Dine Out to End Hunger
..............................................I don't know what is more offensive, this, or dressing girls up in $3,000 pink dresses for $1,000 a plate bubbly Breast Cancer galas to talk smack about other rich girls.


Have you ever wanted something?
I will let you use me and use me. and then when I am on the brink of death, you will swoop in and save me so you can resurrect me.


trick bitch. tricky bitch. dropping out of elevators, face down, jackets off.

heavy on the reds, junky, understand what i'm saying, messenger bag, eyeballing me, sharp asiatics, dropping out of elevators, face down, pleasure. 8th floor holds all the knowledge, climbing to a perfect death, ding resonates throughout the lobby, difficult when the speeds are so mixed up, red yellow ("the wild bunch"), pink, blue, black, ascent, green cap, black, grey, descent. grey (right), red (left), ding, black black, striped gone. 2 in 2. red awaits to cut. red in 3. blue ascent ("STAFF"), beautiful sublime sex, blue in 5, green on red, old blue departs in 3, dark glasses, "we're updating our virus catcher" -- old wisehair, prime position, pole position, green in the 1, what will be cut? whole new level of symbolic essence, white in the 2, it's getting heavy, black bobbing ponytail, trying to keep up with the smashing blond ascending, too much pressure, too topheavy, turbaned woman descends, sneeze.

key is in your eye, shake it while you got it, simultaneous old man to the right, 2 to the left, orange means were cycling, what level will be next? insanity. crazy 88s. hold the right hand steady, no shakes allowed, braided ponytail departs, hair mass slung over left shoulder, 2 and 3 open, black tights, swallowed up boa constrictors tall male blond ascends, chasing? say goodbye to the red, plaids coming through, know that i am writing the truth, feel me, harboring hate and fear, fat as all hell, only the right words to say, jacketed 20-something keeling over his computer waiting for answers, hope he gets them, else trundle out to lunch and a beer. pacing yourself with coffee, stabbing at the steps, backpack elongated inches behind you (ll bean), what do your glasses foreclose? not-not greys, 3, 2-5 split, ding, cell phone volume adjusted, fearing the blue descent, strong as hell, bagel in the 1, (screams) losing at poker, fourth or fifth time the old timer crosses me (tattoo on right arm), 1812 overature (western).

spiralling danger innumerable ones, fishing hat gone left, purple ll bean backpack in the 1, already accomplished, say goodbye to big ears, you were beautiful while you were here, a panther descends, a soccer game ends.


clueless types going again and again to the same well. ding ding. manic. pulling hair back, hat backwards, meaningful, all meaningful, polish town, whispy mohawk, hardcore farts, face like an onion, zen squares, making jokes, mr cheeks, rolling, tired as hell, lacrosse players exiting, the elevator door closes, whimsical fanatasies of movie heroes, coming to unfurl me, tearing at a sheet of paper, can you hear it? moving in and out of tense (ding, blondie) and perspective, they are leaving me in their high heels, accusing me of being unkind when in fact i was saving the last dance, not mocking kerouac, never having been able to dig on bowles, (ding goes the white hat), what can a leg tell you, keep it light soul sister, transcend the negative, cornering my red and blue style, X will arise first, why should i worry, everything is going to be allright, now that i am able to play at the right speed, flip flops enormous, how could one man look at so much, how could so much exist in the world, this is not nonsense, security now in the building, moving quicker now, palpable fear, paper rustling, will there be a fire?
motherfucker touching my foot under the desk. ding so loud it shrieks. he did it again, i swear i'm going to punch him in his glasses-ridden face, dogshit motherfcuker. black orpheus. ding. blonde hungering for knowledge, trying to keep her desires straight, limp-dicked fcuks all around her, jodorowsky known for his montrosity, pasolini, no significance in anything, tracing the beats of the library, waiting for my turn to move, hip-jangle comedian-librarian again on the move, investigating, waiting, waiting, waiting, looking into their faces to be born again, old man slapping the pink girl's ass, really she tripped, wise men gathering around to watch her recover like lechers, wanting the ponytail to bob harmoniously to their own individual beat, scum-sucking whores of the apocalypse, putting the sunglasses back to beat out the day, thinking about Biggie again and again, dying, so young, harmony with the beat, head down, in penance for sins, looking straight ahead with a dull dead stare, wanting to be forgiven, loading the elevator up, waiting for her to come off and save me, white tarheel skullcap, badass motherfcukers, hard to the core, doing ab exercises to get their 6 packs, wearing boots, not sneakers, sneezing when it's all over.

