a slice of america the beautiful pt. 1

a seven legged dog walks past me solitary on my way to buy frozen pizza for a dollar fifty nine at the long line fluorescent gray of supermarket America with only marijuana and beer on my mind and breath. I cant figure out why the dog has seven legs but I’m sure there is a reasonable explanation for this. from evry open apartment window I hear the shouting of tv talk show hosts game shows and the corresponding scream from the excrement audience none wily none really there, only on tv and only coming out of open windows and closed minds. there is more to this phenomenon than we can ever comprehend. doctors dont make me better, drugs make me better, the information superhighway is more like an empty trailer park of dusty remnants of meaningless masquerading fuckery. blip blip sound bite byte bite bite byte bite. (im burning every dan brown novel tonight I can get my stringy fingers on). its a sandbar of isolation im sitting on and im damn pleased to be here with my thoughts, books laptop (or is it notebook) marijuana and naked Rimbaud dancing in my head with that damn seven legged dog from earlier attached to a spiked leash also attached and choking Rimbaud, as evidenced by the bulging neck pipelines about to burst and drown my delusions in poetic red.