Tuesday, November 26, 2013


[1] The Update is not ‘finger clicking good’—it sucks;

[2] The Update looks like bubblegum anime sunny saccharine happy meal icons;

[3] I recoil until I end up pulling a muscle in my pleasure center;

[4] This development creates a 15 percent sense of pleasure, on one side, all day long…;

[5] …To the extent that I begin to resent right-sided pleasure;

[6] I wonder, instead, about pleasure registering 14 percent and lower—there, in the realm of ‘low pleasure’ (I reckon) a person may dwell;

[7] One example of a ‘low pleasure’ might include the arrival, finally!, of the subway—not the subway itself (which sucks!) but the fact of its arrival;

[8] There’s a chance, therefore, that I’ll be ferried to my destination but in a herky-jerky besieged noise polluted intercom fritz replete with nasty burning smell, i.e., it is Decay;

[9] Decay and Update share certain characteristics, in fact, Decay and Update might meet on the Continuum, where an erosion of systems may abut an erosion of services;

[10] Are there issues?, there are issues, what’re the issues?, the issues could be remedied by an Update, or the issues could be relegated to Decay;

[11] I decide to go for a pint;

[12] I alight in a pub where a patron orders a craft beer, pays with a 10, receives no change, and the beer arrives in a nine ounce ‘goblet’, not a sixteen ounce pint glass;

[13] (Omitted owing to superstition);

[14] I leave the pub;

[15] O, the lonesome city at sunset, O, the lonesome city;

[16] What’re my options?—Hostility?, Casual Modesty?, Impeachment of Liberal Values?, A Life Lived in Error?, Creating and Enduring Blockages?;

[17] I eliminate Casual Modesty, I eliminate A Life Lived in Error, I eliminate Hostility, but I cannot choose between ‘Impeachment of Liberal Values’ and ‘Creating and Enduring Blockages’;

[18] My mind drifts, I think about Clint Eastwood, I think about Blondie, I think if they’d ever gotten married they’d have been Dirty & Debbie Harry;

[19] Many forces act upon my body: gravity pulls me downward, but the moon pulls me upward, I always know where the moon can be found in the daytime sky;

[20] I used to be 5’11”, I’m now 5’10” and a half, but I think I could still find love.


Heather Fuller said...

How, after all, does one befriend a polar bear family? To update a status once meant something filled with gravitas, a degree of awe, as in 'the update is an upgrade to critical,' for one recently downgraded from guarded to grave. That is a, one may say 'providential,' life event, whether for antarctic explorer or polar bear cub -- not that I don't appreciate the occasional 'OMG the kitten is so cute' status update. (Well, not really.) So what in the world was my point? I reckon it was that I clicked thru to 'blog' 'post' but found 20 lines heralding a new kind of poem ('a degree of awe').


i shld point out that step 11 in most 20 point processes involves a decision to swill the pint. shld one be so lucky to swill the tripel -- as me and english iii were -- one wld lose one's point, too, as we did, sitting there, swilling the tripel. one curls one's arm around the tripel, as to fend off other tipplers of the tripel. what's that old story, goldilocks and the tripel bears? but i digress. i gots the bottlecap as a fine memento! ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------BA