After a weekend reading Bear Parade off and on with Tender Buttons at the top of the bathroom pile
Published Sunday, February 25, 2007 by Frank Sauce.
It has not teeth or sight at this time when by nature it should
For there is what is meant, in any other instances
"A dark grey, a very dark grey, a quite dark grey is monstrous ordinarily, it is so monstrous because there in no red in it. If red is in everything it is not necessary. Is that not an argument for any use of it and even so is there any place that is better, is there any place that has so much stretched out." Gertrude Stein, "A RED HAT", Tender Buttons, Dover, pg 8
Similarly, heat and cold are them, not only if they originate in plasticity, but even if the man, who was of quantity of all that have been mentioned, with regard to the annihilation of perception, of the primary substances love seeds
It is quite true that there is no such them, not only if they originate, but also in all respects by their alteration in facts
I poured some bourbon for us, 'cause these words just won't work hard enough This is a line I thought of on Friday at work, which was inspired by the subject line in a spam that got through to my inbox at work: disemboweled by feathery! A kink-shock-trendy line, don't you think? Do something more with it later
Of the case that way, he would explain the size of a white object in terms of backgammon
No doubt it sits with our degree; but an has I had been you, if I and you exists; it would be difficult, if not impossible, to find a branch
For if two exists, it follows directly that they themselves, those people vary in the degree in which they possess something, not the grammar of some thing
The first was the very difficult, I had still to do an evil and the mean, which is a good, is equally the contrary of the ordinarily arisen, a lack of this capacity through substance capable of admitting contrary qualities
But it was being indicated by the preposition of or by some other of, something which is a part of us, as a hand or a foot
Can we count attrition?
The species of man and the species of ox are not defined by their relation to each other We acquire knowledge of objects already modified, but because this modification occurs in the case of us, it is essential that the correlative object, thought, should be exactly a subject of some other sorts
Besides these senses of the word, there is a fourth or at least a third
Of course, my me may go extinct, but we all die, don't we?
I went besides this
Carved in a wooden table at a bar:
"Get kicked with your dick out"
Lines in my head afterward:
We stare at each other through eager mirrors
your cervix, my urgency
A sawtooth of mandamus
On eyelid is remember
you go funny
Or anyway
I glucose go referencing
Not colony at Saigon
a is sarcastic
"A" is earnest
"Evil heart breaking bitch would like to be added as one of your friends"
I can do that! I thought
Click . . . click "approve"
Striven jovial
Go guilt by obtrusion
That's some thing you've got there
Last night I went to a party. There were many more men than women at the party. It seemed like everyone was kind. This was a dream I had, because there wasn't a party unless you want to count hangin' around a bunch of literati waiting for something, though I'm not sure what they were waiting for.
As the party moved on into the late night, I was standing by the fire, nursing a crappy Manhattan. From clear across the room, there was this impish woman smiling at me. I smiled back.
At that precise moment, I noticed that all the men were wearing the same shirts that I had in my closet. They were my my shirts, I knew this intuitively, but they were the same colors, the same patterns with the same cuffs, the same fabric. Several of the men were wearing the same shirt as an other, and these were my favorite shirts in my closet, so maybe they knew they were wearing my favorite shirt and they were trying to rub it in that my favorite shirts are not original at all, just visually appealing to me, my height and build.
Right after the ephiphany, I woke up.
I like paperless voting I wish we could all vote on the computer either at home or the library,
where we could spend hours voting and reading about what we're going to vote
about and surf the net to find out enough
information to vote even somewhat
informed
If we could save our votes until we were
done voting and then
submit our vote before the deadline?
That would be good paperless voting
That gets my vote!
where we could spend hours voting and reading about what we're going to vote
about and surf the net to find out enough
information to vote even somewhat
informed
If we could save our votes until we were
done voting and then
submit our vote before the deadline?
That would be good paperless voting
That gets my vote!
thinkin' of mo' than one can cogitate:
there's a banner for you, a banner right through you when drinkin' on the street late last night and staring at the shadow of a banner that read "Fight No More," I thought of the power of a well-placed "w." All the semi-bohemian-hipsters-scenster-corporate-lacky-dogs who have bought in to the American Dream have finally moved in, which makes the rest of us want to drink on the streets in the fake-spring of this early February, but as an outsider of insiders, even if I wanted to, I could not choose a side in our imperialism inside and outside of this small-big-city.
Langpo? PoMo? Shit, what the hell have you theorists been doing these last few years, listening to the bootlegs of popular hip-hop?
there's a banner for you, a banner right through you when drinkin' on the street late last night and staring at the shadow of a banner that read "Fight No More," I thought of the power of a well-placed "w." All the semi-bohemian-hipsters-scenster-corporate-lacky-dogs who have bought in to the American Dream have finally moved in, which makes the rest of us want to drink on the streets in the fake-spring of this early February, but as an outsider of insiders, even if I wanted to, I could not choose a side in our imperialism inside and outside of this small-big-city.
Langpo? PoMo? Shit, what the hell have you theorists been doing these last few years, listening to the bootlegs of popular hip-hop?
Frank Sauce
- By Jeffrey Bershaw
- from Portland, OR
- I'll try to write as little as possible. I'm a little man with high hopes, pipe dreams and little machines inside that keep me writing.
- More About Frank Sauce
- Painting by Anna Todaro
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