Holding my breath until the weekend. Some weeks feel like ascending Everest—with its peak being my two days off, of course.
Everest even contains the word “rest,” as well as “ever,” which to me means perpetual leisure and not death. Imagine having leisure forever.
This would not be like something enjoyed by a vampire, for even they have to work after sundown, seeking victim after victim to feed upon. Though Lugosi made it look effortless and then just crawled into his coffin while others in his part of the world were just waking up.
I was at my favorite neighborhood park when suddenly a throng of zombies began advancing toward me, staring at their cellphones.
This was not your average distracted crowd. These were participants in a park-wide Pokemon Go event. Pokemon Go is a GPS-enabled augmented reality game you play with your mobile device.
Sometimes I pass judgement (see title of this post), but if games such as Pokemon Go is what it takes to get people out and around nature, then I guess it’s not such a bad thing.
I’ve pinned a button onto my jacket that denotes me as soluble. Pure and simple. It’s a blue button with white text.
- I’ve a high potential for condensation. I feel I could dissolve like salt in warm water.
- In an argument, I can disintegrate into clumps like acrylic in an acetone bath.
- Don’t ever wet me or expose me to sudden cold. I need to acclimate to avoid eventual evaporation.
- When I think of soluble, I recall the Wicked Witch of the West withering. I think of candle wax burning.
- If I had it my way, I would rather not leave this Earth in water form. I would prefer to splatter into fiery sparks.
- Or else become a genie fog that curls into a porcelain lamp like a plume of vape smoke traveling back inside your mouth.
- Or drift past the Milky Way into the starry spray of the multiverse.
He sat amid a sea of empty cafe tables and chairs — a lone island in perhaps the Pacific.
The shirt he wore bore illustrations of small sharks — a throng of them speckling the deep.
He himself wore a mohawk.
He had just demolished a slice of pizza: The flattened box sat lifeless on his table.
Hunched in his chair, he now cruised social media on his cellphone.
Lagrime San Pietro for the sublime voices. Di Lasso madrigals. Better with snowfall in barren winter but still above-average lovely.
Can cannibalism save the planet?
Would you eat a Republican
to help curtail climate change?
It’s a perfect day and age
to talk to yourself.
Bluetooth as a ruse —
a bum component wedged
in one’s ear allows one
to carry on in public
Having a cat is like having a plant. You have to give it food, water and some love and make sure it has access to a window. Handle delicately.
Bukowski as the gateway poet.
New Ginsberg book. Post-mortem. $29.95!! The trick is they use courier or some other slab serif to evoke strike-on font.
Book features Ginsberg outside U.S. — journals he penned in England, Poland, Soviet Union, Cuba, Czechoslovakia.
Black-and-whites of him in fur-collar jacket in Red Square, Moscow; performing at Royal Albert Hall in London; pictured in Prague.
It seems obvious they weren’t made for humans because by nature we have greasy hands. Mobile phones are a technology you wanna keep clean. At least I do. But it seems a cruel joke because it’s futile to do so. We live in a grimy world with greasy hands.
I wish I had some popcorn. Maybe I will eat some pretzels in lieu of it. But that would practically be like eating rice cakes instead of what you really fancy.
I like eating popcorn because you can eat a lot of it with little consequence. (Except when you bite down on a kernel). And the repetitiveness of it — popping one fluffy piece after the other — takes your mind off things.
I wonder how much popcorn you would have to eat to actually get full. A pound or two? At any rate, I don’t have any.
A customer is casting a spell at the Starbucks counter. Listen to her conjure. The barista is spellbound! The pastries, they glaze over…