Sunday Morning

sunday morning the heavy male voice on the radio the guy that reads the five minutes of news that comes at the top of the hour that little note of somber reality quickly read to us that quick shot of bitter espresso that little jolt to wake us up before the she brings us the flute of too sweet champagne and orange juice before the full brunch of crepes filled with sweet berries and whipped cream before the lively lady regales us with homey montages of the latest norah epheron julia child movie the obama beer sipping controversy the best beach books of the summer moving on to giggling bantering around the sunday puzzle some upbeat middle aged man his faithful wife and beautiful dog sitting at his feet both laughing along with him with the radio lady and her little self-depracating jokes about her own intelligence her lack thereof her own inability to come up with the five letter words that begin with an eff end with an ish or an esh and might fit into a shakespearean sonnet should he mister shakespeare himself arise from the dead shake off the dust the dirt the loam of neglect of several centuries begin anew scribbling limericks about nantucket on discarded wienerschnitzel napkins found on the streets of indianapolis of saint louis of des moines of toledo our puzzle solving hero signing off victoriously hands clasped overhead rocky atop the steps of the philadelphia museum dancing away with the goods a morning edition coffee mug and a tee shirt to wear around the starbucks just outside his suburban gated enclave

this morning sunday morning the heavy male voice he says in a rather matter of fact sort of way he says with his scintillating journalistic excellence his keen eye to neutered objectivity he says

four american soldiers died today when a roadside bomb exploded near their vehicle and

without skipping a beat

he goes on to talk of prolonged aid for unemployment running out the throngs of people mourning the loss of miz aquino in manila and a renewed effort to buy clunkers from fools who bought ess you vees people of means yes but by no means kings of the road or so you would think or so you would hope

goddamn

ah sunday mornings

sometimes they just be reg'lar sometimes they just like any other day sun comes up over the water just like yesterday just like it might tomorrow comes up over the water washes us cleanses us whispers into narrates our vivid just before waking dreams tells us jesus loves us yes he does because the bible tells us so because the residuals of the last joey of the evening toked on the couch while watching the two ay em western black and white with audy murphy that joey still flies around your head in an old old red tri-plane a dog on doghouse chasing it the dog shaking its paw the scent of the joey printed on the banner sailing behind flapping in the breezes flowing between hammer anvil and stirrup and their respective unobstructed stoner holes

jesus loves you on one side jesus is the reason for the season on the other

but sometimes a sunday morning comes around and changes a man's life sometimes on a sunday morning mister preacherman he might stand up in front of the congregation he might talk about jesus christ he might talk about jesus at just the right moment in a man's life he might invoke the holy spirit at that moment when a man is down crippled with the aftereffects of a saturday night a man who awoke in the front seat of his car slumped over the steering wheel the white dry saliva crusted not only on his lips but on his thick useless tongue as well an ashtray full of butts an empty pint of bourbon peeking out of a paper bag in his lap an empty bottle of aftershave on the seat next to him sometimes a preacherman might find that man might reach that man

might change his life

all it takes is a moment all it takes is a snap crackle pop of time

sitting down sunday morning just hanging down at java beach digging the sun the air the leftover saturday buzz the glow of the lingering fuck the fog of the night before sin no less than boomhauer himself yes with crisp white tee shirt you ess flag drawn on its sleeve you ess em sea on his baseball cap coffee spills the table mumbles his discontent

give me a gun i'll kill 'em all

out the window down the street gulls flying round like drunken skeet

big you ess flag flapping in the wind over the church
how many friends do we leave in the lurch
you ess flag flapping in the breeze
a few more bullets get 'em on their knees

flap jack lip smack kiss their ass good bye
flip flop tick tock more people die

way way on down way down in afgahni-town

and hippies on the beach doing the yoga thing in the pacific sun all decked out in their hippie yogi tights wic-a-way shirts complete with politically appropriate and witty slogan printed across some artistic interpretation of an obama yes we can bumper sticker phattie smiles circle their addled peace-loving brains dirty fucking faggots i bet they were quakers or hare krishnas in a previous life i bet they've never even shot a gun i bet they've never twisted the neck off a chicken in order to make the sunday dinner i bet they don't know how many mexicans got to die to bring their organic tomato salsa corn chips to the farmer's market

don't you know if i had a four foot long hippie dick don't you know the miracles that would spring forth

hell if my dick were four feet long i'd wear tight yogi pants too if my dick were four feet long i wouldn't have to wear kevlar cammo and a helmet wouldn't have to run around them mountains shooting at goats and bearded fucks with rags wrapped round their heads if my dick were four feet long i wouldn't have to prove to the world how fucking studly i am

i wouldn't have to sublimate with a grenade launcher

like obama do

obama who don't even know why we're in afghani-town says he needs time to figure it out got to determine the proper metrics it ain't just about how many we kill there are other things to consider we got to come up with a standardized normalized methodology for capturing statistics boiling them down stirring them up sliding them into an effective power point presentation with graphs and animations and slogans talk about how many wells we've drilled how many schools we've built how many people vote in the next election we'll create nine solid metrics that we'll track that we'll report to the media that we'll beam out to the heavens bounce them back down to show the world prove to everyone that

we're doing the right thing

that we're winning

and winning is all that fucking counts hell if my dick were four feet long i'd just hang round the house get lucky and slide

like obama do

obama who don't even know why we're in afghani-town says he needs time to figure it out jesus mary and joseph fucking hell it's just like watching hoops on tv the drones sink another basket nutha mulla down we all just wanna know where to place our bets we all just want to know who is setting odds

meanwhile we just send more troops we kill more we send more troops we die more

hell yeah

gonna get me a drone
gonna make me a surgical strike
gonna find his momma's home
gonna fuck up his lovely wife

sometimes a sunday morning comes around and changes a man's life all it takes is a moment all it takes is a snap crackle pop of time

sunday morning four american soldiers died today and all that

haiku one oh nine

a tragedy at sea

sunday sutro baths
the sea she grumbles a bit
feeds on her anger

day by ev'ry day
she beats the shit out of the
nooks crannies and caves

ribbons of water
twist twirl tickle and tingle
sweet sugary love

her greying blowhole
spews surf sand sun and pleasure
she wants only him

the stairs leading down
blocked by sign with picture of
man swept out to sea

spry tourist hops wall
big wave big spray he tumbles
the sign is quite clear

eight men sit their boards
in kelly's cove near seal rock
see a head bobbing

two tourists tripping
lounging in their lawnchairs
view the baths below

sun below the gulls
umbrella deflects the fog
shore patrol speeds by

there was a good man
a long tube slid down his throat
red lights flash for him

oblivious folks
waltz along the beach tonight
sand stirs between toes

he won't die alone
there's always somebody else
follows soon enough

Big Bad Wolf

eenie meenie minie moe
catch a nigger by the toe
if he hollers let him go
eenie meenie minie moe

