Written by American Work Mule on May 7th, 2012
Here we go again travel tip… when jetting on Spirit aboard an a/320 may I suggest sitting in seat 30c … near the rear lavoratory with the ever swinging door… There you can watch like the lottery winner you are.. 150 plus people play a game of musical chair or impending incontinence…. pure entertainment… for just the price of a ticket..
As a bonus round you can get high as a kite from the wafting..off of the swirling blue chemical cloud.. morning mist…
if you are extreamly lucky a 4 year old little boy with ringlets for hair will be jumping up and down like a jack in the box in a seat nearby and throwing a my way tantrum…
You may watch as his mother performs the attempt to sooth the child with yet another dose of refined sugar in the processed apple juice…
I suspect if poured over the head with ice would have the desired effect of snappleing him out of it. I wonder if Jacking off in the lavoratory at 30,000 feet would qualify one to become a member of the mile high club.
Such decorum in travel these days… where is my pipe , bedroom slippers and pajamas….
J.
Jacking off in the lavoratory at 30,000 feet..
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Written by American Work Mule on May 7th, 2012
A jumbo box of condoms sits atop a table top…
A curiosity … a week passed… not a word spoken..
Then a platinum blonde arrived the same age as Madonna..
Her young native lover in tow.. some may construe as naughty..
She remarked an excuse about suffering a blow to the head once…
and memory loss.. She was fretting the box likely did not contain enough… so sad..
Long live Libido.. as frogs hop by on the forest floor… gather round wont you the bug light
is on…
What is good for the goose is good for the gander… by appearances…
J.
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Written by American Work Mule on May 7th, 2012
Convoluted thinking… am I looking west when I should be looking East… Towards a new form of writing…. “SELF IMAGE.. “IT LIVES ALONE IN ITS LITTLE WORLD OF MEMORY AND SELF CONCERNS… I quote… Vernon Dvorak…. Im having a hell of a time with this spanish key board… sorry.. I edge out on the limb an increment further… do you see flashing teeth when others speak question mark….
would a slide show of my life run forever over and over or just until the electricity stopped… ths the recreation i am amongst in real time .. as they say… moths the size of hummingbirds… a little unobtrusive finch picking seeds off a blade of grass he or she no quetzaquatal bird… non the less.
J
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Written by American Work Mule on May 7th, 2012
From a moldy record album jacket or cover in a dream… The past in print is seen..
Viewed by someone in the future, but not as of yet.. maybe even never…
Witnessed..The words of a song Oh Divine Redeemer… chime in my mind..
The wakeing thought this Rewards never come from waiting….
I sip coffee in some present comfort… for buying ahead a package of it…
An exercise in reasoning I suppose… or the like of an Aesop fable..
J.
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Written by American Work Mule on April 29th, 2012
Looking deeper into the face of the seeming…
Beneath facade…
Thin as paint lies what is real, bare steel.
and
contepmtious earth… earth that shatters at picks end and falling into granules…
Hard though she may appear with a crust man sinks his talons into her and clings for dear life , cliffside..
With true ocean views.. and if you care to look and maybe stay awhile.. perched ….
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Written by American Work Mule on April 29th, 2012
I am happy I lugged the juicer down:
One big fat carrot =´s a tall shot glass… I have an idea to experiment with some green medalions..
Wasps are feasting on the blood or contents of the flys
what this hunger holy man…..
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Written by American Work Mule on April 29th, 2012
With no love: with no love of a certain kind…
no offense to the unconditional variety…
what did not exist does now… but not two bloody flys
well… exception is for the chosen few, its religion .. face it
find your own… who wants a refund…
just ask the two bloody flies dead as of this morning.
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Written by American Work Mule on April 29th, 2012
Holding Hands we recover the gift… where it emerges is unknown as of yet…
further away further away…………. J
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Written by American Work Mule on April 29th, 2012
On the back of the big blue morph… wings beating… beating… beating… into the wind created by the waterfall
making a ground track… sunlight reflecting off winged
back…..
J.
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Written by American Work Mule on April 29th, 2012
Bo Bo’s father is chained just behind the coded security gate:
He bites at will, I am told, he allowed me to pass… Tttttthank you..
Nanook of same kin with shiney coat clean and cared for…
This is a family of dogs that roams at will in the night…
So good luck… would you like the gate code…
J.
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