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alright... the conclusion of my last column. well, look no further. it's not here here yet here yet. I'm not through with that mess - know why? I've had lemon peels crawling along my left arm-in groups of 7, shootin' their own juice at the people in the car beside me while I was stopped in the middle of a yellow traffic signal beside Rte. 47, and the other: an unknown dirt road intersection- from toy water pistols, screaming 'left-left-left-left' 'spit-spit-spit-spit'-'right on-right on-right on-right ON!"-- in unison, no less AND in a sgt carter marching tone and to make matters better, there's those imprints of calender numbers under and around the elbow-part of my right arm-in no particular order except going the opposite way, upside-downwards. yea and there were those holidays that were mispronounced when they were supposed to be announced unexpectedly, intentionally. and there were the 500 and (count em) 4tee3 bowls of saladstains () that I hadta rub into and onto the walls and woodwork. I considered calling it one montrous mess, but I used one of those 'womens' pergatory (perogative) things and renamed it: re-decorating. yea! well, then there was also all kinds of wishes I was making come true plus I entered myself into a 'counting monopoly money on the advertised-side of the popcorn-boxes quiz', and that also meant don't leave out the play-pieces: take-a-chance, go to hell ..err. jail cards and o, I hadta make sure the gameboard-edges crinkled along the slum areaS of Baldic ave--craziest game I've ever participated in--UNless, I misunderstood the rules...but, I've also received flyshit sealed in envelopes addressed to a buncha wrong people with written-over names and I have no clue as to who they are, what they are or where and if the same flyshit came from where it normally does or from the beak of a bird or if it's going to other people called: people. o, but I love those glamour-gals...anyone remember those little huzzies? huh? well, anyway, it's been a bad-assed cruise and forgodsake and I'm glad I'm tangled on top of it all. and those are my excuses. I bet you couldn't make up ones like those if Hitler hadya branded for a gas camper tag. send money orders ONLY in an undisclosed amount and I'll do it for you...IF the price is right...don't copy my shit, damn you'se!..it's my life that makes me say these things the right yaw...yAyyaYaya...and on we go:
well, you all know I love me and it's not like I don't reveal everything but for once, yes, I did said: 1ce (?!HAHahhaa!?) I'd like to advertise myself along with a few others I have met lately. so here's a little of what's been goin' on that I am most utterly proud of:
also, Saturday past (4.8.00), I traveled to Baltimore's Enoch Pratt Free Library. there was an open reading. I went up to the second floor where the reading was held. there were about, o, 35 people there. several came up to me and asked (as well as others) "are you a poet?" I said, "I don't know yet, maybe you can decide for me after I read my shit."
you can visit Lyn Lifshin's website at www.lynlifshin.com 'til we meAT again...lalaaLAlalaa.. wet ones, y'all. I LOVE me (first -then) you! 
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**I do not believe in fantasies**
I am a monster
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BIO |
*program note: misrepretation and/or illimination and/or illumination or any maneuvers, manipulations, malfunctions and/or damnations, simple crucifixions of any and/all punctuation, alien pronunciations, unwanted missionary sentences, juji-fruit phrases; domestic, foreign and/or down-rightous filth and/or goin' down on any raw materials lurkin' about, is my own perogative - piss off if you have a gripe! positive comments always welcomed. |
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