Us. The rest of us. The rest of us whose days are not running
harder and longer and meaner and funnier. The rest of us
laughing to hurl mud at the wanderers of useless being seeking;
seeing the rumpus rooms there in the back of the house caked
with dust and moldylight and all alone and quiet
and lonely for agood time. The red glass
says lonely forvagrants or any peoples
that would treather well or even urinate
on her pool tableifit meant something to
break the air. Soabandoned! For she is
boarded-up insideanduseless. Less. Decrepit.
Derelict. Old. Defeated. Useless nothing,
useless. Now uselessbutlet’s find a newer and user
friendlier room, lettingthis old one get older and die.
No thoughts of death in a wildthing rumpus room! No thoughts
of aging or uglinessor loss in a rumpus room!
Do you hear me?You are not wiser but
uglier. You arenot wiser but meaner.
Meaner, harder,longer and funnier.
And losing yoursight and hearing.
Hair and marbles.Your will and self
and self and selfandsexdrive. You good
for nothing! Letthe silly young
vagrants in and you willcorrupt them. You do
not understandyouth and movement
and fun andliving any longer.
Let them outand you are
nothing. Nothing, just
useless nothing. Do
not think.Just be.
And thenplease
be nothing.
God,please.
For the sake of the rest of us. For the rest of us. The rest of us.
US.
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