September 1998

"when i think about my last summer in new ulm, everything seems so idyllic" is the first line to my favorite movie the toilers and the wayfarers which few people can truthfully say they have matter of factually seen because it's one of those independent black and white jobbies where a lot of people speak in german and because it belongs in the classification of underappreciated art due to it being real and honest and too mature for society to handle correctly (see also mapplethorpe warhol and nabokov's lolita) but you really can't blame society for not being able to handle a nice boy meets boy story that's far less about sex than a story about humanity because as i've always said people are stupid and you can't blame their fathers for being wrong and choosing not to wear a condom just like you can't blame our forefathers for being wrong and choosing a democratic republic my country 'tis of thee and john dos passos doesn't live here anymore but my james my james joyce is alive and well and chained against his will in my very own basement which used to be haunted but now contains only my james my james joyce who nightly kneels before the holy altar of my television and spouts out a continuous stream of bea:u;tiful words words words while my altar is on mute and just last night he recited the text of l.a. confidential before eating his curry (we keep our pet well-fed) and falling unconscious and l.a. confidential is just one of those films where you can just picture little boys playing cops and robbers and extending their stubby little index fingers and shouting bang-bang : bang; bang and shooting kevin(jack) spacey(vincennes) right in the lung hear them laugh hear them shout hear them dance around their kill and see them waving their chubby little gun-hand handguns in their yelpcrashbanging style as they pop off a few more rounds into the air just like they do in the o-o-o-o-o-o-o-ld westerns only these cowboys don't have horseys and they're all going to have to answer to daddy as soon as he gets back from oz: rolo tomasi they ain't but baby momma loves you baby and daddy loves you too and maybe daddy won't be so harsh because oooooooo babe he's seen things and done things and had things done to him that you wouldn't believe (in a sade play they bring in the gardener but at oz they just bring in the warden) and you're just expecting (i know) everything to crescendo bigger and louder until finally everything peaks in one big firey orgasm and then wham the credits roll but that's not where my story ends oh no no no because sitting on a toilet in bridgeview illinois makes me wonder what i should have said to that cute young german tourist i caught staring at me as our elevator ascended to the press box of the united center or what i should have said to the random passerby as i walked the campus in evanston who took one look at me and thought i would look good in leather or what i should have said to the waitress who served me lunch who gets off work every night goes home and beats her only born son because he was finally strong enough to come to terms with his homosexuality and thought highly enough of his mother to be honest with her and right at this very moment that boy is blowing his brains out in front of his best friend chad - bang; bangbang, bang waving their chubby little gun-hand handguns in their yelpcrashbanging style so what can you say to the everyday peepholes you pass on the street what can you say to your best friend of thirty-one years when you finally discover that she's a man what can you say to your brother when fresh out of seminary he announces his engagement to your twelve year old cousin what can you say to the dean of admissions who likes to go home at night and have his six year old son spank him and what can you say to the love of your life who leaves you for a fifteen year old boy named zachary and what can you say to your good friend when he shows you his home page with a mapplethorpe quality artistic nude self portrait on it and what should i have said to that cute young german tourist i caught staring at me as our elevator ascended to the press box of the united center "er dachte, dass wenn nur eine eine zeitlang halten sollte, dann würde die andere einholen; dann seien die beiden froh; aber nein, das darf nicht sein; für sachen wie echte liebe, ist logik überhaupt von keiner folge" and i love it when i can write something that's true in a different language something that's Actually Interesting and Complex in a language that's not my own and i'm really really good at hurting people without knowing it i'm even good at hurting myself without knowing it and sooner or later it must come to the point that i hurt myself so often and so much that i just stop hurting doesn't it because you can only hurt so much and it just feels like sometime's i've hurt more than i should have to and after two nervous breakdowns (on my way to a third) and at the very least one ulcer i'm broken and faded and not half the boy i used to be but nobody knows i'm crazy and let me tell you sir that it's the worst thing in the world to be different you're so lucky to be just like everyone else you have no idea because being an individual is not all that the brochures say it is because i have become invisible no one knows me no one sees me and i watched you for a full hour you sexy san fransiscan and even though our guide took us into a black box theatre i was Always Imagining Controlled scenarios involving you me and nothing else at all and at the end of the day you're another day older and you've vanished without a trace but i was never there in the first place and it's times like this when you tell me you're going to move in together that i think i should be praying if i believed in any god

et anima mea turbata est valde et tu Domine usquequo

but of course no one can answer that question not even some god to whom i've never been formally introduced hello i saw you i know you i knew you i think i can remember your name but now bill's gone and they're not half the band they used to be kind of like me and sometimes i wonder that if i don't know who i am then why can't i be something i'm not and o lord how long do i have to wait because i've been waiting for seventeen years and though you've come close once and only once you've never delivered the package to my door i've even gone to the post office but the workers there don't even see me and they've never seen a package of that size so they can't help me and neither can god and though matt told me that it was all me i can't help myself any more than anyone else can so don't you dare try to blame me for what's happened to me it is not my fault i'm trusting it is not my fault i care it is not my fault i was too blind to see your hypocrisy and now look at what's left of me a broken mass a shade i've been deconstructed just like harry and woody allen and i have so much in common that it's scary but he likes new york and i like chicago and i so much want to be andy warhol because i saw his giant mao tse-tung at the Art Institute of Chicago and it was the most beautiful thing i had ever seen but no one understands that and that's why i'm so unattractive and why i'm all alone and it's a desert out there but no one responds to my columns except for people twenty-three years old so i can't figure out whether i'm more advanced than the norm or whether everyone else my age isn't advanced enough so it's only natural that once upon a time i thought about killing myself solely because i wondered who would attend my funeral and bang; bang; bang-bang waving their chubby little gun-hand handguns in their yelpcrashbanging style and i'll hang myself to-morrow

unless godot comes


mail me

look on my works, ye mighty

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