As I think about returning once again to my life as a student I find an old journal at my folks place. It was slotted in between "On War" and "Rhetorical Criticism".
I flip to a page dated Tue Nov 9 02. It reads:
I have dumped and filled the ashtray -again.
I ate Mr. Noodle twice today
and it was a nice change from macaroni.
Sex Life? One time I caught this fish
and it wouldn't stop jumping around in the boat.
I had to hit it again and again
wack, wack, wack, sex life.I'm broke,
my back aches, my stomach still feels empty.
Doing anything but these last two papers is a relief.
No wonder I dream of falling through panes of glass
and of magical birds arising from the ash.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
4 comments:
Well my firey, feathery friend, look at it differently this time. Have something more exciting and nourishing than floundering lust-rage and dangling Mr. noodle. Try the sushi of controled perception. Wrap your catch in the roasted seaweed of sensuality, nestled in the fluffy white rice of hope. Top it with the flying fish roe of ambition and dip it in the rich black soy of mystery mixed the spicy wasabi of possibility. It will make your nose burn and your eyes will water. Maybe that way you can percieve your essays as softening clouds of opportunity instead of helplessly being hurled through the windows of learning.
=)
awesome macro, simply stunning.
No shite.
I like the wack, wack, wack of the sex life. No doubt familiar to many people.
Post a Comment