..... Bill Campana
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violence one is splitting logs with an ax in the middle of summer in the middle of phoenix outside the joe diaz gym. not for the fire place but for the fire. one is relocating a mound of dirt with a shovel. functionless landscaping. when two are finished with their chores they will go inside and punch each other. sweet. one block up the street there is a different kind of violence. on the corner of fifth avenue and jefferson a man is pointing an imaginary rifle at the crowd of people across the street. maybe one of the boxers from the joe diaz gym could walk over and knock some sense into him. rework the vericose veins on my ankles are like the blueprints for my feet. the vein on my forehead the same for my anger. i'm not thrilled that i can be so easily re-produced. it's not enough that i hang my words out to dry on this live clothesline. my identity was recently stolen but after a few hours the thief gave it back. attached was a note that read: how do you live with those thoughts? you think about the what ifs and the way things turned out. you give up on the circles and reconsider the horizon and the road you travel. the perpendicular particulars. you wish you could get a discount for your mental energies. there is no value in lying in bed not even while you imagine a better existence, a closer heaven, a tangible experience spending your energies. you might want to try this on a bar stool. Things bad habits always looking for the easy way out i lie like you wish you had contentment, spiritual enlightenment, the endless possibilities of a recaptured youth, a tall glass of nina ricci perfume, fresh coffee exhaust from the red line. Things. a dress a strap-on vagina high heel shoes a saddle a dress a strap-on vagina high heel shoes spurs. individuality tied into submission. i will end up hating everybody behind the eight-ball. color clear afterlife clear. word...word to your mother...soup. "...from the mountains to the prairies, to the oceans white with foam, god damn america..." identify surroundings. emptiness. Main Page
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