JUST A PILGRIM ON THE
JOURNEY FROM ARKANSAS
I'll stand where I stand, and you shut the
fuck up. OK? No more digitalis, no more
taking sides. Here, the flatlands prosper, and
all sorts of crazy things may grow. Then they
put a new building up, and bye bye meadow.
-
Look at that girl by the center. She has an
amazing shape, no? She makes me so hungry
without knowing where to go. I want to be
something here, but I never get the chance.
Watching her walk into the IHOP in the
plaza, it seemed like a dance. I was tight
and I was mesmerized too.
-
A Sunoco Station, and Falcon Music Supply,
another store for budding geniuses. Is that what
brought me here? I forget the rest. Three kids in
that old Pontiac (where'd they get that?), eating
their MacDonald's that their Mother just bought.
Is there an age-minimum for kids at the counter
buying their own smack-food? Addictive bullshit,
french fries to the head, salted machete-burgers
with crazy desserts eaten first? Get me out of here,
you naked nurse? Oh, sorry, that's the kids' mother.
-
So in passing through Arkansas I see nothing much
but a glut : pig farms, high grasses, a marijuana store,
(are they most everywhere now?), and a Munchies
Factory Pic N' Pay. Nice tie-in, they must make out
real well. What else are they going to say though,
'Pic N' Go?' To have to pay first, I suppose. Kids
running off through the forest with five bags of
yodels to go?
-
I won't stand on this label forever. You're
one creepy jerk, you know? And - no -
I don't have a return address.
Not even a stamp.
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