Delivered by The General at
the Restaurant at the End of the Universe, 2002
I wrote this in his honor. I wish I hadn't had to.
Far off sounds
of digested beans liven an otherwise miserable exchange of ideas like slicing
skin from a cat while the cat complains. Gargle the pan full of blasted
yellow Listerene with galactic efforts. It is stuck in your throat like
stringy fingers. Gaaaaaggggggghhhhhooooophhhh-fiddy-do-dah.
Time is an illusion Never More. Never More
Cracked bone on
a finger where the pins point north. How can an eyelid stretch so far?
Grey noise sours the toe cheese but spreads on the mottled toast like piney
butter. Squid Stink and a hair cut... two bits.
Am I getting you down? Never More. Never More.
Itching so deep
a garden trowel breaks off. Grind again and again knowing the final outcome
will make the cure worse than the disease. Heave it out. Suck it back in.
Light a candle and watch Springer.
So Long and Thanks for all the Fish. Never More. Never More.