by practicalspactical

I thought maybe I would write about the finance guy I saw at Cosi this afternoon — sort of a dipping into an other life type of thing — since I guessed he was my age or younger — yet fairly professional on the phone and all — I forget how professional I could be on the phone — usually when I was buying something — nothing like the old company credit card — the good old days, before the recession — now, the banality of going over this young man with his money and career and no need for a law degree for him, he just probably played by the rules — come on, now Ed, don’t be jealous — that could have been your life — could still — but you reject it everyday — there is some sand grating in your eye that makes the easy and shorter path of kind attention and service disdainful to you — perhaps it is the ordinariness of it? You never did want to be ordinary, did you? But here you are, the Most Ordinary Boy in New York. Maybe. Going slowly mad. Whichone of us isn’t? Are you going mad to survive? Fireboy burning away out of the Lying Restraints? I prefered to be that one, the Hippie Actor, and yet, there was no pussy down that road, or there was once, but she was ugly, or something — no, not ugly per se — large maybe —

hmm — what a hateful entry. what a screed. Is it my hunger? It is 1 AM and I have yet to eat dinner. Fee Fi Fo Fum. I smell the Blood of an English Man — Jack Jack Jack Be Nimble — The Js have it, the Js and the Js and the Js — God’s Name, I have, was given, who gave it to me, why, who chose you to be my mother, Choose and Don’t Be Chosen — The Only Meaning in this Life is the Choices We Make given the Constraints We Dance To — Lead Guitar over someone else’s bassline — Screaming Noiserock — A Butcher, A Baker, A Candelstick Maker. Wallace Stevens was a Lawyer. Some would say that that was his problem. Walter Whitman, Priestly Faggot. Oh the Hateful Screed — Why do we hate and who do we hate and how? Some disease of the Superego no doubt, never did trust that Superego, that is not the Ubermensnch no, but it cannot be dispensed with, it must be replaced with the Personal Censor instead of the Societal One. To Live Outside the Law, You Must Be Honest & Money Doesn’t Talk It Screams. Bob Dylan Said That. Talking World War III Blues. Again Around the Merry-Go-Around, Ashes Ashes We All Fall — over the hump and through the woods, a Fox is digging up his Grandmother — Surrounded by the Ghosts of Battles Fought — There is Certain Inherited Bloodlust in my Back-Brain — One Cousin is Pregnant, Another is in Jail, a Third Has Lost Her Liver. I’m in a profession where were supposed to help people with their problems. Companies need Lawyers too. Being an Asshole is not Illegal. What is the Law? The Flexing Malleable Bendable Law. Push and Pull It. Legalize One Thing and Not Another. Subject it to this and that and this and that — — —

Twenty years pass and I go through my life and I do what I’m told, painting by numbers, don’t ask how high, this and that, and this is that, mind is everything, its not, this is real, this is life, this is fleeting, water through my fingertips, some strange handprint in the clay, an electrical field maybe, an accident of gravity, oxidized hydrogen, strange chains of  liquid moleculess holding complex crystals in suspension until NododaddyGodMom breathes hir breath upon the waters and says be fruitful, multiply — needs not give the third command, to fight and die, since that is one of the preexisting constraints — miracles do not last, they are moments not worlds, we are a moment in the life of the world, passing moment, a break in the clouds allowing sunlight —

Far and away and the banalities of one are the banalities of another

This is that

This is that

My head hurts from hunger. Wisdom is banging on my skullpan. Where’s your Hammer, Hephaestus?