Saturday, February 11, 2006

we were all holed up in the blessed Eagle Manor Motel somewhere in a western Penn's Wood against a light rain like poetic and patient drug addicts. Clasping a bottle of Mad Dog 20/20 I was slowly falling in love all over again and counting my pills in their noisy celliphane-3 green, 1 brown. i watched as an entire dental office staff fell on the carion of the Pabst thirty pack in the dull glow of a convenience store that seeped through the windows. i think i remember fire alarm, house keeping, homoerotic performance art, broken sleep. a door was kicked open by the ghost of alcoholism. i was lecturing on the anthropological importance and use of the atl atl to this blonde girl with new pages and aviator shades.

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