from WRIGHT THE BOOK, F***ER

chapter thirty-three

 

—

i feel the end is near, this tale is winding down; it could go on forever certainly it could i could just keep typing scribbling sketching poeming for the rest of my life, which i know i will, but no one wants to hear all that – no one has time and after all i’m just a guy with too much time on his hands a man a feeler a healer a player of instruments and my best is in this, in worlds of words of whirlwinds of spiteful emotional bursts and ecstatic beamings of the divine… my whole life is here for you to have, well, not the whole, but most.  i cannot begin to comprehend how to end this, this book, this beginning… i am spinning.  it has to end somehow, some way.

—

but how?

with a lesson?

a conclusion?

—

naw…

—

with more UNABATED UNFURLINGS of the self.

—

 

*               *               *

 

—

GJK

22MAR12

12:01 am

(Men.MI)

—

Krabbykott

PR Wars Continue Over Holiday Weekend

by gjk, 7 Sept. 2010; Marquette, MI –—

Local U.P. mining company, Krabbykott, expressed concern over the Labor Day weekend that Bee-Pee, a foreign oil giant, is still monopolizing media coverage of global ecological disasters. A spokesperson for Krabbykott said on Saturday that “our company is doing everything it can to raise our profile from that of ‘an environmental nuisance’ to ‘truly mind-bogglingly-incompetent.’” When asked who Krabbykott considered to be their corporate role-model for such an up-tick in notoriety, the spokesperson responded by saying to this reporter, “Bee-Pee, obviously… those guys really know their way around a U-Toob channel and network news sound-bites, and they sure as shit got one hell-of-a chain of command. Boy, when they screw the pooch they sure go all the way!” (It should be mentioned here that Krabbykott has recently purchased stock in a Bee-Pee subsidiary that specializes in petroleum-based lubricants, whose motto is “GET CORN-HOLED WITH SLIP ‘N’ GLIDE, FOR THE PET LOVER IN YOUR LIFE.”) When prompted, the Krabbykott PR wizard could neither confirm nor deny whether or not corporate policies included such things as corn-holing, or being corn-holed, by ones pets.

Jimbo

　—　

All you wanted was a bag of chips but what you got instead was a

scorcher of a migraine. You made the short walk to the convenience store

on the corner without incident, but on the way back you got accosted by

Jimbo. Again. That drunk prick is a constant source of consternation for

you, what with his propensity for unprovoked confrontation. This is the

fourth time this month that he’s ruined your evening, and you’ve had

enough.

—

This time your mistake was to have the gall to be smoking a cigarette as

you passed by his house, and there he was, drinking on the porch and

drunkenly drawling HEY MAN DO YOU HAVE A SMOKE FOR ME, as if you and he

were friends, or as if you were a vending machine. You are definitely

neither of those things, but in the spirit of the brotherhood of man you

went ahead and said YEAH MAN HERE YOU GO. And that moron Jimbo, that

drunken lout, went ahead and set about the serious business of lighting

the cigarette with the wrong end in his mouth and the filter sputtering

a pathetic flame that stank to high heaven. So you said, as calmly as

you could, YOU’RE LIGHTING THE WRONG END. Jimbo stared, uncomprehending,

and tried again to light the filter. By now your fur was up and all you

wanted to do was either walk away or smash some sense into Jimbo’s

addled brain.  You chose to walk away and you figured you were doing the

right thing, but no, you weren’t. You knew you did the wrong thing when

you heard the word DICK spill from that stupid fucker’s mouth. You gave

him a smoke, you tried to help him out, and this was your reward…

DICK.

—

By the time you got to your own porch the migraine was in full swing. It

is now hours later and still all you can hear clearly amidst your throng

of thoughts is that one derisive syllable. DICK. You don’t know what to

do, so you do nothing. You sit alone in the dark and wait for the echoes

to cease.

—　

　

GJK

22SEP10