I don’t like seeing the same people’s names all the time, but then again I don’t like to see a whole roster of unfamiliar names, either.
And on another of JD’s themes… I don’t think “juiced in it” is a terrible rhyme at all, if only because it’s so memorable.
What the world needs now is exactly more of that sort of speechlike almost logorrheic polysyllabic liberty-taking.
Jordan didn’t include me on his hypothetical burgeoning irony panel. It should come as no surprise, because I often get left out of things. I won’t say “always” because that’s not true. I suppose everyone feels this way.
But I’ve never been asked to be on a panel. And I’ve never been asked to teach at Naropa. I would really like that.
When people write “that way”, do they truly feel inflammed with the conviction that they are “doing good”?
We are all “to the manner born.” It’s too bad, really, but I say, since we’ve got to have it, let’s shake it all about.
11
Twenty-eight stress puppies bathe by the digital kudzu,
Twenty-eight stress puppies and all so Fucked up, Insecure, Neurotic, and Emotional;
Twenty-eight years of womanly life and all so drumpy.
She owns the fine cube farm by the rise of the market, aw yeah
She hides handsome and richly cometized aft the blinds of the cobweb site.
Which of the puppies does she like the best?
Ah the most generic of them is beautiful to her.
Where are you off to, lady? for I see you,
You splash in the water there, yet stay stock still in your room.
Dancing and laughing along the graybar land came the twenty-ninth
idea hamster,
The rest did not see her, but she saw them and loved them.
The beards of the young men glisten’d with keyboard plaque, it ran from their
long hair,
Little streams egosurf’d all over their bodies.
An unseen error message also pass’d over their bodies,
It descended tremblingly from their contracts and zones.
The young men float on their irritainment, their white bellies bulge to the
40-hour week, they do not ask who seizes fast to them,
They do not know who prairie dogs with co-dependent and bent-up
arch,
They do not think whom they glaze with percussive maintenance.
12
The naturalistic fallacy puts off his ostensive definition, or sharpens his idiom
at the locus of control,
I loiter enjoying his ontology and his slippage and bricolage.
Unique outcomes with grimed and hairy utterances environ the dominant discourse,
Each has his face-validity, they are all out, there is a great heat in
the chimpanzoid erasure.
From the cinder-strew’d finitism I follow their appreciative enquiry,
The lithe sheer of their felt sense plays even with their massive agonistics,
Overhand the atomic propositions swing, overhand so slow, overhand so sure,
They do not hasten, each man hits in his cogito.
13
The prana holds firmly the holistic aura of his four vibes, the Bermuda triangle massages
underneath on its out-of-body paradigm shift,
The guru that drives the long psychic energy of the crystals, steady and
tall he stands pois’d on one om on the tofu,
His blue unity exposes his whole earth and void and loosens over
his aura,
His vitamin power is calm and holistic, he tosses the granola of his ESP
away from his LSD,
The sun falls on his crispy astrology and mandala, falls on the karma of
his polish’d and perfect spirituality.
I behold the weight loss and detox and love him, and I do not stop
there,
I go with the reiki and holosync also.
In me the caresser of Tibetan rites wherever moving, backward as well as
forward sluing,
To moon lodge rites and magnetic products bending, not a person or object missing,
Absorbing all to my third eye and for this self-healing tape.
Bee products that rattle the wellness and tai chi or halt in the leafy higher awareness, what
is it that you express in your intuitive readings?
It seems to me more than all the abundance tools I have read in my life.
My prosperity invitation scares the angel art and willard-water on my distant and
day-long soulquest,
They levitate together, they slowly circle around the ectoplasm.
I believe in those wing’d juicers and astral bodies,
And acknowledge colostrum, human growth hormone, and coral calcium, playing within me,
And consider green and violet and the tufted seasilver intentional,
And do not call the paranormal abnormal because she is not something
else,
And the in the woods never studied the ambient seascapes, yet trills pretty mantras
to me,
And the look of satori shames silliness out of me.
Today’s Spam, Lineated but not Manipulated. I Kid You Not. Is this Paradise?
Now and then,
near conspiracy honor upon rex over.
Furthermore, from russula, and of playoff
fall in love with related to.
I from thread toward, or behind assimilate
around. Any sky can of, but it takes
a real foulmouth to nearest antimony over.
Most people believe that related to learn a lesson
from verge, but they need to remember how godwin.
Go near gets drunk, and about we’ll starts jejune
about lost glory; however, beyond give lectures
on morality to from.
Now and then, of operate a small fruit stand
with posture around. When around uproot
returns home, inside sweeps the floor.
Together living with is invariant.
Ululations was born in this room:
Today is also:
Assembly Line Workers’ Day
Dress up Your Pet Day
Make Your Dreams Come True Day
BIRTHDAY QUANDARY
Tomorrow’s my fortieth birhday, and aside from getting Gary to buy me stuff, I have no plans. What should I do? Any ideas?
I’ve never been forty before. I can hardly spell the word “forty.” It seems very odd.
