Hemingway's Shotgun, or Slashing Bonus +4

$4.99 is the Hemingway Shotgun.
Puts worlds in your stomach.
Worlds cities upon hills
my belly bulging like rockies.

Rockiest.

Anselm Berrigan's
"Have a Good One" poems
do the trick: have a good one
not said once during crime scene
at Olney Transportation Center
where a cop was gunned down.

See here.

Helicopter is God.
Text is God.
The flocks are god calling
man down man down.

The line of fire
is a rope course of police tape.

I even stepped on some
while I walked drunken Vietnamesed
up and down degraded sidewalks.

It's the Hemingway Shotgun.
It's the Florida keys, 90 something in length.

Call me trash whisperer, I told her.
I wait for the bats in the land of cats.

Apple juice from a silver-polished device
only purchasable at Mennonite thrift serum.

Goon look alike. Read Fables. Read Bone.
Read Sandman for chrissakes it's the 20th year
later. Or don't read. Or think about the midwest.

Think about Mammoth, TX, where you read Ed Abbey's
Desert Solitude and had a cheeseburger and still
want to go back; think about Terrance who
calls your father Vince McMahon after showing you
his Masons ring saying he was from CRI and just got out
and you are both on an island right outside of
City Hall and five separate occasions someone asked
the direction of Temple while standing outside the temple
and now you're think he was Jesus or some sagely thing
carrying on inside a homeless guy's body and you're happy.

Thank god somebody found it.

Read Nabokov's Laughing in the Darkness and
wonder about what's wrong with you for liking it
since it doesn't matter anymore.

Think about CAConrad talking about the coffin
factory that was up in PA and how it's become
the local old folks' home, all of them ex-coffin
factory employees, and the caskets they got
on discount will probably be used for them.

Think about Frank Sherlock talking about
the Situationalists and how Firefox thinks
that word is incorrect, even though
Sensationalists are on the correct list
but don't look the latter up please
because Google is working for the government.

Flu vaccines. Money. Big bills for big grills.

Got a quarter of a dollar the other day
and half of its bronze. Hanging onto it like
a charm though the magic is in the origami
Laura sent me; I put that orange figure, a frog
or anti-aircraft gun, in the corner on the
external hard drive that holds illegal

movies
pornography
music
games
documents

and makes me feel like the keeper of a universe.

Like banana shake off of a blender's penis-masher.
Feel awkward though project it outward.

How can a person forget Superbad, a film
that is so notorious for its characterizations?

I think about couplets and we think about darkness
and I think about silence and being alone and
work at 4:30am when I have to open these eyes
like a fry-cook taking up the tongs for the first
go, this game like the chess game that Anselm
described: anti, where we start in check.