“FILE NOT FOUND.” light a cigarette and breathe, “INVALID VALUE ENTERED.” this demon is in control. looks like it’s terror again. polarized in pending transactions. “remain unnamed with your ass in the flames.” says the fascist fairy in the loudspeaker. might as well be crooning ‘ARBEIT MACH FREI’ over an accompaniment of soulless dancey trancey. fuck-all, because ‘TEENAGE WASTELAND’ keeps playing over & over in the crowded coliseum of my skull. I’ll destroy what I complete and wrap in black tape what I try so fucking hard to ignore.silly little scratch. written up my arm like a trash pamphlet. silly little flesh question. now I know what ‘KILLING ME SOFTLY’ means. in vivid detail issuing from small perfect mouth with small perfect lips. downtown was a slippery rug tonight. (my wit called in sick & being aloof is like asking for a stay of execution.) standing oblivion in the Flea Market of lost souls. outstanding oblivion, as it were. these Formica microcosms playing like psychological rummage sales. “my neurosis is worth 4 turns in the maelstrom.” so begins the barter, “e-mail me your stats.” I like to keep Vincent Price in my sample library for just such an occasion. fuck all original pathos. we always reach the same conclusion as a 5 pound wrench. yeah, at break-time we light up the old wounds ‘cause the smoke is so sweet. so much for the ghostly peacock with its albino solutions. if only we all had such wings under which to play at nonexistence?
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