my momma told me to pick
the very best one

and you

are not

it

and davy counts us off again and again and we're all in a circle each of us with a foot poked out standing up hands on hips with a dirty bare foot stuck into the middle davy kneeling down below us his own foot extended like a russian dancer

he's inside the circle that is us

we're in his yard just one of many yards around the houses in the neighborhood there are no fences there is no need for any one lawn bleeds into the next which bleeds into the next which bleeds into the next neat little homes all in a row down the street up the street a neat little patchwork of neat little homes all single story all made of worn brick

weather worn dark red brick

there are no houses made of straw no houses made of twigs there are no three little pigs there is no big bad wolf there is only

karl's brother

karl's older brother don't know how much older but he's older old enough to have been in and out of jail a few times already none of us really know him we're hardly twelve thirteen and we don't really know him we just know of him i don't think karl knows him that well either

karl's brother he gets out of jail every now and then comes home to stories and tales and rumors and people pointing at him from across the street nodding toward him as they gossip as they talk of how such a good boy he had been

back before

and then one night one day the deputy pulls up to karl's house and he's gone again he's back in we'd heard he'd stolen a motorcycle we'd heard he'd stolen a car we'd heard he'd robbed a country store

but it's summer nineteen seventy one he's back out this summer he's back home this summer

this his last summer in halifax

he's got a motorcycle he's got an old indian he works on it every day in their tar and gravel driveway he fiddles with this fiddles with that

he sits on an old milk crate next to his motorcycle a bunch of wrenches lay on a leather apron a can of dubya dee forty a screwdriver some used spark plugs a couple of new ones still in the box a spacer and some wires with leads a transistor radio all sitting next to him on the drive

tinny country music crackling from the little speaker

he's wearing jeans and a white sleeveless tee shirt smoking one fag after another grease on his fingers smudges on his arms all the way up his arms those arms with muscles always knotted up and tense a tattoo of a snake wrapped around a single stemmed rose

he scares the shit out of all of us

karl says he says it sometimes with pride sometimes with a little puzzled look on his pudgy face karl he says he going to vietnam so i guess karl's brother he's scared too

karl says they let him out of jail to go to vietnam the judge he says that karl's brother needs to learn how to be a responsible citizen the judge he says that karl's brother needs what the army's got to offer him so he's going to vietnam that's why they let him out of jail this time karl says that his brother doesn't talk much since he got out this time karl says he his brother he watches the news on the tee vee channel thirteen out of lynchburg the only channel they get because karl's house doesn't even have an antennae

says his brother just sits and watches the tee vee news and works on his motorcycle i guess he karl's brother i guess he has his own big bad wolf mister nixon himself mister nixon president nixon he sent karl's brother a letter single page letter telling him he has to report down to the selective service station he has to join the army shave off his long greasy hair

his ma karl's ma she sits out on little stoop on the side of the house the side door going right into the kitchen she sits out on the little stoop on the side of the house in her housecoat and nightgown and slippers her hair in curlers

she leans over smoking a cigarette

we watch from the scheffler's yard we're sitting around on the lawn it's the end of the day we ain't done much all day i have a paper route craddock he works mornings out on his granddaddy's tobacco farm richard holt he ain't never had to work his momma gives him money davy scheffler works down at dixons five and dime sweeping out the store room some mornings bill bishop his daddy got him working around the house

right now we're doing nothing now we me davy bill bishop richard holt davy's sister vivian craddock craddock's sister gayanne we're all sitting around we're counting the fireflies as they start to come out dancing around the yard but it's august and it's hot and sticky and we're too tired and bored to even get up and chase them

and the bats flitter up and around above us in the dusk and every now and then we slap at a mosquito and every now and then we slap at a gnat as it tries to sneak up our nostrils or into the corner of our eyes and we tell stories and we talk about how bored we are

we talk about cars about the car we're gonna get when we're sixteen craddock he wants a plymouth he hates ford's he says ford stands for found on road dead me i want a ford i want a mustang like my old man drives we tell jokes dirty jokes we tell jokes about pussy and niggers about shit we know nothing about

we joke we kid karl he's an easy one to kid his daddy is never around karl is kind of big and fat and he has sores on his legs and his clothes are dirty and his pants always have holes sometimes with patches on the holes most of the times there's no patch

we kid him about being poor hell ain't none of us got money but karl he's extra poor so we feel better than karl and we're punk cracker kids so we poke at him and point at his momma sitting on the stoop we tell him his momma's big old tits are going to fall out of the nightgown we can see them swinging beneath the sheer material

swinging like large bolognas in the window down at the butcher shop

his momma is talking with karl's brother she's got a tall plastic cup with ice and a small straw and some kind of brown liquid maybe ice tea maybe something else she's smoking her cigarette she's pointing with her cigarette lipstick staining the tip we can't hear her she can't hear us

karl he doesn't say anything

we just keep on laughing joking a tear streams down karl's face then another his lip trembles but he doesn't say anything until his brother glances over i guess he's tired of listening to whatever his mom is saying he glances over all pissed off to begin with he notices karl

he sees davy scheffler whispering something to karl and pointing

we hear the wrench clanging on the drive as it slips down out of his hand just lets it fall to the ground tosses flicks his cigarette he walks toward us across the lawn he takes his time it's only about twenty thirty yards far enough away he lights another fag flicks his zippo against his jeans lights his cig walks right up to us

we want to scurry and run we don't we're frozen fascinated at what might happen open to the possibility we're so fucking bored we're twelve thirteen years old living in a town of eight hundred people in the middle of buttfuck egypt southside virginia we're so bored we'll sit there and wait take the chance that whatever is about to happen it will happen to one of the others not to us

karl's brother he walks up to us we're a bunch of dumb cows just standing around waiting for the cowboy to cull us out of the herd and send us to the butcher he karl's brother he doesn't say anything he just walks up right up to us stops looks down looks at karl looks at each one of us not a glance not a quick look a good hard three count stare at each and every one of us none of us holds the stare we look down at our dirty bare feet within a two count davy is the last one whose eyes he steals davy he's the only who can keep his head up the only one who returns the look karl's brother he grins flicks away his half finished fag and with no warning smacks the shit out of davy scheffler just smacks him once an open palmed smack i'm sitting right next to davy i feel the wind of his hand flying through the air i feel the heat from his palm landing on davy's cheek i hear the loud sudden

