I saw a Bio of Woody Harrelson,
the hitman he played in No Country for Old Men,
and I thought how I might like to have been in motion pictures,
work with interesting people, then I thought how, actually,
I am temperamentally suited to be a writer, to work by myself,
to spring to the easel of a morning, and be able to do what I do
with nothing but a personal computer, a printer/scanner, and
a digital camera.
Then I watched You Will Meet
a Tall, Dark Stranger,
and thought, What is
Josh Brolin playing a creep for? I guess
he just wanted to work with Woodie Allen.
Possibly Naomi Watts. I’d rather watch
a movie with Brenda. Watch the election
coverage. The Republicans are melting down.
A public hanging. A circular firing squad,
as somebody said. The Society of
Cluster Fuck Observers (SOCFO).
WAPOS. What a piece (pile?)
of shit. I knew a supply sergeant
who was stationed with Bart Starr’s father.
I worked at some interesting jobs.
I was stationed in
I was stationed at a SAC base
in
Our Profession. I went to college.
I was trained as an archeologist.
I dug up dead people.
John Bennett called me
Albino Grizzly. An old white person.
An irascible. My own paparazzo.
Now I’m Hardhat Snood,
a deepsea diver.
A hard-charger.
The salvage archeologist of
the Mall Builder culture.
A daily-typewriting writer.
Nixon gave his enemies a sword,
I give the Mall Builder culture an enema.
Sometimes I call myself Clyster Pump,
or Clyster Engine. I am not the chef, I am
the dishwash-ère. The plongeur.
Wear a plumber’s helper on your head
and go as a tube of Preparation H.