fun with booze and writing

stream of conciousness shit.... can't make much sense of it. At the time though, I thought it was brilliant. oy gevalt.

Here come the pretty people watch them clip clop along concrete pathways speckled with spit and broken feathers. Watch wounds split open again over timid fires slipping out of hopefull mouths- Mouths too dry to float an idea in, but here try this martini olive. I'm watching a woman drink a tall glass of anxiety- she orders off the middle shelf, likes to look at herself, she's drinking Maker's Mark, she'd like to make her mark someday, maybe after a few drinks she'll do it. He's outside waiting for me, but I'm looking for the poem that runs so hard it just can't even breathe. I've never won a game of softball but you should see me in a Spelling Bee. Our eyes follow the same line but do you see what I see? Well, Boo Hoo Kermit, you think it's easy being mean? Tell that asshole he can muster all his hate, pile it on my plate and I'll only smile and say: "No thanks. I already ate" He's still out there waiting why doesn't he go away. Sure I seem all silk from underthings to eyebrows, but sometimes... it's like my heart ain't red and my pupils ain't black, it's more like the other way around. You've been pushing my buttons, but guess what? I drained it. You think you've got my number but I called Quest up and changed it. You wanted a Meg Ryan for this role but I have Jessica Lange-ed it. Listen, when I'm dead and gone you can come along and
piss on the coffin
they carry me off in
but honey, I won't be listening.