|fig. 29) this math of agents day|
Head to the problem of place Patch and my knees to find it All night long And it's all night long again Too sing sing sing I've forgotten this song You're just like a drawer I want to open you some more - The older examples of these are songs for math and other stirrings. (note-should turn this quickly obverse)Beneath the cold sleep of the region that they settled into. They murmured sadly as a crowd of ones. They were tired and some of them hummed, I hope you know that this will go down in your permanent record. I hope you know that this will be looped like a thousand times before it's understood, BEEP.
PC was wearing high white socks. He looked like a tennis coach, pulling at his bottom lip. He joked easily with AK, something funny and dense. The coffee maker is sweaty plastic. There's burned gunk in the bottom of the carafe. The basement's dug, all the chairs are sitting in back. Self organized practices, what of them?
Just bring music, The gloves on the little white table are filthy. When all of the dirt and the shit gets mixed in with the gypsum then suddenly it smells like brick and mold should. It smells wet now, just like it's been practicing. That’s because nothing is really every attached. Laughter doesn’t bring us together or bind us. It’s just more work.
So we'll expand the practice of this. We've got the lights. We can deepen our understanding of the scope of our shared purpose, whatever that is. Let's say we're out of fish then we'll worry, Turnkey at hand, full of big song is what AK says. Daring sagittarians full the eye'd with sparkle, He continues. Look at them lean out over the edge and into that great stairwell, the night. Their purpose is fulfillment. The emptiness of their insides is like a weeble that's struck at the bars back. They're drunk on getting half of full again and again. But we can change that.
We watch as the boats come ashore. I'm surprised at first, MM pulls out a pen and he hands it to AN. Once we've all signed she hands us the lease to this brick house. When we move in the game is called, find a room. It's rules are simple, order a pizza then sit on the floor until someone you know has a place to put their mattress. We didn't change that or make it grow cold but we were right here when that happened.
Leg of the uneven always steps more lighterly when it's coming down, Isn't that what you're always saying? We'll drink the bottle down and run for more, I agree with him.
We moved in and we found Kimsy in a box of old cloths and letters from foster children in the war. The neighbors had left and the peach tree suddenly died, one said. There was some talk that it was that small monkey. He'd shit outside and throw hard fruits at us kids. He screeches and caws like a cat and an owl at once(laugh laugh).
The daughters all moved out today. They found boyfriends and finally ended up out in Cicero. Their dealer's close, She said. He's by the grocery store, even if the truck's broke nobody will notice.
That's how that white house would sound on 18th St.
In the summer times there was always shorter days. The asian pine trees would grow up into the thick air of the trash while the cats did nothing. Their backyard slowly drifted into ours once their blue garage fell in. Down the street there’s a bodega that’s closed, they were serving dumpster food to road crews at lunch time. Down the street there’s a bar and across the street from that is a gas station. It sits underneath the highway like the squat egg of a labyrinthine buddha named yellow.