oh janey put a cork in it, no I want to talk

Janey says “yeah .. some drawings I picked up ..” she’s at the drawing exchange you show cheap evocative fast but knife cutting in good expression got from years of suffering never think you’re going to survive then bring it all together show it in drawing be happy, almost, so get photos taken scan, your record checked on how honest you are how many years of suffering you put in, and then, even more past that can you fucking hang on, MORE, you want more? and do a little dance, or do the person evolved from art, stinking art, tell your lies there, or tell your truths there, but never tell it in the actual person.  “I can’t, I need another being in the actual person.  or something like that./ hold me, let me say what the face cannot say, let it shake, so rapid we think we’re losing fat from antiquated machine vibrate me vibrate my brain no be careful hold me to your breast never let me come up draw back stare at you form anything/ the human can’t, let me in my art here/ other places I just pose, even unconscious I’m not so stiff, mannered, fucking board with nails moveable sticks for arms stick a needle in, old oak, new sapling, we are liver lovely old powder pills old bag c’mon baby, young 19, hit the wrong road, wrong man, we have books, press him into books each night, like leaves, along lane, to my happiness/ voop vogue paste gloss photo my ass vaseline he’s wasted he’s rough wing it young girl he reads is not impressed lies is impressed button happy guns sewing machines machine guns of revolution breakfast cereal we have nice house linger in gleam sunshine I love life .. convulsion pretty bright day come orgasm her revelation chap or reveal leather station of pose excitement she wants more from sticks play as child words in forest sticky pig your gun distant bang men hunting years later bang cock stipple grunt sapling malevolent kind level eyes aircraft carrier whooshe feelale sell beer tend bar no literary station words, strop fair blade, shave, vagem. You spoil sprinjlle with jail didnyts moit5urized spit,. Yiour rhythms girl, wheel invent, fsctiry, I come back, artrsenal lick scasral some siome more widening peace of shit me, shame, shift in masturbayion, do thst a litt;e”

What youAh shit, we moreconvedrse now sit with people later here you lnow, canlt, canlt say annythig, lost the gift for gasbagb see it all so stummerandard “my mind messy resed up is hidden spell some close to what wer need.  I psy no sttemtion a lot don’t.  To it.  I just gab away scabs peeling advertise away smooth skin fsce canlt see the scabs of manifactirers stickers on bike eoll on ladt deodorant road wounds just about desd person, or make whst’s inside intio somethuig view me safe original none now, yeah I talk a good little;e but I’d like to try to make whsts insude m,e into a little now.”

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//

So all for that writing here move on onto this here janey sits at table has got her money paycheck simple drawings but by her hand scraggly signature ah a bit more “see me, love me, let me draw back my face from yours, we can’t always hug and whatever else, I don’t want to look at you during coitus, courtship, rail fast too soon, plunge, jump from cliffs, water, lottery ad, “swimming pool” exotic vacation, with you, fuck no, lover” piece it all together, make a life “I rush to make love” “not talk” I don’t know how to talk, I rush to make love to clothing, anything cash buys, I keep busy I don’t notice the time going by, you’d have to be pretty strange to notice any of that.

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And get us to, out here, see your damn fast scrawls a million years of pain damn fast scrawls, show me some more.

Never let me know what it is, so there’s a huge 90,000 page book, ranch, city, alien city? My brain inside, my life, I don’t look at don’t want to see yore poem anyurs either me eric or you.  Just sdhw me the outide lap waves pictures intelscritumcuntpucs no sensxe.  This is damn fine illustration of nothing with barely scratched messages from inside, boy.  This is a real person.

You did good, now go away with the rest.  There is no rest.// walks away, man, buyer, wart ofart collectuir, walks away.  Strange boy actual,ly developed the re4st actually had a handle on the what yopu rest.  All our art was thought to be tham good enough oie, just hunts hints wink st the insde.  We were satisfied.  But not naughty him.  He wemt further and got dirty before he got clean.  Whst is it?  Dinlt shiw me.  A little scraps here blommmy balmy dayg dog internet show me thst huge other world peace worked to slow show me a little sometimes thst huge place dicker bargain/The other what I’ll tell youI never heasrd you talkg about.

So those drawings there yeah looks like girl riding a guys cock anything say anything after it all sleazy loving, “the sleazy loving hotel” 105 of them across the nation, /ah to sell drawings, be an artist, ah been through the rigmarole, the wringer, ring my doorbell dingdong wake up after all these years, meditation, situation, mental illness, hope, // death of both parents, mom to cancer in 2002, dad to Parkinson’s in 2013, this year, August 9^th, it’s now November 1^st, /so some .. 3 months later, oh barely getting back on my feet, seeing without stars in my eyes, like punched, not my dad’s fault, this is life, but gradually oh the wind whistling outside today, cold day, or no, fairly warm, like stormy, disturbed, I still did meditation this morning, a big job, the hours and hours into it, recover, maintain stability, oh what a life, any of us can say .. /but many little things, years of experience into art, but years of disappointment, not having big shows, not having any shows, sensing “there’s something more” never getting to it, then in catastrophe, oh, my parents dying, and sifted in there, even more catastrophe than that, storms, intersecting, broken, broken me, oh, looking after both my parents, helping, but behind the scenes, what’s my life, where’s my life, tossed turned, ah each of us “has too much” “too much to handle” do you do it, not too much addictions? Ah I had smoking, cigarettes, quit some time after my mom’s death, helping her with meditation, she got into it, very ill, hard time to start, I helped her, and continued with it after her death, it helped me, a sad gift, from her to me, her presence, her bravery in it, passed on to me ..

So yes, all this.  Sense of as drawing what to say in scrawled thick marker words .. are they pertinent, mean anything at all, cut to true meaning, it takes years and years to do that, this whole thing, freedom in it, but precision, this whole thing ..

Really, all of us, after death, had a career, didn’t have a career, what did your life mean, ready to work on it now?

Ha, no.  Each of us really vying for that though.  Would really love to.

You’d love to at the end, just have a beginning there, important things, many older people have that, I just know enough about things, to start now.  And me, cancelled out, died long ago.  And just to start now.