slap

and the surprised scream escaping involuntarily from davy's mouth that sudden outburst of shock pain dismay and embarrassment davy is a proud boy i've seen him take the lash of his old man's belt one two three his old man having him by the arm davy not even doing the chicken dance no sidestepping so slipping away i've seen davy take a beating and not utter a word not a cry not a whimper

but this time davy falls back and over and rolls trying to get out of the way we all scatter and scramble as karl's brother reaches down not to grab davy again he's done with davy he grabs karl by the arm yanks him up drags him back over to his own yard

karl trying to get away

his momma already throwing away her cigarette opening the door going into the kitchen screen door slap slap slapping behind her karl's brother drags karl around back karl's beat up pee eff flyers one with an open toe drags karl across the drive his pee eff flyers scraping along the gravel

the summer air is still and heavy we're silent and we hear nothing we hear nothing we hear nothing not even a cricket or bullfrog or starling nothing until we hear a

no

and the sound of flesh hitting flesh once twice three times and we hear nothing else not a word not a cry not a whimper

the summer air goes still and heavy and we're still silent there's not even a cricket or bullfrog or starling nothing until vivian she's the youngest she just turned twelve she's tall and skinny with new sprouting summer tits we're silent until vivian she says hey we should play fox and hounds take off get out of here and the crickets and bullfrogs and starlings all chime in and we all chime in with ideas of teams and who is going to be a fox who is going to be a hound

and davy he's the oldest he's thirteen going to be fourteen soon he has hair under his armpits and on his legs and he says hey he says hey

everybody put your foot in get in a circle put your foot in and he counts us off

eenie meenie minie moe
catch a nigger by the toe
if he hollers let him go
eenie meenie minie moe

my momma told me to pick
the very best one

and you

are not

it

and then again and again and again each of us not being it each of us leaving the circle one goes to the foxes the next one goes to the hounds the next one goes to the foxes until no one is left in the circle about half way through the count i go to the hounds i hate being a hound it's much more fun to be a fox

i'm a hound with craddock and his sister gayanne and bill bishop and the others are foxes vivian runs into the house comes running back out with a box of chalk for the foxes to mark their trail we're supposed to find them the foxes they all take off we're to count to a hundred we're to go find them who the fuck knows where they'll go we use the entire town the woods the trails the farms around town wherever the fuck we want to go

we own this town just like it owns us

and we count one and two and three and ninety seven and ninety eight and ninety nine and one hundred we get ready to go and karl comes running around from his back yard as we're leaving he catches up joins us a little out of breath from the short run his face is turning a little purple on one side bright pink and red and purple he's holding something as we take off heading off up the street up the hill after the others the foxes he karl he holds up two big green bottles holds them up wide over his head like two trophies like he'd just knocked cassius clay out of the ring

he holds up two bottles of boone's farm wild mountain grape wine

he says

pulling the bottles back down to his chest looking over his shoulder he says let's go come on let's hurry we run off he tells us his brother went inside the house and karl he knew where his brother kept his beer and cigarettes and yes these bottles of boone's farm and he grabbed them we have to go we have to go now before karl's brother comes back out

and we're no longer that interested in the hounds we wander up the street up toward my house we start in the scheffler's yard it's on the corner of pine and cypress we walk up the the street toward my yard it's on the corner of oak and cypress

only they're not streets they're lanes pine lane cypress lane oak lane i don't know the difference but they're not streets they're lanes

we see the first fox marker they've drawn an arrow with the chalk drawn it on the road a bright yellow arrow we follow its direction we go a couple of blocks we see another arrow except this time the arrow is really two arrows drawn on the road one points right across the street off toward a path that goes down into the woods heads down toward the creek the other points left toward my back yard toward the tree house that davy and bill bishop and i built in the big cypress in the corner of my back yard

not really a tree house just a bunch of planks nailed across two big branches about fifteen feet up just some planks and an old piece of chain link fence nailed alongside it's a sort of white trash hammock

and

we nailed short boards up the trunk a shaky ladder leading up into the canopy

and

we look left up into the tree and don't see anyone we look right where the path leads down into the darkness we look left we look right we shrug and head left climb up into the tree one at a time karl comes last he tosses me the bottles and follows us up

karl opens the first bottle twists that top right off and takes a big long swig and coughs and hands it to bill bishop who does the same who hands it to craddock who does the same who hands it to me and then onto gayanne and back around again and again until karl finishes it off and drops the bottle into the bushes below

all this time not a word is said we just sit back lay back suck down the throat and stomach sting masked in that sickly sweet juice while the light fades and the darkness seeps from down around the edges up into the sky a starless molasses sky with only a big old moon hanging there light yet dull

and bill bishop leans sits back against the trunk and craddock stretches out on his side his head propped up in one hand and and i crawl out onto the chain link hammock gayanne quietly behind me trying to catch my eye and karl he sits indian style in the middle of us all trying to open up the second bottle

but his hand keeps slipping and he's laughing and we're laughing we're all laughing that drunken kid giggle the more he tries to open it the more he just can't do it the more we giggle

in the still night air it's just our giggles and the crickets and the bullfrogs and we can hear the television from the neighbor's house it's turned up loud so they can hear it over the roar of the big window fan and the sound drifts out and over and up to us a sound all chopped up by the metal blades

it's a thursday night bewitched is on

and gayanne she takes hold of my hand and craddock he reaches over steadies the bottle while karl tries again this time we here the crack hiss of the top breaking its seal spinning round and karl offers first hit to craddock who passes it to bill who passes it to karl who passes to me and i give it to gayanne who hits it and gives it back to her brother and again

and we're laughing and craddock nearly rolls off the rickety platform and bill is hugging the trunk of the tree and karl is laid out on his back howling at the moon like some old dog and gayanne she leans over and tries to kiss me and i let her and then i kiss her back and we're rolling precariously about on the chain link hammock suspended over the bushes below

i touch one of her budding tits and she slides my hand up her shirt and we're oblivious to the others to the howling the giggling the laughing such sweet kisses lips so young and soft and open and willing and we explore without thought of anything else we don't know what we're doing we don't care

my twelve year old cock is so hard it hurts i know it will hurt tomorrow but i don't care we don't care

nobody cares about nothing

it's a summer night

until we hear bill bishop gagging until we hear bill bishop give a big ralph over the side of the platform spewing purple vomit projectile vomit over and over and karl laughs and craddock laughs and my cock isn't hard any longer

