I'm going to rewrite Pablo Neruda poems for the reading.
I'm going to the reading because Tao said it would get me on Gothamist. It is going to get me on Gothamist so I'm coming.
A reading has at most like twenty people there.
Gothmanist has like 65,000 a day.
I'm not going to pretend it matters.
Readings don't matter to me. I like readings in New York City because I like having dinner with Chapman and meeting people i met online.
That's all.
It doesn't sell books.
So I'm not going to read my stories like it matters.
I'm going to read Pablo Neruda poems.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines Tonight I can write the most pathetic lines.
Write, for example,'Nina doesn't like me
because I'm a skeezy dishwasher.'
My ulcer bleeds and my hemmorroids have
swelled to an enornmous size.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
I love her, and she doesn't like me because
I suck.
Through nights like this I masturbated alone
to the saddest internet porn.
I stared at her from the dishtank like
a creepy weirdo.
She talked to me sometimes, and I loved her too.
But how could one not have loved those great nervous eyes.
Tonight I can write the stupidest most self-loathing lines.
To think that I do not have her. That she would rather date
an electrician and not a skeezy dishwasher.
To hear the immense night, still more immense without her.
And the cum falls to the carpet like dew to the pasture.
What does it matter that my love makes her laugh.
The night is shattered and she is not with me.
This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance.
My dishwasher soul is not satisfied that it does not have her.
My sight searches for her as though to go to her.
My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.
The same night whitening the same trees.
Maybe if I start going to a votec she will like me.
I love her, that's certain, but people scare
the shit out me.
My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing.
Another's. She is another's. Having lame sex with another.
Her bright body. Her infinite eyes.
I want to touch her naked flesh, that's certain.
Love is so short, if she is playing hard to get
it has been going on too fucking long.
Because through nights like this I am so alone
my soul is not satisfied.
I got to keep moving, I got to keep moving
Blues falling down like hail, blues falling down like hail
Mmm, blues falling down like hail, blues falling down like hail
And the day keeps on remindin' me, there's a hellhound on my trail
Hellhound on my trail, hellhound on my trail
Every day you playEvery day you walk around the restaurant saying sarcastic comments.
Panic attack girl, you arrive in the flower and the water.
You are like a hopeless puddle of self-loathing and anxiety
as a cluster of fruit, as a shattered soup cup.
You are on the few people I work with
that don't get on my nerves.
Let me spread you out among yellow garlands.
Now we played it on the sofa now
we played it side the wall
My needles have got rusty babe
they will not play at all
Suddenly the wind howls and bangs at my shut window.
The rain takes off her clothes
My little friend
named Patricia found
a baby hawk
with a broken wing today
she put the bird in a cage
and the cat killed it
Patricia cried
she only knew the bird
for eight hours
The wind. The wind.
The storm whirls dark leaves
and turns loose all the boats that were moored last night
to the sky.
You are here. Oh, you do not run away.
You will answer me to the last cry.
Cling to me as though you were frightened.
Even so, at one time a strange shadow ran through your eyes.
She got a phonograph
and it won't say a lonesome word
She got a phonograph
ooo-won't say a lonesome word
What evil have I done
or what evil have the poor girl heard
I want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees.
I want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees.
I want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees.
I want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees.
I want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees.
I want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees.
I want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees.
I want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees.