DREAM LAST NIGHT

Guy was jerkin' off to some dream that he had of both of us, and then he came all over the window, and then it dripped on me. That's why I called 'im a fuckin' asshole- when I knew the dreams were supposed to have an explicitly sexual content. We were in the hallway of some school, like Bartow Elementary. 

He was breakin' the rules of the game to be jerkin' off to me because he was doin' it without my awareness. And then it dripped on me from the window sill, he came out the window. I was offended that he would pull out his dick in front of me like that. 

It was that guy Joseph, that older black guy from the Mental Health Court. 

1. ....

2. ....

3. ....

4. How the Earth loved us before we ever loved it.

....

These were certain points a worker must acknowledge before he's allowed to do work, according to Catherine Grace.

'Nightbird hey I can see very far 

(Ride on)

Light my way I don't need them anymore 

(Ride on)

Guide me on out of here, find a door

(Ride on)

Nightbird stay

Night comes on all wrong'

'Get your clothes on so that when I tell everybody that they have someone to meet in the next world, they'll have somethin' decent to meet with.'

David Smith and I met in the Oglethorpe Mall and he was returning a book, a biography of Shakespeare + his plays, to me that he said he borrowed, askin' me what book he could borrow next. 

He knocked over my bowl of Diet A & W Root Beer, and it started fizzing everywhere. I said, 'You dumbass, you knocked it over! What are you doing?!' He ran over there and picked it up. I was about to put it back on my desk. 'If this spills again, I'm gonna be pissed off!'

 

I was listening to Tim Kile's CD, except he didn't sing the songs himself; he wrote them, but he got another artist to sing them. They were songs about livin' in Iowa among the cornfields. On one of the songs, he collaborated with a six-year-old artist. The artist who sang Tim's songs said he could go into a movie theatre, listen to the song, kill everybody else with a gun or commit suicide, and he would be the six-year-old murderer. 

I listened to the music. The music was beautiful, complete with soaring melodies.  

Me and my mom were in Iowa. I asked her if she would hold on to the end of my blue sweat shirt while I pulled it off. She was watching the interview with that artist who sang Tim's songs. He had blue eyes and blonde hair. He looked just like that guy Chris from St. John's. 

I asked my mom if she was ready to make the ride home. It was already night and we'd have to drive for several hours past nightfall to get home to Georgia.

I was looking through a catalogue and they were offering free tools for different trades. One of the categories was for music, and they were offering to give away one free oboe and one free clarinet. There were some other categories, like sports and automotive. They were arranged in a circle on the page. 

Then I was talkin to some girl outside of some restaurant. My mom was drivin' us home. We'd eaten dinner with her. She had blonde hair. I said, 'Do you mind if I get your Facebook name? Are you on Facebook?' She gave it to me, it was something like 'HisMercy247.' Then she got into her car and drove off into the night.

'Living with Gatling Guns, in contrast to every heavy stone thrown.'

-

These are embarassing, but I have to admit, I would rather you read them than you didn't.