9332. I SIMPLY DON'T CARE ANY LONGER FOR ANYTHING AT ALL:
Like what city would talk and what's talk anyway but evasion and who listens - these were the notions I thought of as I watched the cars go by seemingly as twisted and fractured as any piece of stupid truth they'd ever heard attempted to be spouted by some nincompoop strolling by (hey! I thought - if cities could talk why not cars listen) and all the years of understanding are gone by the boards anyway and why is it that for so many years the old lumps which were cars were once designed with carved clay full-size models and all we got were huge flabby rectangles besotted with silly fins or indentations and ostentatious lights and now that we've got computer-aided designs networks all of a sudden of some mass-produced great light have come on and we get produced the swoops and swirls of some design-cheese factory bringing forth the embodiment of modern-day sleek - kind of just like what ONCE was the super-headquarters of the You Benighted Nay Shuns before me but go figure that one out for yourselves because every time I talk back there's another ass-sniffing hound who won't talk to me or shuts me off or turns me out like some bad beef at a barbecue from Hell and the fact of the matter is 'I simply don't care' any longer FOR ANYTHING and the mouths of babes can utter what they wish but it's still shit from the mouths of babes - see - that never changes and the far-seeing God who's exited the scene a long long time ago may just now again be rehearsing in the wings and if that's so I'm with HIM for sure but the world's a bum place and Manhattan wears the mantle of something other than that though I'll never know surely what it is - bread shops on the Grand Concourse simple bookstores along the way and Grand Central Station filled with misers and miserable thieves everyday but (SHOULD I AWAKE one day and find myself blind) I'll still saunter along to wherever I find the nice things to model and the kind of entwined mass-malaria that settles the score FOR Hell's a base Heaven and they've OPENED the door !! woolly mammoths seeking to be heard line-force doctorates leaning towards third magnificent fulcrums drubby and hollow master mechanics learning to swallow EVERYTHING once known is striving for presence and countless man-hours lost still manage to stage the production of something with every new name BUT the more things change the more they STAY the same !! and then the interviewer came up to me and said "what do you think?" and I managed to utter some words of doubt to lessen the stink but he took out a wedge-shaped malodorous word and shoved my head down struggling to be heard - I finally shouted - "Thomas Edison's dead and his West Orange plant has been shuttered and closed for rebuilding but that's OK by me since I've already seen it but to make matters worse since I once knew his nurse they threw us all out of LLewelyn Park too when all that we wanted was to admire the view!" and the guy said back to me "is that one L or two?" and I sniggered a bit and went right to my work and said back to him (for all it was worth) "merry tidbits to all and to all a good fight ! and the cow ran away with the goon" and then I began thinking what I really wanted and I realized it was but to be alone and to sit by the river's edge with my hair shorn short and no wind in my face and to lessen the evil and save the disgrace I'd stay there for days on end taking space but all for the reasons of all LOVE and GLORY for I've been places NO ONE else has seen and how can you (really) go on with the simple life when you've been to the moon and the planets (I mean) what else really is there to see?