This is not an example of your lassitude for consensual decision-making

*****

Hey kid, the corner of the computer corral at the library does not make you invisible and you cannot cop a squat there. I know you're three and have the intermediate Pampers on, but still . . .

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Dude to my left making audible your appreciation for Pop Lock and Drop It - Fuck the heck what? You're older than I am. Don't wear the headphones and mime the motion in public. Do it in your apartment on Dakota and Cottage, overhead the bar where I watched Barry do that thing and dropped eight ball bankshots over lots of green felt to earn myself another $1 (!! - take that cost of living) pint of Leiny's, and if you don't have MTV don't make up for at the library, which as everyone knows, is for registering a new post on your blog and getting out of the heat during your daily miles long amble through the streets, culminating in windowshopping in the Sinclair Lewis-inspired downtown region.

*****

Mosquito, hearken back to your eggsac, where, as a nubile young spreader of malaria, you dreamed of my forearm - brown and tender, leading to the extremely thin wrist - or else

bring quick, unsparing death upon yourself.

*****

Current summertime = the epitome of laissez faire. Check the eggs and bacon breakfasts, the consumption of two French Press quarts of coffee before noon while reading Denby's take on romantic comedy genre in New Yorker, the baseball-viewing and videogame slaying of big game at the bar, the short game improvement sessions at the course, etc etc. And time crawls on, beating against the endless rows of corn that stretch in perfectly linear rows and streak toward the vanishing point of whatever horizon your eyes happen to take in.