mcmxxxiv

     I wonder whether you’re still
     writing Allen Ginsberg imitations
                                     —Tim Dlugos

For lack of an offbeat ________, today is
Monday, March 18th in the Block Fortress.
I could be updating my purchases into my
new golden laptop (while attempting to

salvage the corrupt brains of its laptop-
daddy [who is currently on life support],
gathering garbage from laptop aunties
and uncles, and dumping it all into less

garbage-looking slagheaps...).... (cf:
this analogy heretofore forbidden) (
okay, wait, they say never say never,
so let’s not promise the kibosh, but

instead throw up) for your entertain-
ment, a few tidbits from last night.
A sort of juggling act (which I will
now misspell cat) involving well

over twenty-four hours of time
travel. In which I park the car
(a lot) and roll over onto my
back for a massage (which I

now misspell message). And
unlike unliking, this never
grows tedious or tiresome.
There should probably be

three t’s for redundancy
but I’ll now turn the
podium into a chaise
longue. Which isn’t

yoga, per se, but in-
volves a provocat-
ively dissonant
hum.