2016-11-25 - 10:39 p.m.
Rolling around in the bushes out there
is more interesting than this tepid
movie.
What did you say?
Oh it won some academy awards?
For best actor?
For best sound track?
Noise, noise, noise.
And so I drifted to what little is left of the uncontrolled spaces.
Places with weird waves
Where the shore looks strange.
A return to all things feel and the amniotic
umbilical, with a little gambling
thrown in.
Despair not my friend!
These lumps still might turn and
jack up suddenly
without notice and the possibilities
for drowning are endless!
After going through the washing machine
I was pushed down
And then pushed down some more
It was fun, then terrifying, and then exhilarating
and like Wittgenstein, I asked for a first
class ticket to the front lines
just to see if goodnight moon was possible.
I turned from an anarchist
into a raging capitalist
just as Bill the registered
therapist had predicted 15 years ago.
I didn't believe him then, but
time has a way of eroding principles.
Or at least
that was what I was expecting
from inchoate states
Back when I had a voice
And would yell
And draw firm lines in the punk music.
But alas, I can still elate and emote in the minimal
left in the
unpredictable.
Or in the residual
non-claimed spaces
where a lack of prediction
contains such delightful possibilities.
I was an exceptionally stupid computer
and an even worse animal.
But because I can still breathe
I will make NOise, Noise, NOISE!
