(From)
The Record of My Cure by Sal Salasin |
February
25, 1995 Next up, doglike carnivores join the search for food. In my dream, I find myself on Montel Williams engaged in pointless argument with three slatterns and some guy with thinning, slicked back hair. I don't want to change the world, I just want to change the channel. People in love will say anything. Like "road pizza" or "prosecutorial misconduct." In my dream, I'm standing naked in a ruined landscape on a ruined world and all the animals are standing around saying, "It was man, he did it." February 27, 1995 My girlfriend likes to ask me, "What year is it? Who's president?" She likes to see if my brain is totally rotten. We have these pet phrases we say to each other like "Keep your fucking hands on the car." I don't know why people hassle me, I'm a lifelong contributor to the social security administration. Hey! If the ends don't justify the means, what does? It's a franchise, like Jiffy Lube. And probably gang related. They say they love you but would they pay $5 to park in Venice, California? Not!! Your best friend is probably inflatable. March 20, 1995 Dengue Fever, Mankind's Last Best Hope? Or Blueprint for Bondage. You decide. The past is unfinished and the future yet to come. Maybe we'll get lucky but I doubt it. That's me, there, standing next to Toyota Jackson, Michael's sister? I've just stumbled in in rags to announce I've lost the farm at three-card monte. "It all looked so easy and I was winning." If death is young and beautiful, why is she hanging around here? March 22, 1995 Yesterday I saw my life story on the Discovery Channel. Every morning I wake up thinking of death. My inner child wants to eat over-floured food and be left alone. I had the gun in my mouth when I realized I still had a load in the dryer. I was pandering to the debased taste of a sensation- seeking public. They didn't bite. Inanimate objects lead more exciting lives than I do, but it ain't personal. Why don't we rot? I sit alone with a jug of wine, watching the moon all runny like an overripe cheese. April 4, 1995 You know, in a crazy sort of way I have to feel sorry for anyone incarcerated without benefit of legal counsel. I'm not dead I just can't look away from all the blood. When I think about all the time I wasted in petty crimes when I could have been involved in serious, really major war crimes against whole nations and ecosystems! One of the three nicest things about me is I'm witty, charming, and reasonably priced. Take control of your destiny. Dial 1-900-PSYCHIC. We're ready to train you now to work in the travel agency of the future. April 7, 1995 This is our president and this is his water dish. My girlfriend has an iron that's smarter than I am. I have this nightmare where I'm visiting my grandmother and get drafted into the Iraqi army. What's new? Everything's old and everything's still the same. Exactly as Marx predicted. I'm the same. Not that eternity winks. The most exciting sexual encounter you're ever likely to almost have had. Rule #1: Never post bail for anyone on the first date. I couldn't tell you rule #2 since I never got that far but I am sure of rule #1. (from a line by Paul Hoover) April 10, 1995 I'm lying on the floor of the intensive care ward making friends with a lot of folks on drugs. The two ugliest people in the world are standing outside and smoking cigarettes. It's a great job, at least beats wearing an orange vest and picking up trash by the highway. I'd plead the fifth but I can't count that high. That's on advice of counsel, a large black dog named Sam. There's got to be a bottom and I know someday I'll find it. I take some comfort in that. Part of my desire to be mental. |
Publications:
Optima Suavidad Links: http://www.scn.org/arts/realpoetik Email: salasin@scn.org |
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