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.