El Topo
.................this is really some off the wall hot shit. so this western gunslinger has to defeat these different adversaries. kind of like "ninja scroll". it's kind of buddhist, but also kind of a commentary on plato and western philosophy. it's really a mangled imperfect work though......like the writing is several different stories strung together by almost nothing. some strange lesbian shit too, commentary on sex, close-up of two female tongues touching each other like hesitant iguana tongues, slippery and saliva strands, erotic and full of death-sex. filmed by the dead sea, you get this real sense of the dry dry dry desert of the post-apocalypse, riding through the desert on horse, time has no meaning.
black man with tie. extend your senses. blond and blue come out of the elevator. blue and blue and blond and blond. coming off green to me. there must be some kind of linearity in the surroundings. ding. respect the exterior! red dead ahead. ding. respect the exterior! 2 in the elevator, man across from me sensing i am appropriating transcendental vibes, who knows more about movies than me? printer going, keys jangling in pocket, workman in red, now leaving, time for a cola? now a librarian in blue, his keys jangling off hip, is he chasing the workman?, ding, same red again in elevator, jew-fro crossing my path, blond exiting stage left, wondering if wayne, pa is homing in on my blog, ding yet again, will the elevator never stop going, green pointy ____ hollering at me, now doubles back again, man with limp and longhorn hat sitting down near to type, what does he have to say, his transistor CB radio goes off bloop-beep fuck him, what an annoyance, old lady crossing to the right, turn that shit down, man! fucking asshole, he's not in the game, green ascending stairs, waiting for me to finish, scully-covered black dude getting up, calling me a racist, no just kidding, my own sense of self-hate, CB gone, only a moment to look a porn i suppose, perhaps he needed a work detail invoice thing, blond staring at me, keep your wits about you, else exit.


i am looking at her and she is so perfectly innocent. her eyes are open, searching, waiting; she is so active, in motion, peering through those dull lenses at a fantastically alive world. what does it mean to be woman? does she quiver her body through when she has orgasm, arching her spine back, lapsing into a coma of a second while her brain waves communicate with the ethereal? and then back down to the dullness of her limbs, back to earth to search out the next one and the next one that needs doing, fixing, completion. pleasure is an innocence grown repetitious.


Six split nine
..............you have given up on me.


man don't be chilly i wanted to tell you to wear your moccasins in the street like ________.

................................there is this trend that i think started a couple of months ago, it may be over now, that was a return to classic rock, led zepplin, etc. i'm not sure why music regresses like this every once in a while. something is built up, like a new kind of music, but it is imperfect, there are still gaps that can be filled........so we see the blues/rock form, which can exist in perhaps infinite combinations, repeating and repeating, never exactly the same, sometimes different enough to the ears that we forget the predecessors, the led zepplins, the jimi hendrixes. but don't get it twisted......this is a repetitious and derivative form, good for a moment and then gone due to how quickly it can be mapped to our music brains.......for a blues/rock guitrarist to really do something that would be worth keeping -- this would mean making something like screamin jay hawkins recording of "i put a spell on you" (1955, same year as "rebel without a cause"), a song that could exist in all times and at the same time exists in no time, in an anti-time where time does not progress or regress, but is immanent to our brains in every moment, the purity of the golden white light.


love the __, (hundred) peering at the asians? old folks (nina simone) in camo caps, blessing me silently with books of Mormon, p.ynchon, j brown, quentin tarantino, lovble snarks, sharks, cards, and _______.
den of theives, sneakers, jackets, rainy day. _____ turning around to look at me, what is she waiting for?