We’ve developed an eye for the
WRITING breathing. And it should take
time for it to be FUNEREAL. I just turned on
just turned on my manservant and OURSELVES
say “I think I’ll have Masto today” whatever
that is. OVERWHELMING dream about that guy
that guy with ISSUES. I haven’t really been been
consisting a lot THINKING about last night’s Fatt Dogg.
It was ok CARING. Kind of NUMBER ONE hard to eat
and messy. Long dogs. Short buns. MYSELF. And good
relish. I dreamed about about CAN’T I EVOLVE this guy.
He was bawling, terribly upset because he’d just been
dumped across the Mass Ave. I wanted to take a LONG
trip to find some some STUN some enclosure of a
couple of STUN poems. Funky flat screen TV over the
condiment stand self-absorbing pig can’t handle CNN.
