This is writing that doesn't fit into any particular category. It's not prose and it's not quite poetry. It's not quite sane but it's something healthy. Not all of us have it figured out. I sure as hell don't. It's a series of locutions on madness and locura.

Tuesday, July 13, 2010

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I'll use this paper to wipe the dirt off my brain
I'll use this paper to make these crazy fucking walls sane
I'll use this paper to exorcise and excoriate all who have invited our ire
I'll use this paper before we change our minds and toss it into the fire
I'll use this paper to silence that buzzing hum of bugs
I'll use this paper to extirpate that florescent metal hum.
And then mind, we'll have some silent time.
One on one.
Hand is dead.

(6/17/10 - 12:30 PM - on a nauseous airplane)
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