at a state prison a males state prison on death row where people dont give a fuck about threatening her told me that she would love for me to move into her 5 bdr 5 bath house and marry her and her cute little 5 yr old.
and i told her that im no better than a french mountain goat in a zoo trying to get some corn out of a dispenser except the goat is smarter. and she said why. and i said cuz the goat can shit where he wants to, he doesnt have to wear pants and eventually some asshole will put a euro in the machine and give him his damn dry corn.
bullets greeted me this morning at the xbi and i pitied the fool before i shot him in the eye.
to save the world i had written in cursive on a post-it last night and stuck to my computer monitor and i had forgotten and there it was with a little blood on it and it’s good to remind you why you do the things you do and why you wake up in the morning and why you put your tights on one footsie at a time.
more bullets in the break room when i was digging around my back pocket for exact change because the juice machine hates me spun around didnt hit the ground because ive been to the edge and there i stood and looked down and i will not go down with a dollar in the juice machine and a quarter in my hand and shot that motherfucker in the nose and blood squirted everywhere and it was sick. the nose is gross as hell with a silver dollar sized hole in it and i suddenly didnt want the bear claw. but i did find the dime and hit the bloody button and out came the oj. hi.
thought about shooting his dead body but, so tired.
every morning ive been waking up more tired than the next. no good reason other than age and broken dreams. theres a little park behind the office where the nannys take the little white kids and swing em on the little swings and how could that be, something zipped past my ear. and then another and it clinked on the see saw.
thank god i didnt shoot that dead guy again cuz now i only had a few more bullets and i didnt know where the– zing. SHIT. where was he. behind that car? no. ting. behind that palm tree. no.
ah there he is, under the mercedes.
i looked to the right of him like i didnt see him, i aimed about twenty feet away and then swiveled quick and unloaded everything under that car. a woman screamed down the street. i just sat there and watched the blood stream down the gutter.
and counted the hours until regis would come on.