or something, half an hour of that, i'm sure i'm tripping again like it's high-school. No, not me, i never did. No, never at all. Jesus forbid that sort of thing. All the others too, God-people, proof-readers? Prophets. Yes, well that's what i meant. a pun obviously, where's your sense of literatzi? heh? heh? ____No worries, yeah, you can hide your champagne in here, it's just flappy wall-paper, but no one need know. looksy there, the last guy has a candle and a paperclip. damn occultists - everything's a goddamned symbol. huh? yeah, i agree. (damned agnostics, nothing's a mystery to that lot except why there's questions and equal signs and no answers.

truth =
meaning =
alleverything =
if you search for happiness, you might find (at least a part of it, if it can be detached into littler parts) it at =

Listen, if you find that you shed alot of hair, then that's fine. i often think there'll be nothing left of me at all but bones, a handful of white dust and hair that feels unreal soon as it's not on your head. (or where ever else). na na, i didn't mean nothing unwholesome by that. meant the whole lot. whole. all of it, yup, protein's protein. Never. no. leave my prayers by the front door, God's got the wind and the ocean and the damned insects mumbling to him all damned night long - doesn't need me with my last good remaining three teeth joining in that chorus. no sir. my fingers hate the touch of newspapers, and loneliness, and prayer books.

but i'm serious about the dancing, ya hear me now son? keep it to a mimimum, and i mean the whole lot. stamping. jumping-jacks. those seizures you junkies get up to - that's called dancing here just the same as any pas de deux. you try that stunt in here, might as well consider it your danse macabre ya hear me? your tottentanz. (Ophelia drifts past, white as a calla lily or a jasmine petal or 14 white lies told to protect one darned truth no one ought to hear. i'll take all the lies i can get to avoid hearing that other thing just once. just once is bad enough. __You hear it?, yeah it's a piano. No. No piano on premises. not the neighbours either. Anamoly. Time and space disturbances, not to be taken too seriously. think of it as wind, think of it as a dream-catcher - yes, no sir, you can dream in sound just the same as your arm-pit dreams in mould and your penis dreams in thrusts and scratches and freaks. whichever way then, climbing the walls is fine but watch that patch there, there's a cockroach family, honest-t0-god a good famliy, been paying their rent for years, lives under the roof there, see the stain?, yeah, they urinate there. same spot they carry their dead. 12 generations worth now. they cry better than the rest of us - try and keep your head under sheets at night, they've quite a liberal policy regarding privacy space. Anomaly causes the sound, don't know what happens after that. moon's all retrograde on us, like we're upside down all night long, drifting off on boats we never remember boarding.

don't care what you do for decoration, long as you keep few friends, spend too much time alone, waste hours conscious that your skin is being scraped off you and your hair is being detached and in the end you're nothing but nails and bones and calcium patches, you're right for our establishment here.

the piano keys all turned yellow in the end. player or not, they did that all on their own.

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