and we hear the tell tale sound of the indian roaring to life the crickets go quiet and the bullfrogs go quiet and the still air stirs and we see a lone headlight coming up the hill following the roar

and the laughing stops and we lay flat on the platform and yeah it's karl's brother on his bike and he's roaring up the hill until he nears the cypress and slows we peek over the edge of the planks through the mesh of the chain link as he glances up

gently tosses something into the soft grass in front of the tree

before gunning the engine and taking off on up the road becoming a faint red light in the night becoming nothing nothing

and we scramble down the tree all of us except for bill bishop who begins his vomiting anew but this time hacking hacking the dry heaves and we scramble down the tree to find an unopened bottle of boone's farm wild mountain grape

karl leans over to pick it up falls tumbles into the dew laden grass we pile on top it's a late night game of smear the queer we roll around until karl also vomits he crawls from beneath the mound of drunk kids until his head slides over the edge of the culvert and he vomits

and he cries

and we climb back up into the tree house bottle in hand where i wake up with the morning doves cooing the mockingbirds cackling gayanne still asleep on my shoulder both of us in the hammock and bill bishop and craddock and karl all huddled up shivering snoring on the platform

the bottle unopened

and all that

oh momma

your momma's cast iron skillet right off the burner fresh from flipping flapjacks and frying pre-dawn bacon sliding beneath the dripping faucet the lowland valley fog sizzles burns dissipates with the break of day with the break of god's loving glance her knowing wink that welcoming grin

goddamn

sitting back in the town car speeding down the beautiful highway coming over the ridge relaxing in my post-sleep pre-consciousness looking out the window the morning sun rising over the east bay over san bruno mountain red orange yellow tequila sunrise goddamn don't you know i need a long slow seventies eagle's song fuck

down down down

looking out the window down upon the bay below airplanes skirt skip and soar up up up and away my driver big al he drones on he tells me that he couldn't live out near the beach where i park my sorry ass he couldn't exist survive thrive flourish he needs sunshine he needs warmth he misses san diego the outsidelands are too harsh on the flesh too hard on the soul

drones on and on like a see eye a robot jet sailing over the pakistani plains

al's a pussy he has more hair on his back than he does on his head he don't have the balls to face ocean beach much less embrace it i'm gonna buy me a gross or two of drab grey sweatshirts i'm gonna grab some crayolas draw me some cartoony curly cues looking like the foamy spray of breaking waves i'm gonna become the hippie with a silk screen in my garage gonna come up with a snappy caption or maybe just steal it from cleveland i ain't proud

the outsidelands
you gotta be tough

i'm gonna print 'em up i'm gonna sell a million of 'em to the tourists the ones who look at the travel brochures of sunny california the land of milk and honey blondes and bikinis and booty calls who come bouncing into san francisco in their bermuda shorts and gold's gym tank tops flip flops

the outsidelands
you gotta be tough

they learn oh so quickly survival being such a lovely human attribute the things we'll wear the things we'll eat the things we'll do

just to make it to another day

earlier this morning in the pale darkness of no longer night i walk up the hill gaze out over the water out onto kelly's cove i am a big ass baby seal moaning on the big seal rock can you hear me moan can you hear me do like i do when i do looking out over the water the pelicans diving diving splash no fucking jonathan livingston seagulls they no sirree

today we must eat tomorrow we sleep

perhaps for eternity

sliding into sutro baths dark dark pools of pigeon and gull guano while out on the big rock connected to the outsideland via a little spit of sand big old rock sitting out in the churning water

six rubber boot clad asian fishermen long poles aloft lines hanging hanging floating bouncing flouncing flitting in on above the surf oh the frying fish sizzle the fresh fish fly high

i feel the earth give way to water and the morning i give up

fuck me

i don't care i don't give a good goddamn i'm past it i've shat shaved showered scrubbed i'm preparing myself for the fondling fingers of our nation's best the bright eyed bushy tailed front line of defense protecting me from myself protecting me from others protecting others from me

i'm so dangerous
i'm so fucking covert
you better make a fuss
best know yo' worth

homeland security takes dey little penlights shines 'em down my throat looks in my ears tussles my hair frisks me lets their parts slither up and down and around my parts lets their latex covered hands cup my balls slide a finger up my ass wiggle it around make sure i got no explosives tucked up there

oh

just be careful baby let me tell you don't you know i'm about to explode i'm about to make jism jihad all over your smooth skinned alabaster ass

fatboy slim is fucking in heaven

and

i had never seen a purple cow
i had hoped to never see one
til i sucked on that pipe
and that goddamned purple cow
came traipsing through my living room

because i just cannot get onto a plane these days without getting totally stoned out of my gourd its my own personal tea ess ay i mean there's fucking terrorists out there even brother orpheus can't decide whether or not to get rid of the color coded system

we're still in fucking orange for crissake

and the doors closed anyway wheels up in the event of a water landing the seat will serve as a floatation device some fat not phat man a distant cousin to jabba the hut he's in the aisle seat he smells like a french engineer i'm trapped in this sardine can but he's got a very nice coat nice blue silk lining too bad it won't fit me

i won't pummel him and run

until we get to new york

where mister singh drives me into the city under the river through the tunnel to the marriott marquis yeah i know i fucking hate this hotel but i'm a points whore they put me way up high on the forty second floor and they make me feel special call me sir don't yell at me if i taint the sheets and give me privileges that make me feel special

and it's late and i'm up here way way up here hotel room so high off the street that the flushing toilet going kavoosh sends a breeze around my ankles knees and balls kind of tickles i'm way up high purple cow high way up here just below the clouds on the forty second floor overlooking times square

standing in the window wish i had you in front of me i'd take you any way you'd give it

and i wake up to tv news commercials providing masturbatory fodder chic shaper bumpits shaveless razors big tits big hair smooth legs stroke stroke ah

black orpheus he throws out the first pitch for the world series he throws like a fucking girl he goes up and chats with the announcers he laughs he jokes he tells us we should relax enjoy the fucking game he's giving us

i thought you were going to be different i trusted you i thought you were going to come in and show us the other guys were wrong you talked a good game but you now walk like a faggot cruising the trail behind the beach chalet you got no balls you're a switch for any bruce with a buck i thought you were going to be different but you wiretap us you send more soldiers to any fucking place with a few muslim madmen just so you can claim a big swinging dick you give in to the insurance companies the banks the generals

