Tuesday, February 09, 2016


Pick Your Moaning

This place is a catastrophe!
What   ...    a    ...   dump!

This is what I think
as I spend all day

trapping boobies. 
Look, I trapped five

at home just last night!
That’s a direction, not a

representation.  My
glasses are lying

to you from the top
of my journal.  I’m

sending this (w/apol-
ogies) to you from a

place where all the
Aztecs have laptops,

while I’m finishing
up a gorgonzola salad.

See the butter knife next
to the red notebook just

over there [I’m pointing,
look at me, Dumdum]?

It means I feel like such a
prick every time I accident-

ally pick up one of your
notebooks (the ones w/

illustrations + text in
which toothpicks hold

yr place).  As proof, I cry
and jot down a few notes

about the experience... for
one of my own silly notebooks.