White knuckled anxiety takes over my every pore. What with the Killer Kold descending upon me like a plague of electric locusts, coursing through my throbbing veins, knocking me on my ass and forcing me to miss my High Holy Daze, i.e. Halloween, laying like Camille swathed in bedsheets and watching vintage nouvelle vague while listening to the revelry of a million drag queens…ah, exiling my visitors from the Gulf to San Diego and trying to avoid all pollster results and even Rachel Maddow, new Goddess of a New Age For All Mankind


OR not…or more of the same old tired shit we’ve had, repeated ad  nauseum yet in an ever diminishing spiral, sucking us into a WHITE HOLE of US vs THEM privilege against the newly homeless masses living off the last of their ebay™ sales when nobody’s left to buy…an Omega Man scenario crashing up around us…

OBAMA OBAMA OBAMA is the mantra, a luxe utterance with lingual louche, rolling off the tongue and onto the table, a big, big O as the opener, OOOOOO the utterance of a shepherd BAAA and the most heartfelt word in any language, MAAAAAA…

DON’T STEAL THIS ONE DON’T STEAL THIS ONE DON’T—
THEN AGAIN, Paris is calling her siren song…


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One Response to “”

  1. My God, Roy. I always thought your writing was a bit hot-headed, but this entry would make a thermometer burst it's mercury like in a cartoon! You must have been running a fever!

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