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(1.) You Live your Days Skeptically
staring down the Firing Squad
(2.) Half of what I Say are little Slips about the Profane yet
Beautiful Occurrence we call Boxing, from which, Produces an almost too-perfect Reflection of Man’s
Movement through Life
(3.) It can be Said that this means: at least Half, of what I
Say, is Holy, or (in) itself, views itself, as the Pure Attempt to Attain a
Plane of Holiness.
(4.) in other words:----------------àMy Life can be Seen as a Pure (-ily) “Coming-Force” coming Forth
(5.) Infested with 3 Decades of Fatigue
(6.) Okay, so Call Me: “Mr. Mopey
Dick”
(7.) That Little Seductive Drive Towards Excess: One’s Vain
Belief that what eventually shall March into View, will be some Grand Personal
Revelation
(8.) It could be said quite
literally, of the many Barriers that One Confronts:
“There is a Sty in my Pie”
(9.) i.e.-----------àI’m your Late-Night Porkie
(10.) While the Body, for
Izsus, Functions as an Arena for the Catastrophic, I Reiterate, my own Push
towards the Funnelistic and oddly-so, Benevolent Trauma of Desire
(11.) And Again: of Internal-Value-Exchange: its Supplicated Filth exists
in the insatiable Emergence of
Exists, instantaneously-coming-against, the Event of “My Light”,
which Desires, to Absolve itself, of Objectivity
(12.) According to Izsus,
author of The
Little World of My Asinine Dreams (1981),
her luxurious Bosom alone did not Constitute
a Refuge. It was only after The Great Chicago Blizzard of 1967, when His
Body had Collapsed under Ice, that He, while laying there, Immovable for 4 Days
before the first Thaw, that He realized, that She was to be, as of that Moment,
the very Constitution of a Desirable
Refuge. And soon-there-after, he Retreated from any further Conflict that might
Question her Ability to send Him, quite
literally, out into the Wilderness of his own Language
(13.) Romantic: a Word is no fucking
Strategy
(14.) A Strategy, like an
Isolated Work of Attack, must be entirely Detached from the Surrounding Reality
of a given Exterior World, and moreso, be a Self-Sustained ,Complete
Cycle, in and of itself, like Menstruation
(15.) Oh And of Course: The Fact that R. Kelly will one day Die, is
one of My Life’s Greatest Distractions
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