for all of you out there wondering

about the hootch and the

unexplained (eat this robert stack)

absence.



no, not you. him.



i live in filth. dishes months old,

a bathtub that doesn't drain and a

cat that kicks shit out of his box

and plays with it.



but i don't need to clean it.



i call people all day long. i say

"accounts payable please. this is

eric from that major newspaper in

the bigger of the twin cities. no,

the other one. i'm calling

regarding an open invoice from the

month of [whatever month it is

now]. i was wondering if payment

had been set up on that yet. ok,

thanks."



i make a note.



chorus (50 times)



then i walk many blocks to my car

parked in the cheap lot. it too

filled with filth. not the parking

lot, my car. ok, that parking lot

too.



i come home.



ramen and/or spaghetti.



i think about sex.



but i repeat myself.