We take with us all matter of things, insomuch as it stands to be ever an incher of pincher cinchers, where schnitzel bricks spend all-day expeditions of exquisite daydream clamfaces–by the cola machine is where our lord takes his things. Bitter nut jobs make extraordinary leaps through our galaxy, but never when you have an economy rooted in capitalism, that dollar ever-chained to something way older than our collective responsibilities and squared up to a door we must have forgotten like a stamp mailed on a letter to the dentist some Tuesday back in December when the weather was much nicer but the days were much shorter and you sure as hell don’t miss that one bit, as goddamn cold as it may be right now, god dammit. I really wish I could use my arms.
Tag: Tuesday
My Obsessive Tendencies
Standing here in the rain
is going to be a tough assignment,
especially since it’s a Tuesday.
I don’t know what Tuesday
really has to do with it,
but I know that the sound you make
on a Tuesday morning – over coffee,
not without buttered scones – really
irks me. Typically 8:46am, but
sometimes 9:15. It’s as though
your internal clock were tuned to an
interstellar annoyance-based alarm system,
designed specifically to take advantage
of my obsessive tendencies.
WHARVED 