Most peculiarly of most things was that I thought all of this very fishy, daudry, drab, and boresome. This is where I turn on the second table lamp...

In a muster I arrived to the home of my aunt, where at once she drew me into the back of the house, down a flight of stairs made of tusk and bone into a catacomb where she kept a alive collection of wooly mammoths. She said the upkeep wasn't awfully horrendous as she had an invisible backdrop which led to a lion, a witch, and a wardrobe sort of thing. I stood in the gangway behind 10 foot high thigh bones waiting for one of the monstrous red beasts to come greet me, but what arrived was a very large elephant with longer tusks than usual. None of the red sillyness which I had dreamt of seeing in my previous years.

She could see I was not that impressed, and so I was led to another part of her home. Around the corner walked in my uncle in is superb and luxurious dress, reminiscent of 18th century British military fatigues. He said, "I bought the E.T. ride from Universal Studios, but as bringing the whole ride to my home I had them adapt a more suitable version to fit the property. A hangar opened and inside there were four chariots of orange and blue, diamond shaped school buses with their undersides aimed at withholding a V-shaped street. Then in two and two single file order all the classmates of my K-12 years arrived and took seat into the strappings of this 'ride' we were to take. Music played, John Williams even was produced by hologram, and after the ups and downs for several minutes we arrived to what I thought would inevitably be the forest, but rather was what I perceived was a Finnish town. The chariot I was in was stuck in the street, mud, rain, and soot entrenched us. I unbuckled the polyester straps and when I stood I realized that though the seats had built in urinals and toilets they were utterly noiseome to the senses. I followed a local girl to a food mart where I asked how I could find where I was but no one spoke a drop of English.

I corraled the group and told them to wait for me. I followed this girl who seemed quite younger than I to a small apartment in the uppermost floor of a very unsturdy chapel-like home several suburban blocks from our ride. She immediately removed her pants and I saw with my very own eyes that she was hairless and nubile. She insisted that we have a ****, and after I caressed her and complained too that she was far too young, she insisted that the age of consent in Germany was actually 13 yet she was 16. I remember it clearly. The most gigantuous feelings of pleasure as I mended a studio closet for my dining room furniture inside her ripening channel. Eventually after an hour we finished, she offered me a towel and some biscuits, which I consumed joyously.

Upon leaving her home I remembered that she had said we were in Germany, and so I produced a measure of Deutsch that I had been saving in my repetoir for the right moment. As Finnish is not my strongest language I was pleased of this and became instantly popular among the other candidates of our journey. This  E.T. ride is far different than  I remember it having been. Moments later I awoke quickly, a tuft of her black hair on my eiderdown comforter and a veil of tears from the merriment of glee shrouded over my face. After I rolled and balled into the soft feathers of my bedding, I twisted myself again into a knot, and allowed myself to rejoin the soporific treatice I was aiming for.

This is now where I turn off both lamps and go on watching films of a similar style.

Wishing You The Very Best,

Sir Martin Narrod

I keep my family of conscience
I shred my folly of heir
In case of torment or fondness
I never wear underwear.

i guess it was always this cold every
winter but i never fully realized 366 days
later this is exactly where i'd be again

i say goodbye to it every year and i
take whatever veil everyone makes for me
to throw it over

we all want to start over

but it's here that january starts to cry on my shoulder
i liked this shirt, and i liked to keep my heart on its sleeves
but i let her cry until i feel each shoulder freeze

knowing this year was a bad one and
that she's lost a lot

(this entire time i think: ***** you. ***** you for hurting her)
(but i also want her to forgive)

the entire time wishing i could have her back
and soon i'm having a panic attack

my hand over her now
under my breath i'm praying
i wish i could take the weight off her
i wish i had plainly had more
to offer
i wish i had it in me to say i could stop her

from everything but mostly from her own suffering
even months away i'm so ****** cursed
to already see the sadness buffering
her software overload

switching her hardware up thinking it would do us any good
when the world will still spin and the events planned
will still happen as they should

all i do is hold her and hold her fists
away from her eye
stop rubbing them while you cry
she said she'd have worried about wrinkles too
if she didn't plan to die

i'm getting too old to ask her to justify why

every year i get asked
  please won't you please
  keep this boulder?
i need it to stop me from getting older
please won't you please?     i want to stay on your shoulder

and every year she says:
don't **** my dream don't **** my hope don't **** my illusion
unless you want me dead too

i said this year i want this and i want you
but
keep that february away from me
if you want it gone i want
all of it gone

she said
i might not be right but i can tell that
that is wrong

(and she adds
i wish instead i was
left
cause i need you going and i need you gone)

