hi cellar dwellar,


how goes it in there? cozy, warm and dark huh?

is it too early to brighten the coroners, or are you still the dimmest bulb available?  we work with what we are handed, gotcha, this shouldn't take long: thermometer, needles, civility, invisibility, doctors' rounds, your love light shining down on  bedpan/me.

it's my turn now.

do i turn the torch on you,

or on what would, in a perfect world,

outrank you as biggest and scariest con game in my life:

the diagnostic and statistical manual of psychiatric disorders?  there it is, power corruption and lies, littering the empty landscape with all its venal entrepeur-urinal rugrats, littering the internet and cemetaries, souls, minds, un-lived lives...

labels, yo, labels;


 pop-up targets whose passive victims are long out of pea-shooters, which unlike you can be easily remedied.  this is not a bad thing. meanwhile, how blue can you get? the answer is right here in my hands. you, putty, the dsm.

we'll come back to this.


guess 'til then best way of uncallin you out is to not drop by your place of employment all clingy, bibble-babble, mere rubble, mere slip of the girl i was last time we stared blankly at each other, my newly truly haggard face hidden beneath big black straw hat, cry cry cry speak in proverbs then, as i recall, you treat me like shit, realizing only post-gossip that i am the one

(at least) you wrote 4 marriage proposals-on-chocolate-bar-wrappers-to, upon reading one of the worst possible

poems ever published in the austin comical so gosh,

now, so what do we do now? good thing i'm not so childish as to start naming names, huh?

are you unconscionable?

please, i can use that, ha ha

laugh laugh laugh join hands like a true

get over it.

i even forgive you for bein yella chicken closet crazies,

here's why:

oblique references, song lyrics, clues, obscurantism, alla sudden

i have your attention, or fear, or something bordering on awe, wow cool, now whose idea was that, yours or mine?

torch it.

see, one of the benefits of being insane: no rigid, middle class,


hang-ups to inhibit allure of risk-taking with people who don't matter shit to you one way or another.





















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