19.8

19.8

There is an open mouth laying open there are monsters in the fields I am looking for a puzzle to solve a whimsy to give away I will write and give it away I don’t care if you publish this you probably have better things to focus on we really don’t know each other we have not established some reciprocal relationship I’m probably not going to submit this piece anyway the things that you need seemed too much too harsh too stringent I think the tone of the words put me off more than the meaning of the words we are beyond merely reading the surface meanings of words Isn’t more what we don’t say than what we say there is so much I haven’t said yet sometimes I wonder about the time that is left probably no one will read this anyway since I’m not going to tag anyone it will just sit there in cyberspace alone without purpose just like the rest of us the bulk of the meaning is submerged the similar are nebulous the gimmick at the expense of the human element a soft landing with a pack of Marlboros in my pocket a prelude to romance you wanted to keep your distance fearful of the copycat culture yearning for some true insight ah this thing you call insight is a fickle bitch no she hides from you and then gives you clues to where you can find her but you are always one step behind you can hear her laughter echoing through the thin walls insight is teasing you and you keep fighting the good fight and claiming to be low-tech I dislike you more and more I am reading 17 puzzling stories each one is about you 17 different ways for you to die played out in my mind across my retinas your search for meaning takes you to a blank wall and at the wall you are shot or stabbed or strangled or poisoned it always happens at the blank wall counting your words retracing your steps the chalk line around your body blood stains bodily fluids a spilled purse men in coveralls cleaning the sidewalk the street the park the living room the church steps the city hall the interrogation room the detectives are writing down the details of your long distance love affair the name of all your lovers where you bought your underwear