By The Guppy
Date: 15 June 1999
indentation of life
as if being lost is all that bad
unto the cookie cutter people go all the spoils...
though you know it's not right...
and you watch from the balcony as one more of your long lost friends tries to justify his position...
and the tar on your feet is just too heavy to haul...
and the bacon you ate for breakfast didn't really seem to do all that much for you...
but, we all must feed...
and the blank stares acquired bounce off you...
and the third party on your check no longer cares to admit it...
and sunlight does nothing more than make the lawn grow tall and overbearing...
and wincing only lets you know exactly why and where and how much it hurts...
and the only song you can sing is in the key of A minor, and that'll never work because it just makes you feel like you should be singing something a little more "jiggy"...
and your grandfather did it for sixty four years, why not...
and the tv cycles between reruns of unoriginal people playing typical roles and saying things that don't really need saying...
and the patriarch roars...
and your head falls low and your eyes widen...
and you research the best way to travel from one end of the room to the other, without touching the floor...
and your hands are dirty, but the gloves you wear are clean, so, who the hell cares?...
and you cheat a little bit while making that casserole because you lack the ground cumin the recipe calls for...
and you invested ten million dollars in birdfeeders, and now come to find that you can't afford to fill them...
and there's a birdseed shortage somehow tied to the fact that anwar sadat secretly sold opium to sophia lauren...
and the tabloids feast...
and you best friend, who had justified his position long before it become popular, takes you aside and says "that birdfeeder thing sucks, man...
told you so"...
and then bakes you a cake, but cheats on the recipe, and blames you because there is no brown sugar in the house...
and the bankers wife comes over looking for some kicks and holding that feared anvil of overdue loan payments above you...
and she asks if she may partake of the casserole...
she loves ground cumin...
and the phone keeps ringing just when you deparately need to make a call...
long distance...
longer wait...
and you look down, only to notice the effect of too many cheese logs...
and you always do look your best in black...
and your smile reminds you of somebody else...
and why bother to sit down when you can do it standing...
and all the curtains in the entire world seem to have been drawn...
and the morning rain you hear about is always better than the sun you live in...
and james taylor...
and you wonder why anyone would even bother to hold something agaist you...
and you take a turn for the better...
and you lost the only key you had...
and the new hand holds five aces, but, the dealer is still smiling...
and apples...
and you realize that fish are really quite honest creatures...
and you question that old saying...
and you never did think that carter was really a world leader...
and you wonder what it might be like...
and you struggle with the consequences...
and you do not disturb...
and you can't ever tell an angel by her breast size...
and you only speak when being ignored...
and you ignore...
and what you wouldn't give for a throat lozenge...
cherry...
and meteorologists...
and blacktop always smelled kind of nice to you...
and the nuclear plant is having landscaping done...
only six feet?...
and the toads are still "doing it", at least they serenade each other...
and the birds watch like the little feathered porn film directors they are...
and all the envelopes are somehow being pulled...
and the water isn't as blue as you recall...
and then you flush...
and ambidexterity was the topic of every conversation you've ever had...
and someone says "what's that?"
and you really know that a girl like that can only exist beyond your reach...
and you start dining exclusively on elastic...
and you keep forgetting who your prayers are directed at...
and you always always park in the same spot...
and sherbet can be spelled either way...
and pantomimes...
ludicrosity...
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