tarantula

the tarantula humbles gently in the upscale new York town square of mistakes and rimbauds and acquaintances what do they do there is their own doing yet I do not yet see what can be done in the railway bends and the shopkeeps doors and the drug addicts eyelids and the false accords. don't believe what you hear on the radio for it will fool you beyond belief and in fact or fiction when you can stand up still in the moment everything else falls down around you and your stuck on a blog writing to gawd knows who about things that don't make sense while your belly gets fat and trim and ready for plucking for no fucking about cats and dogs when you look in the mirror one day and decide to shoot yourself in the leg because it will be the only trade for humanity you have left in the world by the book of almighty lord jesus amen. and on that mercenary note my friends let them take what they will about delusions and misinterpretations about basketballs and baseball games and finding flukes where you put your money where your mouth is and oh other aphorisms of the sort.