well fuck you too

i switch the channels spongebob is pulling down eight billion clams per annum goddamn i love his square yellow faggot ass let's run off to vermont and marry

it's just another day sun rising in the big city

a walk a cab driven by another mister singh who yells at other cab drivers he honks waves his fist out his window threatening old blind ladies with limping three-legged seeing eye dogs while i sit on on a conference call talking like i'm in my office

there is no normal

we eat lunch a nouveau pork chop sandwich served by a skinny pale skinned goth with heavy hip black glasses black dress boots designed to pinch my balls between brass heel tips and marble floor and a tight grin that suggests she's crushed balls before she'll gladly do it again

i wax poetically about the glorious televised path upon which we traipse and follow hallowed be thy name thy kingdom come thy will be done in the ether as it was formerly done on your father's zenith forgive us this day our daily trespasses as we forgive those by fucking them up the ass with a thousand volts of electricity or worse a hundred fifty years in a north carolina prison

and my associates say amen

at which time i pay the wench sixty five dollars for three sandwiches three ice teas and a healthy dose of attitude i don't care i'm at peace with my time here on earth i would still fuck her simply for the notch on my belt

we are made for each other

and then it's chugga chugga choo choo penn station to thirtieth street philly beautiful summer day cock in hand lust on my mind not a cloud in the sky the trees zip by one after another one two three four more and more until we cross the delaware river like george hisself

i am george you may call me george i will surprise my hessian whore at home when if i ever find her bend her over the row boat in the icy river plant my flag call it glory

but for now i will fuck myself in the privacy of yet another marriott corner room gold elite different city the room is the same i am a creature of habit and comfort

i do the dirty old man's yoga stretch down and touch my toes kiss my own ass suck my own cock i can deep throat my entire ten inches

i run through the streets of philadelphia down the ben franklin parkway up the museum rocky steps i flip off the world continue down the river along the rowing houses young white studly men and women doing pushups on the dock while the river rocks their world i pick it up back round the other side of the museum back toward downtown

run round the love sculpture fountain couples cuddle on the marble benches holding hands doing the deep deep look into each other's eyes some they kiss some they whisper to each other little sweet nothings that i can't hear but i do i hear it all some that just sit smile reminisce about yesterday's fuck but this guy no not this guy he's looking at me or maybe away from her while she cries looking straight ahead long red hair freckles stained by salty streams

i want to offer her the solace she needs take and kiss her hand tell her it will be all right but i won't lie to her i won't try to feed her the pablum of disillusionment

the sky is falling

while the sun sets settles down over william penn the proprietor of pennsylvania he pisses on his city of brotherly love as jesus pisses on the pope

and

girlfriend she says that cynicism well she says that specifically my cynicism it simply plays into the man's game gives him what he wants says that i'm his bitch with my cynical self

girlfriend she says that optimism is a political statement that optimism is a change agent

well shit

she don't know she can't accept that cynicism is a survival technique i mean fuck don't you know we're all pelicans diving diving splash no fucking jonathan livingston seagulls we no sirree

today we must eat tomorrow we sleep

perhaps for eternity

big bright sun white sky camera obscura closed where ya gonna go where ya gonna go

osama obama oh momma we're still in the midst of the killing fields bang bang i will pray to any god that can stop this shit

and all that

Death Becomes Us

aw the moon

it do just hang there it do just sit up there in the sky in the southwest georgia darkness full and bright a portal into other worlds look deep look long spin spin within its circle of light draped round the meadow garments flowing arms outstretched and twisting head back mouth open tongue extended reaching oh they reach waiting wanting god willing god will provide the sugar it drips it drops onto this earth sprinkles of darkness glowing black cloying beads of lust confused with love confused with simple being with

state of mind

spirit body jesus claims it all he comes collecting pushing his rusting shopping cart through the aisles the front left wheel wiggling a six year old's loose tooth hey look ma hey look jesus he digs through the trash cans poking around with an old stick blackened smooth by the oils in his hands from the oils permeating up out through his hunting grounds every now and then he finds a little treasure a bit of a soul a touch of heart of this of that a little something a bit of love thrown away we've so much to give though we barely give him any we give him nothing give him none leave him kneeling beseeching at the church door it banging in the wind

the breath of satan himself sliding around over and under the sanctuary oh what a funny word refuge haven harbor protection from the very breath of satan himself sliding about he can't come in unless invited he peers through the windows nose pressed close against the glass his hoary breath scorching leaving stains reds oranges yellow

the preacher back inside

still at the dais arm hand finger pointing upward his puffy black sleeve hanging limply simply hanging his face all scrunched up a fresh red apple sitting within the roaring hearth propped up against broad burning branches retaining its fiery color yet hissing spitting screaming a high pitched commentary against hedonism godlessness alcohol and them duke boys

they be so hazardous

we don't like you we just want to try you

brotherman telling us my grandfather
he had been such a good man
brotherman telling us my grandfather
he be delivered back to the land

from whence he came from whence he was made from whence we are all made we come from the dirt we live in the dirt we return to the dirt

brotherman he stand up prancing around the altar dancing about the dais a black stallion stud nervous skittish before the coupling pacing back and forth back and forth that little black mic connected to his shiny black robes his gravely voice baritoning out from beneath slicked grey hair feathery eyebrows scraggly nose hairs his blue black stripe tie atop a starched white collar showing beneath the robe brotherman making that artful transition from the slight mention of the dead that he does not know that he could not know that he would never ever know

to dire warnings of hellfire brimstone treacle and mistrust

a sermon of grand southern baptist tradition

granddaddy he sitting in the back row near the aisle at the door like he always do like he always has back there next to deputy sheriff faircloth who pops out his big pocket knife slides the blade beneath his finger nails cleans out the grime he might have forgot that morning that might have built up while mowing the lawn raking up the grass tilling the garden

always something to do on a saturday afternoon

granddaddy he sitting in the back row near the aisle at the door like he always do like he always has his chin down all reverent down in his chest eyes closed til they're open til they're needed

to lead him home

he ain't got nothing against jesus he just ain't got much to say to him hell granddaddy he ain't ever had much to say to anyone don't you know granddaddy he stare out the open church window sees two crows up in the tall maple two crows fucking cawing loudly goddamned what a glorious morning

brotherman what you got to say
two crows fucking
brotherman it's a glorious day
let's get lucky

granddaddy he stands up slides past the sheriff puts on his hat as he slips out the door he is not lot's wife he looks not over his shoulders just meanders on out in his shuffling way

