3132. SO TO RAISE THE HACKLES

SO TO RAISE THE HACKLES

...And pump the fucking post, mail the water
in hats, generate the overflow which winds
up in the gutter. Where the rubber meets
the road. It's two-twenty-nine, I see, and
yet again the old guy is sitting there reading
the newspaper from Trenton : "Man screws
rubber ducky hidden in child's hand! Three
scrawny cops in whorehouse scam! High
school proms run amok!" It's almost
always the same - all those high crimes
and misdemeanors in a ten-year-old's
game. I merely note the time of day
to show : nothing ever changes, and
we are - ever - all the same.
(No, no, I take it back. They
can all go to Hell!).