An eventful day in world of L and A. I got my paperwork done for this online teaching gig, hiked up Griffith, got a couple cans of peas (I heart P's!), and what else? Oh, yeah. I got an oil change and car wash. I also cleaned again. It seems that living with teenagrs requires continuous up-keep. It's definitely making me very cleanly, although I might be sick of the lesson by now, so PLEASE PLEASE let me get FREE! Ahhhh, they ren't that bad. Just messy kids. I can be that too, so WHATEVER.
I would rather spend my time contemplating my role in society, how I can change the publishing and writing world, and how many peas to eat tonight for dinner. I am thinking this on all topics: EAT PEAS, 1 CAN, THEN WRITE A POEM TO END ALL POEMS. Isn't that what's it's all about? To destroy and pillage, to conquer the world and eat the meat dripping flesh of our competitors? Don't we want to let the money bleach us dry into powdered donuts that flake into crumbs and ash the moment we shake a tail feather to CRATE & BARREL for an OH-SO-YUM-YUM chest with drawers?
Sometimes poetry is about being so emotional that you can't write nice sparse lines. It just wants to come out of you, to rip up the world. I say let it. I say find out where every thought goes. Don't flinch behind anything. Just write it. Write the mind on fire. Where will it get you? Will it drive you mad?
Well, lets get mad. Things are not right in the state of Denmark. Why? Because I can't smoke outside anymore. People are complaining. They complain everywhere. They think it's some goddamn right to point and tell and say how I can be more like them, but I don't want to. I don't want to...
There are many voices that shout in the night. There are many things that can be censored with a can of bleach. There are many things tat may seem as cryptic as a hawk swooping down over you. There are many things.
Today an artist cried to me on the phone about success and fame in this grand city. Oh, how many artists are crying, trying to see a way to move through hoops and gt that power and privelige to be who they are without apoligies - the promise of success.
"I want to be like Jack Black," an actor smiles. "So I can eat whatever I want."
"I want to be a famour director," another coughs. "So I can make movies and everyone and everything can think I'm great and kiss me and make my wounded soul feel a bit like normal."
"Um," another laughs. "I want to eat PEAS!"
Well, then, I say. Peas it is.
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