Open for business
And not much else
There's always a betrayal
Of virtue and apathy
Just one pleasurable stroke of
Nothingness...
Subdued emotion, trapped at
The "Someone's Arrived" bell
Haven't I heard it before?
One who dreams...
Perhaps dreamt too much.
So use your thrusting pen
To write a painful
Song and
Close my eyes...
To lapse into a
State of non-being.
What a word!
What am I committing?
(my mind)
I was along the lines of...
...never mind...
Intentions were for
No matter.
Fifty years more of
Elfin tears
Won't prevent
Dreams from
Coming
**** flight
Tears close up shop
And make an excruciating entrance
Exit
Here,
Please. Now.

What a suicide
Of thought.
Wasn't this supposed to be
Enjoyable?

come up to where i am
i've been there
i understand perfectly
it's a thinking man's movie
no mother of god
i'd be tied down to her schedule
it's a hassle
they would make it his cross
they could make up their minds if they knew the difference
8.47 and the clock's still thinking
i don't want to go looking for calvary's eden
it's like being evaporated
he knows what he wants to do
i understand what he wants to do
it's not a dead end
it's the same thing
you've got a lot
do you know how fast three days go by?
this is not my armageddon
this trot is very limiting
that doesn't sound right
that would be a complete, utter waste of time
hooves clotting beneath the sick steed
i just hate that sound!
what are you proving?
she's afraid you'll break in martyrdom and bag groceries
it's still familiar to me
what are you doing?
get over here and do it.
where's the chocolate?

Piles of Shoes
Of Broken Glass
Of Torn Stars
And Cramped Hair

Stripes of Grey
And Heartless Wire
Rain of Ash
Puddles of Bone

Pool of Eyes
And Swimming Grace
Crumbs of Life
In Soup of Nausea

Odours of...
...What?
What...
What Never Happened...

Still...
There were
Piles of Shoes.

~christa elise cannon

Hi.
My name's Blair and
I'll be your instructor tonight.
Defensive driving with a class full of
Deviants.
Even the instructor had
Five Tickets
His first year and a half in San Antonio.
But, hey! We get an insurance discount.
Sometimes people get to the front
And they're not sure if
They're supposed to have a book.
What book?

You still have time before class--
Get those donuts!
Do I have the right book?
Everybody needs a pen--
If you have a fairy pen, that won't do.
Today we're going to learn about driving techniques...
Don't worry.
No matter how far off track I get,
We still get done early.

What's the real policy on pecans?
I was wondering
If you could cut the jet noise
Between, oh...about 5.30, sixish?

Split-second decisions
Spot the hazards
You're driving along 1604
And the speed limit changes to
Fifty
Overnight.
Where were the warning signs?
Is this the book?

How hard is it to drive your car if you're not in the driver's seat?

Did anybody get the donuts?
Where's the pizza he was talking about?
Why isn't he in the driver's seat?
Why am I?
Out of hundreds of architects,
Why did Newsweek ask
A nearby park resident?

Your jury isn't attorneys.
No, it's people.
Your punishment isn't
The Red Square.
No, it's--
               CUT THE JETS!
               WHAT BOOK IS HE TALKING ABOUT?
               I WANTED PEPPERONI.
List common signs of an impaired driver.
First, he's not in the driver's seat...
Sometimes people get to the front...
Of donuts and pizza
And they're not sure
Which one should I choose?
If they're supposed to have a book.
No matter how far off track I get,
There isn't a policy for pecans.
We still get done early.
You can't stop the jets from flying.
The jury isn't attorneys.
Drive within the speed limits and
The jury is people.
Pay attention to your driving.

I found the book!
All right--class is over;
I'll see you on Thursday.*
I thought we were going to have pizza.
I'll bring donuts...next time.

I was wondering...



How hard is it to steer
Your car if
You're
Not in the driver's seat...?

~Christa Elise Cannon.

SO
YOUR
FIRST
PIECE
WAS
TOO
GREASY
AND
GAVE
YOU
HEARTBURN
ARE
YOU
GOING
TO
STOP
EATING
PIZZA
HECK
NO
NE­XT
TIME
GO
SOMEPLACE
ELSE
EVENTUALLY
YOU'LL
FIND
THE
PERFECT
PIEC­E
THIN
CRUST
PEPPERONI
AND
TONS
OF
CHEESE
AND
NO
A
N
C
H
O
V
I
E
­S
PLEASE

Silence
Deafening and
Destructive
The water begins to pour
The pitcher tips over
And down
There is a puddle on the floor
He looks at my offering with fury
Why does he turn rain into hurricanes?
Pissant.
He needs to learn how to swim.

~Christa E. Cannon