Tuesday, March 6, 2012

Plasma and blood

From the looks of her, she seems to be busy, actively sitting at a plaza Starbucks® with an Apple® computer, a smart phone and a bag full of notebooks and paperwork with pictures of x-rays, medical literature, studying in a coolly lit hallway with blank orange walls along a hallway with three small tables with six small chairs packed tightly together against the opposing wall where hang three medium sized metallic-gold framed pictures with smudged panes for glass containing rustic water-color cafes painted or printed, suspended in white space within the frame.  She scans the little lines busily, shifting between taking brief sips of black focus in a black leather jacket.  Her slim frame, shrew face, and unkempt blonde hair betray her excessive state of nervousness.  Just like that she packs up to leave, jamming things here and there into her pink leather purse that serves well to contrast the otherwise Dior® demeanor that hangs tightly against her other shoulder.  She quickly scans under the table for anything else might be left behind before she scuffles out the backdoor, leaving behind a crumby table and chairs out of whack for someone else to clean up after her wake.
               To be certain…Egads! What an absurd crisis!  All that can be derived for certain is the discomfort in my belly and what food is at hand to solve this problem of filling the gap.  Who’s in charge of the thermostat? Certainly not Palestine! Who? Overpower!  Oh Jewish God, do scramble my eggs and scatter my brain seed along the shared path of trampling underfoot.  Let me feel my weakness in a public place like a derelict.  All that can be felt for certain is that a bone in hand needs be buried (in the mire, in the muck, somewhere outside Vietnam).
               “Porque de tal manera amo Dios al mundo, que ha dado a su Hijo unigenito, para que todo aquel que en el cree, no se pierda, mas tenga vida eternal.” Juan 3:16
               It is truly absurd to believe that anything exists for certain.  Beyond validation, beyond proof, beyond the great beyond and into the tabula rasa, virgin youth, only good once for the novelty thereof, the untamed and distemperate assholes despoil an entire degeneration of firstborn sluts, whores, and prostitutes good to go after a perineum flushing bidet of environmental hazards, me and my gun. [Sandanista Sandbagger, FSLN Ortega, Daniel]
               Holy of holies, bag of bags, multiple of multipliers, an army of tools invade, wielders come to tighten the titans of spunk, waxing chthonic labiae in the name of science by seeing, doing, and experiencing the only shoe way of knowing nothing about everything. [N. Korean human centipede marching 6th]
               Ingratiating pollsters, popular statisticians face the fact, that in order to be surprised, there must be a question to ask, although in retrospect, I suppose I knew that to begin with, (confusing a priori with a posteriori) so I wouldn’t be surprised anyway by anything, looking froward to an unexcitingly romantically quixotically repast of laurelling in the stymied wallow of invertebrate live-in decisions of longing agoathabite, narcotic curd of yak, yeti, and ytterbium. [Churning Chalmers’ 70]
               Herniated hallmarks, leaky plumbing, burst pipes in the wall, amazing grace of mice, plastic bags as water traps, another housing project is condemned to be unpreserved, especially as preservation itself involves a certain dryness and sterility in keeping or high fructose in jamming Smuckers® full of favorites. [Spongebob’s best burger, dated, spoiled rotten.] Dish I would love to death to eat every day, so why don’t I marry it like an addiction to gravy, key to a man’s heart disease.
               Fun ticket Clark and the National Lampoon’s Family Vacation, easily came and easily went astray.  Moral: exclusivity is only a remark.  I could leave this place at any time, but I promise I won’t.  Poverty is the blessing that holds me to it.  Mercantilism is still a debate set on the gold standard of quidnunc, now that the redistribution is settled near the libertine figurine, statue of torches raising the real red banner of plasma and blood.  I was going somewhere with this...

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