page 43

corporate monster only wants to force growth down your throats until you choke on it you want more bitch tell me you want more beg me for it like a good little corporate dog Mr. Crowley wants to become a member of the masses he wants shoes that shines up little girls skirts he wants to be catholic again and to sneak a peek at Jane’s pussy he wants to sleep with the bed bugs and to crawl around on the floor looking up at his master Mr. Crowley wants to give everything away so that he can become so much more mad sad madness he is down with living in glass houses so that his neighbors can see his magical rites he performs his magic in secret now just like all the other madmen it is only his fruits that we see in public he is gluing everything together all the broken pieces he is putting them in a love letter to you he has promised to write you so many times that you forgot that he ever would you thought he was just a figment of your imagination you didn’t really think he existed but he does you can put him in your vodka bottle he won’t fit in there anymore all I do is steal and Mr. Crowley watches me steal from you I steal from tim every chance I get every time he gets up to go to the bathroom we all take out our baggies and steal a couple of buds we each take a handful we are partners in crime I stole Mr. Perry’s wedding ring and traded it for a gun I might have to shoot somebody to save the world someday you never know how these things work out the witchdoctor keeps telling me about the future but I don’t want to believe I have to relearn everything I once knew the past lives are supposed to add up we are supposed to start working on the puzzle where we left off but I have learned that life is not the way they say it is in the books shit you should not believe a single word I have written here it is probably all bullshit how do you even know that I wrote this crap what makes you think I am really me I could be a plant from the government that they put here to spy on you how can you be such an ignorant little fucker you let me inside your head and I shit all over it Kinbote is practicing his lines he has a big part in the upcoming Christmas play I think he has five whole lines he used to having people speak for him the twelve signs when you are a master measuring the stars kinbote is born in our heads every morning he is the lamb speaking and thinking a hammer in one hand and a sword in another printing the mind into matter it was an organized massacre we shot them for more than five hours four hours wouldn’t have been enough five seemed to be just right 111 dead it was a grueling job some of the women tried to break free and run for it but it was in vain they were shot down in their tracks the eye pushed back and down caught in the revolving door Gie said he wanted to go back to prison he said it felt like home there they all get treated the same it doesn’t matter what your diagnosis everyone is given the same poison he is comforted by common suffering the falcon’s meat hook salute to the cripple general of el dorado street he is marching his armies up and down the street Jane has no back to follow she has removed her fig leaf and is practicing witchcraft behind Mr. Perry’s back she knows that kinbote is a battered god the landlord wants a passionate kiss before he sells him into slavery the corporate giants are all agog wetting their pants with anticipation they long for the good old days of bullet proof spokes models everything is for sale in this world and everything is on loan in