jesus kneeling at the church door watching granddaddy wander off though the woods his boots blundering across crushing crunching the dried oak maple leaf carpet stopping every now and then to gaze up into the canopy above look for the crows perhaps take a deep breath exhale slowly in a bit of a yawn meander on toward the lake and slip into his old skiff the little two stroke motor idling low puttering off into the mist dropping in a drag line

a ripplous wake

lapping the red clay and sand beach brotherman spews earthly venom no devil dare dance in his church god's church built of sweat and angst and tears and worry and vigilance god is to be feared god is waiting for that day of reckoning where he will return through his only son our lord smite down the wicked the infidels the heathens

god grant us the strength

to withstand the devil

granddaddy whistling there ain't no devil just god when he's drunk

aw the moon

the night before double trouble boil and bubble the fungal fruits of farmer fred's elsie cow droppings our boots kicking shit up and over leaning over hands on hips eyeballing the form studying the slight sine of the curve of the cap reaching down thumping the hood leaving behind spores for others for future generations plucking it gingerly shaking it sweetly giving any holdouts one last chance to escape carry it aloft presenting it up to the fading afternoon early evening light checking for love for art and science for that tell tale purple ring around the upturned edges secrets passed down from brother to brother cousin to cousin

spore to shroom to spore to shroom

circle of life aub zam zam may this circle be unbroken by and by lord by and by put your left foot in take your left foot out do the hokey pokey turn yourself around that's what it's all about eenie meenie minie moe catch a nigger by his toe we are all precious in his sight

the princess
spins the straw
into gold
the alchemist
bends god's law
sells his soul

boils down the love to opaque purples and blues a mystical seminole silhouette sliding escaping into the swamp

hounds baying
mules braying
soldiers preying

pours it into the crystal chalice of the day a mason jar empty of yesterday's fig preserves holds it up to the fifty watt bulb hanging from the cord dropped down from the ceiling a hangman's incandescent noose

the elixir's impermeable dullness the light's somber presence suggestive the shaman nods we are good we are ready we are to be joined as one

come let us pray

let us share good drink good food good times we sip of the kool aid we smile we wait we count down from ten we vomit willingly into the wooden bowl as it's passed around let us be men swing our dicks wildly divining rods of celestial love hunting hunting searching while running through the woods down the ravine down the creek leading to the lake the trees leaning over beating us mercilessly with their branches one thousand nine hundred ten lashes for the date of his birth one thousand nine hundred ninety for his death

eighty seven thousand or so for the slices of bacon eaten during his lifetime

brotherman where do we go from here
life so short
brotherman go fetch me my spear
fishing's no sport

we stand beside the almost still water that laps at our feet that tickles our toes we bleed we do we just hang up here in the sky in the southwest georgia darkness full and bright a portal into other worlds look deep look long spin spin within its circle of light draped round the cove of our toes little fishies begging fins flowing outstretched and twisting heads back mouths open tongues extended reaching oh they reach waiting wanting god willing god will provide we provide the rosy sugar it drips it drops onto into their waiting mouths sprinkles of darkness glowing black cloying beads of lust confused with love confused with simple being with

granddaddy puttering by in his little skiff beneath the moon it just hangs there he don't wave granddaddy he don't wave he acknowledges us with a glance and a nod

and ain't that what we all we want ain't that what we all need bless our presence on this green earth acknowledge our existence it's hard enough out there wandering around the woods crashing down through the ravines getting all muddy and scraped up

granddaddy he putters on by and all that

Meat and Beat

throckmorton he says leaning over to grab the cards scattered about the table it’s his deck to make throckmorton says he says now if we begin if we all begin to judge too harshly then hell pretty soon nobody gets to come nobody gets to play

panama jack he says getting up from his chair slapping his cards to the table face down getting up slapping his cards to the table walking over to pour himself a short scotch panama jack he says i hate these goddamn motherfucking middle cards the fucking game is high low it ain’t who has the best motherfucking middle cards

sitting on the bus earlier in the day sitting on the muni bus the number five fulton heading toward downtown eye’m sitting on one of those hard plastic seats with one of my all time best friends in the whole wide world who eye just met thirty forty five seconds earlier little old filipino woman sitting on the inside part of the bench against the window old wrinkled saks bag sitting on her lap don’t think the insides of that bag came from saks she nibbles on a lumpia wrapped in aluminum foil whiffs of steam sliding to her nostrils the slight whiffs of cabbage sliding to mine

a couple sits across the aisle young couple sits across the aisle one row up young man young woman twenty something he against the window she on the aisle she leans toward him he leans toward the window eye think he wishes he could jump out she says to him no doubt that it’s to him she says to him the only reason i’m here the only reason i’m in this town this place this city by the bay the only reason i’m here is

you

you’re the only thing holding me here without you i’d go home it’s just easier there easy like sunday morning that’s why i’m easy eye’m thinking lumpia going to my brain smoking a big phat lumpia eye’m thinking yeah she’s easy eye’m looking for easy shit eye’m just looking for a little fucking

peace in the valley

there will be peace in the valley for me some day there will be peace in the valley for me oh lord i pray she be so mean eye know eye know eye be so bad eye be a bad bad man but she be so mean she can’t help herself she got to hurt me she got to take that shard of glass slide it across my throat she can’t help herself she just got to she got to hurt me then eye got to hurt her then she got to hurt me pretty soon we she her eye me we don’t even fucking know why when where all we know all we got left all we know to do is fuck each other up lemme lemme fuck you up lemme lemme fuck you up she leans into him on the muni bus

she leans in

she puts her finger to his chest she says my whole life my entire life my whole life

fuck

on the elevator in one of the kaiser medical buildings on divisadero she cries eye don’t know why she cries she stands on the other side of the elevator eye stay on my side eye don’t even know how we decided who owned what side but somehow we had worked all that out she stands in the back of the elevator on her side tears drift lazily down her cheeks two salty trails one broad super highway the other a single path foot trail along the edge of the canyon eye want to ask her eye want to say

hey what’s wrong

but eye don’t and eye wonder why eye feel like letting my freak flag fly eye feel like eye owe it to

someone

hey what’s wrong eye get off on three she goes on up maybe all the way to heaven line broke monkey got choked they went to heaven on a little row boat eye got off on three stand in line hand them my card is this what it feels like in russia ten dollars she doesn’t look up she looks only at the computer the glow from the screen illuminates her face she takes my card takes my ten dollars doesn’t look up touches my hand says ooooh says ooooh your hand so cold eye say it’s a bit chilly out she says why don’t you wear gloves

