Knock, knock, neighbor

Can you spare me some love?

I’m bound in a salted pinch until a clump of money comes in

It's that green dot atop the horizon yonder that you can spot if you hold your breath and squint

You see?

I just need a cup

She put on a good wig for walking around in, aimless, unshaded, down the road to Benson, she went, from Fort Huachuca

Overhead, the cayenne sun was beating a scorched polyrhythmic mirage, she didn’t bother with her Dollar Tree makeup or the storied-facade that for the world and under duress, (gun-point even) she made up, and she put a whole bag of the stuff on her EBT card

And I teeter now on my years spent but I have shed them all, like thinned-out whisks of hair that, to the tune of my days, time plucked out and that I kicked about for who cares how long? Point is, I am now ready to long-last sweep them out the door and then move away from this bent, seafoam-teal duplex that I now condemn myself, and for much more than it's chipping leaded paint and it's asbestos-laden haze and it's staircase to nowhere

I spent long enough contorting at the cusp of a border that, to appease all but myself, I - with accomplices plenty - simply made up

Years that I would talk myself back from the lofty ledge of taking action, in a cycle of getting high and then shrinking at my bed-wetting fear of heights

Years drowned by saliva

The only solution is action, but action is a lousy hypothesis

I’ve finally outsmarted my addictions at least

What else?

Wishes and Curses and their embroidery on a letterman jacket of gold; heavy, expensive and sentimentally valuable can warm a body but not a soul and therefore just makes you heavy and even a fucking sneeze, is something you ought pardon, (and please pardon me also) so for us to interface with the world and each other with anything but love and grace for each other is…

Hmm. What else?

I have a moat and you have no castle

And I’m as intimately inside my city as her homeless are but in a less sexy way

I’m not what I sound like - like the word “rampart”

The way to spell “hi” now, is an eggplant emoji and a drooling smiley emoji and if you add a peach emoji and it spells "wya" and I just found out that people say “emoji” instead of “emojis” because it’s like deer or geese and the guy who I overheard say it on TV said it like we all should know that

This is why education is so important

I keep missing out on shit

If he had said the word “Celeb” I would have… done nothing

You don’t say

You don’t ask

You don’t write

You don’t call

What else you don’t?

No, you don’t do that either

Earths maiden name is “purgatory” And there’s a spell you can recite and with arms up high like on a roller-coaster ride, you say it three times and then you get gaked by something bloody that watermelon-bursts, like from a squib busting on the set of a George a Romero flick with what's his name... I'm not going to look it up

Fuck! Tom Savini

I fuckin' googled it

That reminds me of the time that I couldn't remember Gary Numan's name and it it really bothered me but even now, recalling this, I forgot his name again and had to look it up

I am less concerned this time though because I remember now, that last time, it dawned on me that who gives a shit about Gary Numan?

What else?

My friends won’t believe this because I don’t have any friends but I swear the thing works wonders; you just press this button and then you wonder how it works

It’s my birthday year and I’m a sunless-kind of phase of middle age; paled in Navy-blue Ben Sherman slacks that I cannot overstate are undersized and thus high waters, I escape, but you, you’re like me at your age and You’ve tailored your clothes to your crookedness and

A Persian lady who is all Dance, In her sparkly Hollywood vacation boots, I pass and two little black kids have their shirts off and dance while a hobo busks with a nylon string guitar and seeing all this, when I made it to my doctors appointment, I was very chipper but after ten minutes with my doctor, she paused and got serious and said “Are you feeling okay?”

It’s already a bummer when someone asks you that when you’re in a great mood, but having your doctor ask it is super weak

What else?

Guess that's it unless you got anything?