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d-day approaches. current song: fantasie sign (ian pooley remix) from the cowboy bebop ost current reading material: poem, or beauty hurts mr. vinal by e. e. cummings take it from me, kiddo believe me my country, 'tis of you, land of the Cluett Shirt Boston Garter and Spearmint Girl With The Wrigley Eyes (of you land of the Arrow Ide and Earl & Wilson Collars) of you i sing:land of Abraham Lincoln and Lydia E. Pinkham, land above all of Just Add Hot Water And Serve- from every B. V. D. let freedom ring amen. i do however protest, ament the un -spontaneous and otherwise scented merde which greets one (Everywhere Why) as divine poesy per that and this radically defunct periodical. i would suggest that certain ideas gestures rhymes, like Gilette Razor Blades having been used and reused to the mystical moment of dullness emphatically are Not To Be Resharpened. (Case in point if we are to believe these gently O sweetly melancholy trillers amid the thrillers these crepuscular violinists among my and your skyscrapers- Helen & Cleopatra were Just Too Lovely, The Snail's On The Thorn enter Morn and God's In His andsoforth do you get me?) according to such supposedly indigenous throstles Art is O World O Life a formula: example, Turn Your Shirttails Into Drawers and If It Isn't An Eastman It Isn't A Kodak therefore my friends let us now sing each and all fortissimo A- mer i ca, I love, You. And there're a hun-dred-mil-lion-oth-ers, like all of you successfully if delicately gelded (or spaded) gentlemen (and ladies)- pretty littlelivierpill- hearted-Nujolneeding-There's-A-Reason americans (who tensetendoned and with upward vacant eyes, painfully perpetually crouched, quivering, upon the sternly allotted sandpile -how silently emit a tiny violetflavoured nuisance: Odor? ono. comes out like a ribbon lies flat on the brush. which reminds me; this will be my last post for a while. i don't quite know when we'll get the internet hooked up in the apartment. i don't even know how much it will be. all i know is that i have about a week's worth of food, and about 3 weeks' in cigarettes. so it evens out to me needing to get a job in 2 weeks. that means that i can sit on my ass for about 4 days. i can't wait for a little vacation, but i know that the corpse and the blueberry probably won't understand that i can get a job in 3 days...and they'll probably nag on me a bit. i love them both and i know that they mean well, but i just need...i need a couple days off. i'll pull my hair out if i have to go right into work. speaking of my hair, i'm going to need to get a box of colour. it's very...well, it's peach-ish. i'm probably going to have to take the metal out of my face. oh well. i'm out like tye-dye and poyesther. ~*~ immediate yesterday. ~*~ divination. ~*~ get your own guestbook here |