eye have no answer to that

eye shrug she points to the waiting room eye go and wait seems eye do that oh so well last night eye sat at the table eye sat eye waited don’t you know the good cards they just kept showing up three queens won me a lot of money on two different occasions the sandman he said something witty he nudged me he said don’t forget to include you know i represent eye said yeah no problem he said write it down write it down in that little moleskine you got in your back pocket eye said baby eye got it eye got it eye got it hey man eye’m sorry

eye forgot it

eye’m going to use the too stoned defense eye mean eye mean hell it’s half your fault how many times did you say did you utter the words how many times did you say let’s smoke more weed and guiseppe hell he kept stuffing that bowl with hashish

third floor leave her behind in the elevator she’s going up going going up eye’m getting my eyeballs examined need to have my head examined fuck eye need to check in eye need to head up to napa put on one of those cute little pair of pee jays shuffle down the hallway drool cup half full half empty who the fuck knows need to have my head examined check into the cuckoos nest

she says she says oh baby you don’t need napa you just need a little whispering pines eye didn’t know eye only thought this only happened in fairy tales then eye saw her face now eye’m a believer eye scream she scream we all scream for ice cream both at the same time

parking lot love the squeal of tires in the parking lot don’t let the door hit you where the good lord split you

she leans in she puts her finger to his chest she says my whole life my entire life my whole life

fuck

that’s a lot of responsibility that’s almost a burden

later in the afternoon climb the mountain in marin cross that golden gate drive up the one oh one left into san anselmo climb that hill scenic road they pull no punches in marin they leave nothing to chance in marin tell you like it is in marin eye’m fretting we’re hunting another doctor trying to find that one trying to find that magic key

can this marriage be saved

eye’m fretting new doctor marin county worse san anselmo they are so unconnected in san anselmo maybe they smoke too much weed maybe they indulge themselves with too many crystals too much granoloa ask me it’s too much windham hill motherfuckers fucked up the world worse than the two bushes together windham hill and tantric sex like peanut butter and jelly eye’m fretting new doctor in marin eye’m thinking therapy thoughts fearful therapy thoughts oh please lord don’t be a crystal worshiping mantra humming earth goddess

we climb this mountain doc marcie greets us at the door with her dog java fuck eye’m in trouble can this marriage be saved why should it be of course it should be it’s a sacred institution marriage fuck all eye want to do eye want to move to a cave in joshua tree roll the boulder in front third day eye’ll arise from the dead ascend into my baby’s arms stepping out with my baby can’t be so bad when it feels so good doc marcie she greets us at the door eye’m shaking in my boots okay my nikes doc marcie she must’ve thrown them crystals up the chimney she kicks our ass drills us with a diamond tipped bit ain’t no local ain’t no general ain’t no corporal she has us both crying

it’s hard work

don’t have to be mean work don’t have to be mean don’t have to be mean you hurt me eye hurt you tit tat frick frack bada bing bada bang she screams eye scream we both scream same time never happened before it can be easy there can be peace in the valley

that’s a lot of responsibility that’s almost a burden

cards on a friday night home is where the heart is

throckmorton he says leaning over to grab the cards scattered about the table it’s his deck to make throckmorton says he says now if we begin if we all begin to judge too harshly then hell pretty soon nobody gets to come nobody gets to play

panama jack he says getting up from his chair slapping his cards to the table face down getting up slapping his cards to the table walking over to pour himself a short scotch panama jack he says i hate these goddamn motherfucking middle cards the fucking game is high low it ain’t who has the best motherfucking middle cards

it’s hard work peace in the valley meat and beat and all that

Yeah Well

they killed saddam and eye don’t give a shit

they fucking put a rope around his neck wild fucking west put him on a horse tied his hands behind his back slapped that horse right on the ass no wait hang on yeah they threw a rope around a big old magnolia limb hauled his brown ass up by the throat tarred the evil cocksucker caught him on fire burn sand nigger burn watched him dangle shake shiver no wait hang on yeah they tied his hands behind his back tied big old long rope around his feet the other end to the bumper one of them toyota four by fours haul ass across the scrub slung his scrawny ass sliding atop natural sandpaper shredding skin to meat no wait hang on ah fuck eye don’t care eye don’t give a flying fuck

they fucking put a rope around his neck wild fucking west eye think they talked about his momma eye think they talked about his wife his kids eye think they talked about his flaccid dick eye think they talked about the flatulent fearful smell drifting from his pants eye think they spit on him taunted him told him he was going to hell he was an evil evil man he was going to hell what the fuck what the hell what the fuck were we thinking

they killed saddam and eye don’t give a fuck

we sent our army all the way over across the water hey these boys are special not only are they you ess soldiers they are volunteers they love their country so much they went down to the local recruiting station army navy air force marine coast fucking guard whatever they went down on their own signed that piece of paper put on the uniform picked up a gun they be fucking special

eye mean they could have just as easily went over to the local wall mart got themselves a good job yeah no benefits yeah can’t afford to pay rent eat drive this bomb that detroit sells sucks gas like my eleventh grade girlfriend deep and nonstop yeah ain’t no future after the christmas return season anyway eye mean they could have just as easily stayed at home got themselves a good job at wall mart nope not our boys not our boys in green tan whatever the fuck they wear

they be so down with cammo bay bee

nope not our boys they didn’t just settle for the good job no baby these boys these you ess army navy airforce marines coast fucking guard they went to eye rack under their own

voe lishun

ain’t that a beautiful thing ain’t life a lovely thing ain’t it ain’it me and my man pete and my man vee and my man jay cee and my man alpo and my man bondage and my man guido and my new man dug and his brother the hipster bondage he looked at the hipster an older hipster at that been a hipster all his life eye bet eye imagine even wore the fucking prerequisite black turtleneck black beret fucking frog hipster bondage he looked at hipster he said so when you go to your hipster party i want you to do me a favor i want you to find something out for me i want you to ask poll maybe is the better verb infinitive form mister hipster can you ask your other hipster friends playing in all their hipster games can you ask them

what is hip

and get back to me with the answer i am really rather curious of course the obvious follow up question just has to be stands to reason you must also ask them

what is not hip

i am just so curious thanks bondage yeah he just wanted to know innocent quest don’t you know five or six bourbons into the evening specs don’t you know specs in the alley it’s a drinking bar not much of a pick up bar not much of a cocktail lounge no specs yeah it’s just a plain old drinking bar it ain’t like johnson’s barbecue down off bayview you know where the sign just says

