a letter written in a king size bed by Matt Moseman
Matt Moseman December 28, 2009 at 1:21PM (wow four days of smoking weed and I am finally high and in love)
i am in a little bit of love for danielle
who sleeps so peacefully in our bed
which is really my bed
her money is in my lockbox
i gave her the key in an envelope
which i never use for writing home
or elsewhere
no one stays in one place fer long enough to get
a letter anymore
im afraid
i left a letter for mister Trimbur
the other day, i wonder if he got it
by now
i forgot today was wednesday
oh shit
now it's thursday
morning, and i will...break soon
i want to do this because i want
to stay here with her
because
our fates are dependant on this
and...even if she still WHATEVER YOU PIG
WOAH THEE SIR OR MADAM: DON'T INTERRUPT ME PLEASE
im trying to do something and I dont need... the sleaze you spit out disgusts me
and i dont need this pessimism
this constant discouragement
you--
go have another cigarette i dont care
youve had enough...to do you in
youve doused your skin with pretty nasty sins
with ropes and chains and knots and gags and slavery and manipulation
theft and artistry, con artistry, snake oil hawking,--
diceloading skank!
I love her;
hold her cash in my bank.
who could love such a creature?amagdalene a loser a castaway cast adrift;
drifter, lush, runaway, underachiever, throwaway dropout, niggerlover!
legsy strung-out junkie virago
a wrecker.; a wrecker in sheepskins
I have
let her in
i am in heat for this doe!
my musk leaps out at the smoke from the walls
and the smoke leaps back
not looking for a fight
my naturally occurring colognearoma is enveloping this third floor walkup world
and taking away from me my time
to do this letter
a mysterious sound--
i dont wannabe robbed of the magic of this partnership
it should strengthen me
increase my maturity
teach me to do dirty dishes, and to actually do them
to take a cold shower and actually take it without hesitation, surprise or gripes
i need to stop using the things i--i reach for as...crutches
I am a damned fucking fine vessel for the... bull god
And O My SATAN Shes Facing me, her eyes opened--
I Swear, she...saw my gaze upon her
does she know how long i waited for her to fall asleep so i could do this?
she doesn't dare figure that far; the computer
spits itself up to speed
on some autoscan fixation--I am beyond
enthusiasm; i am ashamed and gleeful that it is sure to awaken her,
she is surely annoyed at me but at least she feels someway
it's better than being a... crutch--
or worse, a mark,
a Sow,
FUCK FUCK FUCK
STOP STOP what
damndamndamndamn
O how I truly have everything
to save, or to lose
i am rising like the morning star
but i crash down as close to hell as i dare
skimming my beak in the waters of the lethe
SHUT THE FUCK UP WINTERMUTE
II, or whatever your name is,
you are not an acknowledged sovereign occupant!
however much Turing would like to see that happen
in a way this task is sort-of a turing test for me
to see if i can compute and come off as the real deal
to see
if all that junk in my forehead is worth consideration as an equal
or if i am just trapped inconsolably in my own little world
a world in which, as they have ascertained,
things tend to work radically differently--
they ascribe little value to me
if i cannot be a straight line through the slits like the good electron under observation
i am more
of a hazy wave pattern so far as the weeks before the break
i loafed around too much
and now look where i am
i am very short on time
i am fucking my own reputation in the ass
i am making crazy deals with myself which i won't keep
obviously, i am unbalanced:
obviously something in short-circuiting;
'do your work' just doesn't register
i say and think and write the words but they are so ineffectual,
Time is better spent squandered!:any other way
is my apparent conception
which would not have been what I would have thought
would be my conclusion after this time
i am basically telling fairy tales
and wearing a shit-eating grin,
and it is just so purely vile.
but my affection, and affinity with the girl is wonderfully pure, just pure
it is like real spring water, not from a bottle, but
from the place pictured on the water bottle, only if it were real
we could drink it with our cupped hands
and we could drink it... innocent--
well...not quite
too many marby reds for that
more than half a carton
approaching four packs a day between us
and a slice of bud
Hot sam says that too
slice for eighth
just called...an eighth
where i ever heard it
always a quarter, and never a fourth
if u know what ur saying--
i mean no one whos damn well worth it
can really be saying that they are chill if they ever try to say 'fourth'; that
would be a cop,
or just a kid who got so high
as to call the cops--
there are plenty of those.
Reader Comments (5)
dear Mr Moseman
much worthiness in this monologue
feels a bit like being on a Sam Beckett stage
nice poeming
silent lotus
tighten this spew up and see where it ends up, I was ready to read it, but half way through, I didn't necessaryily give up, but lost interest. I get it you love her and it pisses you off, I get it.
i knew you'd love "diceloading skank!/I love her/hold her cash in my bank" SL
"it is like real spring water, not from a bottle, but
from the place pictured on the water bottle"
was my highlight. You are a nasty genius.
I am so looking forward to your getting more and more jaded.