poem #1

point a didn't work out so he moved on to point b which was where everybody was hanging out anyways. at first there was a lot of talk about point c and some speculation about d and points after that. but as time went by at point b, this kind of talk made everybody annoyed. i mean, point a hadn't worked out for anyone except for a couple of folks in the past and they just proceeded immediately to point c, supposedly. actually, for most people at point b, if you could gain their confidence, they'd privately voice great doubts a's existence. and the more time that passed at point b, the more suspect even the idea of point a became, not just for us but really for anyone, including those people who left. so we trashed point a because it worked great wonders for us in consoling ourselves about the fact that point b had begun to look increasingly like a permanent home for us. still, there were a few dreamer-types around who refused to come (?) to point b and suddenly insisted on a's possibility as well as c, d, e and on out to z.

but this made everybody feel bad, you know, like they were lacking or failing, so it was tacitly agreed upon that these people were just crazy and since they wouldn't pledge their allegiance to point b it was hard to accommodate them. but some use was eventually made of them, which didn't pay well but seemed to appease them and amuse the rest of us for a while until both of them developed debilitating addictions and died off. then we were sad but not overly so and not for too long because it was these addictions that did them in, not point b or us. i mean, christ, we gave them what they wanted, which was condescending applause for their little dances and songs, pictures and skits, humorous memoirs filled with melodramatic and ridiculous nonsense all about points a and c, which, come on, is useless if you live in the real world. shit! i cant get anything done anyways because people always call me on the telephone saying, "we love you jesse, we love you joseph, we love you helmut, we love you drako, we love you tricky dick, we love you vaughn, ron and even dan even though you cant spell for shit. we don't love you despite the fact that you have no ambition but because you don't and we don't either." i can barely keep my own campaign going with all the freaks and distractions of point b, much less drum up some interest in other people's crap about other places. you cant live in a castle made of sand unless its got a sand bank that dispenses actual paper currency. i mean, the point is we live here in the middle of point b so get with the fucking program. sure, you might ask, "what is the program?" and i wouldn't really be able to tell you but i will really be able to run it. and that's good enough for me because that's the way things are. point a, point c, point d, t, o, m, a, t, o, e - tomatoe

thanks to fred