don’t need no teeth to eat my meat

it an’t like johnsons maybe belongs in the same genus or something genetically similar spec’s it’s just a plain old drinking bar hadn’t been there in a while my man pete he says the other day we got to go out during the holidays you know just kind of blow one out eye say yeah they fucking hung the guy

they went and sent our boys girls in uniform all the over to coo wait bunches and bunches of ‘em put ‘em on ships put ‘em in tanks put ‘em in hummers put ‘em in jeeps and donkey carts and little red wagons and big wheels someone said go they bombed the shit out of everything our boys girls in uniforms they stormed all over creation went into bagged dad fucked ‘em up good ran their president into a hole dragged him out of the hole took pictures of him looking like he’d been in a hole put him in a jail cell put a rope round his neck hung his evil self

goddamn eye feel the righteous glow of justice goddamn it feel good and well just plain old

righteous

only way to describe it guido got hit by a cab not the other night the other night he didn’t get hit by a cab but about a year or so ago guido got hit by a cab threw him up and over and onto an examiner newspaper box he guido he had been drinking with jay cee at specs in the alley funny because eye’m hearing this story for the first time ever me jay cee vee pete we’re out in the alley smoking hand rolled cigarettes

bally shag baby

jay cee telling the story he’s three four pints of anchor steam into the night jay cee he says one moment we’re sitting at the bar having a pint the next i look up and gueeds is gone i walk up the sidewalk looking for him all i see is blood all over this examiner box but i don’t see no guido i don’t see no ambulance i don’t see no policemen nothing i see guido the next morning at the club going for a swim notice a big old lump coming out of guido’s speedo i say guido what the fuck

we fucking went over to another country we dragged their president into the streets and we killed him that’s what we did goddamn eye feel righteous eye feel so righteous eye just got to

howl

i saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness starving hysterical naked dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn looking for an angry fix

doctor at the club she come over she sees the lump in the speedo she just yanks them down guido has a fucking tampon sticking out of a huge fucking wound on his callipygian cleft she says where the fuck you going guido he says i’m fucking going swimming she says not like that had him bend over the bar she sewed his ass up right then and there guido got his swim in turns out guido fell on that examiner box

right on the corner

punctured a fucking hole in his butt cheek bled like a stuck pig all over the place he hopped onto bart went home to walnut fucking creek looked into his medicine cabinet only thing he could find were a couple of tampons an old girlfriend had left behind he plugged up the hole went to bed simple as that guido he’s standing there with us in the alley by now he says hey

didn’t have health insurance

what the fuck i’m gonna do what the fuck we all gonna do we went fucking sent our boys in green over to eye rack said fuck ‘em up good while you’re at it grab that fucking saddam let’s hang the cocksucker let’s drive right up kill ‘em all fucking sand niggers

jay cee bondage they each got divorce separation stories jay cee he says don’t go in front of a judge they’re all fucking lesbians bondage he says aw man it’s fucked up i haven’t had sex in six years me eye nodded eye tried to tell them eye ain’t married to their crazy wives eye may have my own crazy wife but she ain’t anywhere near as crazy as their crazy wives eye mean eye’m still crazy about my crazy wife they fucking hate their crazy wives that’s for one thing the other thing they’re both kind of crazy themselves eye mean look at ‘em what the fuck’s up with that them giving advice fuck

eye love them anyway hell eye might even have sex with jay cee he’s kind of cute might even give him a reach around while eye’m fucking him in the ass hell eye love them anyway they only tell me shit because they love me and because

they got crazy wives

eye just drank more port cheap fucking port the kind of port where you wake up the next morning feeling like you been licking thousands of stinky smelly portoguese feet all through the night eye smoked a cigarette and a bowl for every glass of port eye drank eye wonder if they let saddam have a joint a drink a cigarette before they put a fucking rope around his neck hung his brown aa rabbit ass eye mean hell

saddam he was an evil man

gassed all them people killed all them people fucked them up ends justifies the means saddam he was an evil man we had to kill him even if we had to kill six hundred thousand poor unfortunate cocksuckers to get to him

goddamn eye do indeed feel righteous

some drunk walked up to us lit a joint said he was the god son of key kesey wrote a screenplay for a movie kesey was going to star in the movie eye asked eye said so isn’t kesey dead the drunk eye guess he’s about my age the drunk he says yeah that’s why we can’t make the movie now young dude decked out in cal ware hat jersey wristbands cal bears go he runs up stumbles up really ducks behind us looks over pete’s shoulder pete he goes so young dude you running from the police young dude he says

no man just my cabbie

didn’t want to pay my fare only had enough money to either buy a couple of beers or pay my cab fare eye elected to give my money to specs we all nodded and murmured approval of a very wise decision made by someone so young twas truly a miraculous thing eye gave him my tobacco pouch he wanted to roll a cigarette said dude i’m so good at rolling these things he fucked up the first four until eye took it back rolled him one lit it for him

pete and eye left walked down through china town after midnight place was kind of deserted the sidewalks empty only hours earlier they had been teeming with people animals in cages dead fish pig parts vegetables and lots of cheap expensive jade jewelry twelve year old girls all of whom had had visits from the foot binder we walked down through the stockton tunnel up onto union square sat beneath the big christmas tree gazed at the all the store lights macy’s saks the saint francis nike levi’s coach eye’ll take one of each we sat on a bench rolled a cigarette smoked a couple of bowls talked about nothing talked about shit

we didn’t talk about saddam at all we didn’t say one fucking word about saddam we didn’t give a shit about saddam we didn’t give a fuck about saddam

saddam was an evil man eye don’t give a shit

president bush george dubya bush he mourned the death of the three thousandth you ess soldier in eye rack the white house said on sunday but cautioned war weary americans that no quick end was in sight to the fight against terrorism

saddam was an evil man and eye don’t give a shit

the president believes that every life is precious and grieves for each one that is lost said white house spokesman scott stanzel he will ensure their sacrifice was not made in vain by the way eye looked it up in vain in the american heritage dictionary eye looked up in vain it means

without success

our boys their sacrifice was not made without success saddam was an evil man and eye don’t give a shit eye don’t give a fuck me and pete we walked up geary street up through the upper edge of the tenderloin walked past the pine crest restaurant serves up a mean bacon and eggs walked past the clift hotel got rooms made for fine fucking walked past some dive bars walked past some people sitting up against the building walls walked past a couple of crack hookers walked past corner store selling cigars eye caught a cab at van ness driven by the crazy african fucker he didn’t drive in vain pete he walked home through the castro he’s tough that way built for endurance me eye was drunk

cheap port bally shag evil surrounds us happy new year and all that