mrzablowdowski

Relax!
______

Twenty seven pair of black happy feet. It seems I have developed a sockosis.
______

I'm digging a gold mine under the house. If one asks.
The nieghbour asks. "Is that where you hide the bodies?"
Just smile. Laugh my little laugh. She likes to get under my skin.
______

If the moon is made of cheese, what is the man on the moon made of? Ham?
______

Blueberry milkshake in the Dairy Queen parking lot. Downtown, small town, across from the Greyhound station. A few idle thoughts. Sitting. Scratching. Waiting for the drop.
I must be made of guacamole, to explain my strong aversion to the avocado. In the wilderness trapped. Beyond Hope. The last thing to do to survive, take a bite of my frozen left hand. I of course, would be the corpse found not too far from the highway.
Man. It's cold this summer.
______

Hey. Cool wheels Dr. Suzuki.

I fantasize from time to time. Fashion a raft from old lumber and a sheet of plywood. Place a large stone from the garden in the middle. Unload on the beach at Spanish Banks. Set raft ablaze. Set the raft adrift. Watch till the wreck. Watch till the rock tumbles to the cold depth of the Pacific. Geologically diabolical; savagely satisfying.
______

Ripley: "Micro changes in air density, my ass."
______

I need some sort of radio recycler. A box to dump all the drug store flyers and free newspapers, all the matter that don't matter. The stuff I didn't want. And from that matter deconstruct and reconstruct a copy of Harry Potter beamed from Amazon.com. That would be magic.
______

What makes a guitar, rock? Feedback?
______



Holy Cow!