I’ve been writing on and off for years now. It’s something I always come back to. Sometimes I don’t do it enough when I’m not in writing classes. This story was written Fall Semester 2007. It doesn’t have any punctuation.
i’m here,
jiving
drivin
walkin
talking
when i needs to
i’m at this place, this psychadelic happ---happ---happ---happ---happening
there aint no walls and there aint no floor and we’re all a big waterbed of jel.ly-dancing
theres this frame floating without walls and its telling us all how we grind
a satin cloaked scruff, a baseball hat and a brown plateau
you here the shit, you know the shit
this guy this hipster this motherfucker who knows what the score is he made the scoreboard for christs sake
this illusion a trick a man named kyle hes a kyle abcdefg
he slides amoeba slides all around the kitchen
hes a crafty cookie a troubled raft in a three foot fountain lets swim! lets swim. lets fuckin swim
he pulls me to one side, walls, washer, dryer, kisses, loves, he tells “
a motherfucker grabbed my dick
”
he says he grabbed him they were making out and kyle didn’t need want whats the score on that time out! time out!
not on the first date
the mtherfucker the translucence screams without volume ha ha durp ha
we chase whiskey whiskey crème whiskey with fruit
girls laugh and girls can sneer and me and kyle kiss and we hide in the refrigerator and
we’re both postmodernists and cable jockey lovers
we say words and the walls aren’t there still but one is and we see it
sidetracked i get loops around the house loops and time frames thirty one minutes different and its great
a blackout walkhome and this pleasurable little show
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