oh sure sure, because Burroughs
didn't exactly celebrate his
****** addiction in his writing...
what's there, not to celebrate?
alcoholic or not,
              i enjoy the masochism
involved in the recuperation period
of, the next day,
for about two hours,
before i come to my senses and
retain some form eloquence...
my English verbose plush...
              of a tangerine, or a plum...
but hey...
        no one says to a painter:
too many colors, or...
  not enough colors...
    but i'm pretty sure that
         Mozart was criticized...
in that film: Amadeus...
         by Emperor Leopold II...
too many notes... too many musical
notes...
          ****... well...
let's just listen to the ambient music
of the refrigerator's drone hum,
snooze, buzz and frizz.