Waking Finnegan

“We are such stuff as dreams are made of, and our whole life is rounded with a sleep” ~ Shakespeare

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Location: zurich, Switzerland

Monday, November 08, 2004

November 8, 2004



Tankheavy semis spliced with small cheap car vulnerable drive-in-between freeway my bad steering wheel w/half broken axle troubled slipshod greasewater raining cant-see highway. no noise. emptly begging mercy with pawn junker about my worthless 'who-gives-a-fuck aboutit valuables.

Records scratching deep vinyl groove-lanes on the discograph so sad this record. As my stepfather lay dying no more NewYork patois patter from long ago forgotten jokes not funny no more but sad instead. Someone tries telling me about the overflow on my wineglass clink clink 'no more wine' I said my bad. Should've been watching now head swollen and rotten falling in and out of sleep--pissing and spinning. More vinyl. No sound.

Tapping pen on my desk for more fluidity but nothing coming out only scratching spine gratings. Writing notes on white table for memories long gone.

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