plugging out

once upon a time i used to get drunk
smoke some cigarettes
and listen to music...

 the current mainstream dialectic is
ready... cuties on netflix...
lucky for me...

           i don't have a subscription:
it's enough to have a working
light-bulb here and there
and running water to do miracles
with turds and piss
into a gluttonous
pearl duchamp...

                     i'm not coming back
to whatever i felt invited into:
culture war double-think propaganda...
orwellian cult either side...
ad hoc apocalypse...

 when the movie thirteen came out
 i was 17 years old...
       last time i checked...
    13 year old girls would walk
up to me in the playground and
ask what shampoo i was using...
   herbal essence... i guess i had an angel
tied to a leash made from
the french braid of my hair somewhere...

i try to remember the movie...
vague...
the soundtrack, though?
      make it with the best...
stand-out track...
                thing with movies...
the first version of the secret life of walter mitty
from 1959...
        any... day... before the existential
salting the wounds with
                     the ben stiller introspect...
the day-dreaming sequences
of the original though...

bbc radio 3 over classic.fm...
      because no adverts...
           bbc radio 4... i'm not yet... mature
for talk radio... lionel nation though?
rubber-ears...
            i am out: i fold...
         i have no skin or meat in
the dialectic...
   after all... my 20s are a mystery...
i can point to being 21 at some point...
come age 33 i reached some
waking up momentum and a crippling
fear surrounding the mortality
of those closest to me...
                
i'm sure the song lemon
wasn't done by someone like
                    thievery corporation -

perhaps that's what happens
when you buy frank zappa on vinyl...
and don't find enough time...
or empty carnival space to be the only
pair of ears in the vicinity of
the gramophone...
so you... put on earphones
and tune into talk-radio...

                  while writing a "poem"
is more or less: writing with a handicap
by way of suggesting:
even if you gave me the simplest
crossword puzzle...
    i wouldn't want to solve it...
                 i suppose anyone
who can cherish a crossword puzzle
would rather do that...
than write... an archaic doodle
that perhaps might rhyme:
to seek of even numbers and geometry.