Drastic conditions aside. Things get drafted up, changed, and chock-full of worry. We want for everything at all times. Never brief enough. Take Nixon bowling. Remain in constant revolution over everything. It’s never too late for it to be soon enough.

“See me in a jiffy for a list of reasons not to do whatever you want all the damn time.”

“Well, I’ll be Bill Bojangles Robinson.”

People who say, “warsh.” Step softer than you speak. The carcass of joy’s been taken out with the trash. Grades given. See my D- and raise it a notch or two, but not so much so that it’s unbelievable. My parents warmed my bottle on a hotplate when I was young. A one-room walk-up on 32nd Street. Reporters at the door all the time. They didn’t have any answers about me.

Strong men also cried. It could have been better, but it wasn’t. Then the action farewelled the story. Criminal men on an ugly hill. The ugliest channel you’ll ever see in your life. Nobody likes it. Petroleum distillates fill the sky. Jackie Treehorn was an asshole. The play within the play. Shut the fuck up, Donny. Who are we except what’s been done to us? Find out at (646) 851–0347.

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