Omar Thimble, Master of the Ancient Art of Pain, in a new kind of role: the citizen decider.
Chief designator.
Art betrays its viewers with promotion; the cast go rogue on the producers and the authorities; free people audience.
- In a few moments we will hear from the military.
- General Deficit?
{General Deficit turns, smiling}
-Yes?
I don't care how passable he may be on SNL, Justin Timberlake's music remains total horseshit. Take Back The Night? What's his next single: Never Again? OK, next up: more fucking poetry from yours truly.
I went into a church, sanctuary from
the hot sun and an attraction to the
hometown tourist in me. Ago I lived
around the corner but now it says
All Are Welcome, so this time
I entered. Therein remembered
the last time I roamed
a place of worship
you got behind
the pulpit;
it was
us, only:
you addressed a congregation of one.
I took some pictures;
We kissed; we must have; we always did;
we could not abstain.
This church was nicer
fancier
famous
But the experience was lacking.
Then I passed a physically and
mentally ill
person nearly folded onto the
sidewalk. S/he was
screaming about being Deceived in
Love
through a mouth
rotten with sores.
Then I walked through that art fair from
last year
but it's next year already;
Somebeast stole off with this year
buried it or chopped it into little pieces
for the freezer or hung it on a cross.
I saw a sign for
Polish masses and I thought
of a throng of Poles until I realized
I was passing a church.
Other signs say keep off the grass
but everyone waters the sidewalk so
what the hell. I can't walk on water.
How people have time to judge others
when they should be busy
hating themselves, I dunno.
Not that some folks don't deserve judging;
Good or Bad I suppose we all do anyway.
So come ye throngs upon the lawn
Judgment Time is nigh
Yeehaw.
Is it bad luck to
Run
under a ladder?
Is it bad luck to be run over
overrun
or overtaken with emotion?
Is love luck
good or bad
or is love the flat out essence of
Luck?
" How you doing? "
- alright. been down on my love.
" What harkened, I thought Y(ou) + X were crazy in luck? "
- guess our love ran out.
" Remember, you have to lick yourself before someone else can like you. "
- you mean lock my wounds?
" No. It was just a dirty joke. But since you mention it, never love your wounds - They can't live without you. "
- can't love with 'em, can't limp without 'em
{ With A Little Luck by Wings plays on a pan flute or a horned skull. Hooves up, lights out - for love }
{ end }
What joker made the
Hollywood Clinic
STD test
$69
?
Someone also
working on a
Romcom
screenplay
I
hope.
Not much sadder
than a birthday balloon
on a child's grave.
And yet it looks
tacky and strange.
And yet it is sadder than
Hell.
Downtown Los Angeles is
losing its
Abandoned charm. My heart is
losing its
Abandoned charm.
{ charm that has been abandoned; charm of being abandoned }
My heart has lost its
Abandon
{ bold hopeful reckless openness }
Democracy is
Losing. Or being
Abandoned.
Cast your vote to
Make love with me
Upon some still
Abandoned
Downtown factory or
Theater
not even worthy
of
Set
designation by
Hollywood.
It was a fumbling time
in Almond Prefecture
and I found love
in the market of the ambling eye.
She looked like all the women
I've ever known
in a punk, fuck you, no one else
matters kind
of way.
But maybe it was the ambling eye
made her look like the others maybe it
was the ambling eye made it look like love
but either way it was love.
When we made love we both always
cried.
She was lost to me in a storm of
cancer and cataracts and boomerangs.
I then fumbled and sync-stumbled again,
a crippled sunbird,
back to the USA
Personality crisis ensued.
I dropped my pants on the
Tonight Show.
Wouldn't pull up my trousers til they
made me the host.
Finally, I got the job
I was born for.
The best since Jack Paar
Freed the nation from stupidity of
Leno and his appointed
successor(s)
Did it all thanks to her:
A far off dead woman in a distant
fictional land
where love exists.
Your Santa sleeve is dragging,
Jesus
& I found the escape hatch under the
Cross.
I left all my blood with three saints
my bones are on exhibit
my skin is over in
Wardrobe and my
soul is up for grabs.
I can't fathom
the way I designed
this thing.
It doesn't work, the rules change, but still it's
impressive.
*•* On menaces ice cream: sorry, typo -
On Persian ice cream purporting to ease effects of menses:
- uh, I guess I'll still have a waffle cone. Though it doesn't pertain to me.
My date'll have two scoops.
I didn't really; make that joke. But the ice cream does; make that claim
*•* To struggling tourist girl whose boyfriend is yelling annoyed at train station CTA card insertion frustration, I offered:
- I'll show you how to put it in.
And I did. Shut up her jackass boyfriend. Brought a smile ape on her face.
Upon her face.
The ape kept walking
Arms low
Humbled. Sedated. Disarmed.
I caught the train alone, nowhere to go
Having already been
Somewhere similar
New adventures of your murder
Your murder was strong
Your murder was right
Then came the telecast
You were alive again
Every week to be murdered
Then one week you won.
Have you heard of Trader Joe's
Bosnian Sheepherder's Cheese
?
It's somewhat
controversial because it's made
from the milk of
primarily older Bosnian sheep
herders.
Some dairy farmers association wants
the name changed to
Trader Joe's Bosnian Sheep Cheese but
the grocery chain refuses.
I understand; if you want the
name changed then stop
herding sheep and start
milking them.
I thought of how hot it was
and how hot it isn't
So I thought about you
about you and me
& some reason I thought of the
Skunk that kept us from your door.
And then there was a skunk right in
front of me and I avoided this skunk
too. Yet there are so many skunks but
I've only seen one
Firefly
- just now it was - and I knew it not by stench or stripe nor not in the
Dark but 'cause it lit up
for a moment as I
passed by.
