Tuesday, January 10, 2012

page 51

dadamax dear friend a nihilistic movement with thought and sound the crazy lady would answer in purely ethical terms a distribution of the inaugural committee the linkage between art and technology drug dealers and doctors in love I painted her with my robotic arm I am a liar when it comes to my presentations behind me is the reality of my work I changed you with floppy drive out of tune and out of time I have her tied up in my southern Illinois farm house it is a pretty nylon rope that binds our souls together I think she shares her face if only she had a clue that could be transcribed for the media and plastered on interstate billboards it looks like she has stubble I have seen it up close the commitment of the mean and cowardly if the lines could read between us what interpretations would they make the thermal lines of Jane’s kiss I watched her kiss the crazy lady it was slow and intentional like a man’s middle name something that was thought over a bottle of wine yes you could say it was premeditated it was the responsibility that she could not accept returning to a one dimensional character something from a book by Murakami someone who disappears into that world between floors the memory of an after-glow as the fireworks exploded Jane builds and the crazy lady deconstructs she talks about you and you and how the context changes the subject of the sentence her lines seem practiced but I know she is improvising I have seen the crazy lady up on the stage before reciting her poetry like a drug fiend looking for the next fix the next brief moment of applause or laughter the grave digger is in the bar watching the crazy lady perform he is drinking a bottle of beer when the crazy lady is done performing she sit down next to the grave digger and asks him where is his shoes he tells her that he lost them in a poker game she asks him who he lost his shoes to and he tells her David the bell weather he says that they were the best pair of shoes he ever did own and the crazy lady agrees the king with a whistle in his pocket walks not the bar and buys everyone a drink toby asks the grave digger if he can buy him a new pair of shoes a pair with buckles and bows the grave digger told the king that he was much obliged and asked if he could rather buy him a new pair of boots so that he could run off and join the army since his wife left him he has no will to live and the army seems like as good as place to die as any I can feel Jane pressing against by backbone her kiss trembles down one side of my mouth she can feel my pain as she bangs her body against me we are breathing in the fumes of our destruction of the world’s destruction I can see it all in ashes a smoldering heap of nothing be the best you can be if you are nothing then be nothing to the best of your abilities is there a truth that can come from this I think not truth does not exist maybe only in poetic circles as the inebriated think of utopia between bong hits for that is where perfection exists only in the mind the real world is harsh and ugly and the innocent die here daily without pity and without hope is this too harsh for you to handle I am sorry for you and I there is no hope in this world we are heading for great big crush a collapse of matter in upon itself returning to the big bang and jane’s big hearted ideas she is running through my fingers like the thoughts that wade in the puddles of mud Mr. Perry is building a fire he is stressing out over the absurdity of his existence he wants his freedom to be red white and blue if it is not the

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