but i'm
hanging tight
hoping my heavy burns down to your light

no , light
lightest lit light
stop me turning everything into
a fight

no light
isn't that winter?
yes
wake up
it's winter it's march

you know what i want to say?
i'm waiting for sweet april days
roll around fast paced craze
and all her showers i'm waiting for
i'm itching at stories because i can't wait for more
and thank april for the showers for the flowers for the
bloom for the
run around turn around
find yourself hanging on her
every move

till May said May
till May said
you may May
you may stay you may be mine
you, may,
be mine

you maybe
mine

you, maybe mine

just for a few days more

till june comes around to hack and **** up my door

unsturdy but there
one against the problems door against the thought door against
the dizzy door against the rot

so  hinges slipped and hinges slid
and nothing felt heavier than
my eyes, right shut close they did

i was holding in the only way i knew
i was keeping up before i blew

i was keeping in as much as i could
i was holding on more than i should

and tell july she was ugly

and tell her if i hadn't been too busy crying
and too busy sad
i would've been mad

dare she
did anyways
and poked me in the eye

she said

they have to be open

i said

you're the one trying to **** me now

she said august is here and
you missed it fighting

i said i missed myself
more than i could ever imagine
and i feel myself
on seven clouds
at once

she said i know who you're talking about and give her four days
she's going go away

i nodded
but i knew it couldn't be true
this was a form of me as much as it was all i cared to say i knew

till friend my friend called her friend to call my friend friend to call around and say that i found myself
at the edge of myself and i realized much of the ******* up and i realized more than sorry
and i remembered big guilt filling up pools of myself and
incapacity to swim and
overcrowding
means drowning

in august i remembered how ugly
i could be in the rawest form of myself

and i spent 2 weeks with my hands on a blade wondering
when the day would be that i'd ditch
the body

i was possessing feeling and thought and i was
something more than that

i was surprised to read in my journal that this was something i thought consistently about

so if i were to let go it'd be the body it'd be
the mind and i'd let them die
the only way my spirit could ever learn to fly

and body got weaker call me
weakest on the plane
but september came here right back and
she came back quite like the best
hug attack

no hack no more she said
no need for
a door

she came back to say i'm here! she came back to say i missed you!
and i missed her too i missed you so much i love
you so much i love myself i am superwoman i am
superwoman today

she said you are superwoman everyday jesus
christ you have no idea what you've missed

i said i love you i love you i love you don't you
dare go away

and friend called friend and friend called friend
till the sad came around to finally
shove me again

locker of myself i thought
bullies were insecure

but she looked me straight in the eyes with words
and a voice that made me know she was sure

i didn't even say hi to her this time
so don't give me crap
i hate her
as much as you do


and i was thinking out loud to my best friend to
please just make her go away make her go away

but stupid idea because i stayed for months
in a bed
with her
in my head

so month beat month till month turned month
happy birthday month happy
anniversary month
marking days
i knew what it
was for

and in october i swore i
was feeling it come on this year mild

but november was so cold and december
looks at me in that way that january felt
and i knew it wasn't innocent enough to leave me alone

i can't defend you january i am so sorry this is
so much bigger than both of us

i'm just so sorry to have not kept my promise to you

a dream is big in you reeling through young arms stabbing
(by able blades of deft hands)
the night


                     a rose


of the magic distillation released
shifting 'pon the wind
trembles not a clove
but sand 'neath feet
is unsturdy moving
out to sea a moon
is larger than anything else
hanging by some cord invisible
and a lark cringing on the air divisible:





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Luscious lemons in your silky hair waving as you saunter down the gilted avenue. From my seat, all buckling unsturdy, your redlovely lips upon pearl face gaze my way. The old women on wooden tables kneading their Orecchiette with daughters all drawn and hasty. Brahmana passing by in tight little groups. Proverbs whispered from sealed lips. The Sun near the Gondolas passing en plein air. Pigeons splayed upon the etherized Sky all-atwitter with thought. And I see you passing through the marketsquare: afire with meadowsweet dress. The violins quivering a crescendo of Baroque notes as you turn a sorrowful glance, but, alas, it's lost in the crowd.

I survived the ferryman,
swindled him out of the ride,
I simply used against him,
his own ego and his pride.

Upon this island now,
I see a lighthouse standing,
the keeper is inside,
I hear is quite demanding.

Though his house is unsturdy,
it's foundation made of chalk,
he sways with the waves,
impressive is his walk.

Pegasus waits patiently
on the swaying deck,
the waves begin to build,
the lighthouse they will wreck.

I climb the stairs and see the man,
waiting there for me,
dressed in robes and sandals,
quite a sight to see.

He says come with me,
and mounts the horse,
his wings spread out wide,
the lighthouse begins to crumble
but I decline to ride.

I jump into the air,
expecting to drown and die,
but I'm given no choice,
as dangling, I now fly.

A strong hand grips my collar,
as the water and land, slide by below,
I ask where we are going,
he says no need to know.