(random entries)
entry 788
The fall decorators are late.
entry 86
William has absolutely had it: the running, the
mumbling, the stolen patrol car. He is surely
going to be the first to vanish.
entry 18
Thank goodness Arturo is here with me. he is a
delight, and it is amazing how many show tunes
he has memorized!
entry 98
The trunk is very near completely carved, hollowed,
and tuned. If nobody can hear this, we are most
certainly lost.
entry 118
The spastic ocean is really starting to piss me off!
So far, I have lost a sandal, my wallet, two oars
(handmade—that makes five now), a fishing rod,
and Arturo (although that was his own fault).
entry 400
I feel just like the crabs, sitting inside of this shell,
venturing out, vaguely dressed in my own skin, exposed
to the elements (though the crab, being a crustacean,
has an exoskeleton covering its body. I don’t have an
exoskeleton, that’s why I live in a shell. So, why
the fuck does the crab need to live in a shell?).
I am going to remove all of the crabs I can find from
their conchs, and throw them into the fucking ocean!
I am in a bad mood.
—I’m hungry.
entry 812
I now feel incontrovertibly qualified to make a list
of the ten record albums that I would take with me
on a desert island.
entry 370
I’ve begun masturbating again to the monkeys.
entry 29
Arturo is starting to get on my nerves.
entry 498
I am pissing in the ocean again.
entry 810
the clouds need to vanish
the clouds need to vanish
the clouds need to vanish
entry 1114
If I want Shakespeare, I’m going to have to write him.
entry 255
For the last ten days, I have said three, and only three words.
entry 25
I could really use a couple of aspirins.
entry 1181
“No man’s an island,” huh? Is that right? Who the fuck came
up with that one?
entry 295
I should have had sex with Corey Newton when I had
the chance.
entry 252
come
here
monkey
entry 53
The rain is carpet bombing my shell, to the tune of one
drop every one-one hundredth of a second. Gene Krupa
comes close, but this guy is pretty good!
Wait—I can actually hear Ventura, or is it just the beach?
entry 116
I can’t find my detective novel anywhere. I’ll bet Arturo
swiped it.
entry 390
I’ve been shitting too close to camp.
1 comment:
I'm afraid that I have to admit that this past week I watched the entire 1st season of Lost on DVD, so this poem definitely strikes a chord. We spread it out over a number of nights, and on a few of those nights I drank a quantity of wine. As I would drink the wine, I'd always wind up thinking about "what if they had a poet on the island." And what that would be like. He would most likely write something like this.
"Ijqbc"
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