PURE APPLE JACK
(CONJECTURED SUGGESTION)
Some days I sit around thinking
seriously that 'this will be my last
day on earth.' Do you or can you
have any idea what a queer feeling
that brings on? Trepidation. Fear.
Certainly not anticipation. I've
spoken to others who say such
feelings should bring great joy :
Meeting the Lord, going back to
the flock, and all that. Man oh
man that leaves me dragging.
-
Are we supposed to get such constant
premonitions about such other-worldy
things? I think not. (Rene Descartes,
sitting at a bar. The bartender comes
over and asks if he wants another.
Descartes says, 'I think not' - and
disappears). Does anyone get that
joke?
-
Oh, back to starters - I think, therefore
I am. Or, maybe, I 'think' I am? Some
woman once told me 'You write just
the way you talk.' That was at a Barnes
& Noble where I was reading some of
my stuff - running a small poetry group
as well. I said I didn't know of any other
way to get across my ideas.
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