tematiski iederas, lasot bukovski

Činaskim šodien karsti.

"Maita, te ir tavs kondicionieris. Es esmu prom. Prom uz visiem laikam, tu, kuņasdēls! Kad ir vientulīgi, vari nodragāt šajās biksītēs.
Lidija."

Kur i', kur i'?

http://vimeo.com/14477529

and soon it began to rain . . . atomic submarines
changed course, Tuesday Weld hid behind a newspaper,
Jean-Paul Sartre rolled in his sleep, and my hole
filled
with water; I came out black as Africa, shooting
stars
and epitaphs, my pockets full of lovely worms,
and they took me to their jail and gave me a shower
and a nice cell, rent-free, and even now the people
are picketing in my cause, and I have signed
contracts to appear of the stage and television,
to write a guest column for the local paper and
write a book and endorse some products, I have
enough money to last me several years at the best
hotels, but as soon as I get out of here, I'm gonna
find me another loose slab and begin to dig, dig,
and this time I'm not coming back . . . rain, shine,
or bikini, and the reporters keep asking, why did you
do it? but I just light my cigarette and smile . . .

The Man With The Beautiful Eyes

A Little Atomic Bomb

one of Lorca's best lines
is,
"agony, always
agony ..."
think of this when you
kill a
cockroach or
pick up a razor to
shave
or awaken in the morning
to
face the
sun.