Misadventure/Adventure/Afterthought/Dirty Joke

I have a leaky bladder. For now, I soak

up my dribbles with a tee shirt I bought

at the Beat Bookstore in San Francisco…

a poetic something or other. I was in the

bank, waiting to use the ATM, and some

of my excess slipped past my defenses 

and dribbled on the floor in a little puddle.

No one noticed, I played it cool, did my

transaction, and slipped away unnoticed.

Victory.

And now, two nicely dressed Mexican

gentlemen stopped and began talking to 

me, a little Jesus rap, I didn’t understand 

a word. I said: “Yo soy Buddhismo..es

differente.” They detached at those words.

We shook hands and they left smiling.

Basic goodness.

Beethoven  has been playing in my mind

this morning. His music is awe inspiring,

victorious even. Yeah, but everyone lost

everything always anyway, so what?

So quantum victory, 

victory over time itself.

(snarkastic remarks here)

What do you call a gay man burning in a fire?

A faggot.

Hey, folks, I’m not a hypocrite.

I tried faggotry in my youth,

and I found it wasn’t at all what

it was cracked up to be.