You could say this week has been a bit of

You could say this week has been a bit of
a Wiener Schnitzel: something very odd
happened at the weekend with my orgasm.
I am defiantly not the subject –
it was one of those feeling where you felt
you were constantly trapped in a psycho-
analysis session, and the therapist
would never leave. Be gentle with me today,
or I might just fucking bite. Is the 1980’s
something I live in my head? Why does Basquiat
still haunt me so…? Everything becomes
graffiti haunted poetry. Please feel free
to hold on to your dreams of suburbia.
The only thing left to me is alcohol,
drinking, poetry, and reading. I think
this winter I need something light and frothy
in my life: maybe I need to refuse
to lose another summer. Apparently,
the tablets the consultant gave him were,
reportedly, more effective than a
colonic irrigation – I really love
people who flow with life. It is obvious
a woman of such beauty would be in
need of a boyfriend. I am no longer
enraged by anything. I’m sure there were
two Gemini Twins who taught ballet and
music in Cherbourg. Then again, they might
have sold umbrellas in Rochefort. Neither
of them were called Miss Moneypenny.
I am abstract, so I sit here listening
to Jacques Brel (Why?)