We’re all in trouble. But our favorite song is always on the radio. At least that’s how it feels to be in love. Nobody bothers to learn the piano like they used to, but then again, the piano hasn’t been the same in a long long time. We all get money thrown at us as fast as they can throw money at us, a lot of it catches in the breeze and is blown off, way behind our shoulders and the ideas we had of our lives.

There are neon signs every-where and they point right to where I’m sitting. In the middle of the night a dream can either smoke cigarettes by the widow and look out at the lit up face of the bridge, or the dream can have its own dreams. There is always freedom like that. The TVs are usually unplugged, the mail arrives but its not always your own mail. You open it anyway, curious and looking for birthday card money from however can spare it. Nobody minds because they all get your birthday card money. Things even out. They have to.

Everybody has a car, and every car is powered by dinosaur blood and old rotten jungles that have been compressed by mountains and heat and time. America never had dinosaurs or jungles, it didn’t have anything, until we found it. A blank check, pal. So that’s why we get our oil from places like Africa and the Middle East. Not as many people are very worried, as opposed to say; yesterday. There is a calm faith in explosions happening elsewhere, perpetually.

From time to time we pick up the telephone and we talk to old lovers about Mickey Mouse and Marilyn Monroe. We dress in cowboy outfits and sometimes blue jeans and stand shirtless in the streets, all of us thinking we are young Marlon Brandos, or misplaced Bridget Bardots. We fill our mouths up with hamburger and whiskey and we swallow. We don’t go to the prize fights anymore. Our lives are prize fights. we walk around with roses in our teeth and we laugh at anyone who tries to take the roses from our teeth. Those roses are the roses for our true love.Not everybody gets a true love, the roses are always dying and being pressed in books, hung upside down near windows facing brick walls. Sometimes a John Wayne and a Grace Kelly meet in the center of the flashing neon and the John Wayne gives the Grace Kelly the rose from between his teeth and the Grace Kelly holds it, blushing. Nobody is a prince, nobody is a princess but we sure like getting loaded and ignoring the waiting list, walking right to the front only to find its the middle. That everybody on a Saturday night has the same idea.Our bodies are never empty. Our hands are always full. We often sit on the edge of mortar walls watching the sunsets that are always more beautiful than the day before. Our toxic waste is dripped into the sky, to ensure we will always have a sunset beautiful enough for the next class of anxiously expectant child dreamers. Our beds are soft, but we often sleep on the couch, we’re hard to get along with. We have a requirement that our lives be required by everyone more than ourselves.

There’s a lot to laugh at. Sometimes we just sit around laughing. Friends pour us drinks. We pour drinks for them too. Everybody is euphoric on pay day. Pay day is quite often. We go to the horse track and we let it ride on GLUE FACTORY. And Jesus, GLUE FACTORY takes it on the inside turn every time. If we look up at the clouds we can see whatever we want in the clouds, sometimes we even see advertisements for things to enhance our lives, so we go and buy those things. And then the clouds say, GOOD FOR YOU!

It’s easy. Sometimes you’ll drop a beer bottle and it will break on the floor. But it won’t matter for anything, all you have to do is let the dog lick the beer up, they’re hard wood floors and they are treated, sealed, they will last five generations without having to be refurbished.And it doesn’t matter, cause the broken glass can’t get into your heel, it can stay there.

We wear our shoes in our houses. We don’t stoop so low in our culture to leave our shoes at the door. We wear our shoes to bed. If we want to really turn each other on, we wear our shoes to bed, and there is always enough beer to break on the floor, care free. And she always has sexy shoes to wear to bed and high heels and she always has full breasts and long dark hair and her eyes are a dark million miles and the promise of my life is the promise that I will get lost in those eyes for all that they are worth.

The famous are random, they come down from their mountains on Christmas with packages pulled by teams of mules. We walk to town square, overwhelmed in a blizzard of flash bulbs and speech givers. Our president is no king and we never love him till he is out of office. But when something is over it gains some love in its retreat, not because it was worth anything particularly, just because it’s over.

Sometimes there’s a sun shower and it is so beautifucked that we stand around in the rain, looking at the sun, though our Mother told us never to stare at the sun. The famous stand around in the sun showers with us, by satellite hook up connection and we all pretend that we understand each other.

We’re all scared of the kids, any second now one of them is gonna show up with a rifle. We’re scared of each other. We don’t want to let anybody down. We want our funerals to be jammed packed. It turns us on when we meet a stranger on the road and upon introductions, they say, I’ve heard all about you. Say that again please.

Say it slowly. I think I’m in love.

I’ve heard all about you.

We’re all doused with gasoline and perfume and shout out loud gin. We wait at the graves of our dead waiting for another vision. The visions never come. So we invent them. We drive our Chevys and our Fords up to the top of Mount Washington and then we put stickers on the Chevys and Fords that say THIS VEHICLE CLIMBED MOUNT WASHINGTON. We tell stories about the good ol’ days, quite aware that nostalgia is the fastest way to be among the living dead. We all want the end of the world to happen soon. We all want a chance to ride a pale horse across the river Styx. We all want a face to appear to us in a dream and insist that we invest our savings in a certain stock.

We all want stock tips from beyond the grave.

Nobody ever runs out of ice when Rock and Roll is the surest national lullaby.

Sometimes our hands get so soft and pink that we want to go and get temporary employment at a lumberyard, we hear that women with big legs like men with strong hands. We feel slightly ashamed that our hands are so soft and pink and that our women are stick figures without bawdy legs.

My girl has an ass that I bounce quarters off of.  She has tits that knock things off of the shelves when she turns to face me.

She has the kind of mind that makes me forsake all dimness.

She is a genius, her legs are genius, her ass is genius, she came from out of nowhere. She is America. No such thing as a moonless night. every night in America has a full moon, all our lives are plays written by Tennessee Williams in the afterlife. Nobody is afraid of God, because we are all sure that we are God. Each of us understands that the lives we lead, we lead them into the dark water like thirsty horses seeking

escape.I escape into her because she is America.


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