Saturday, September 20, 2008


At first I wanted a suppository. Then I wanted
an enema. Then I
had a bowel movement and didn't need
anything any more that I thought I wanted, except for the
use of two hands to type with in order to
capitalize. This I gained by holding the breathing-treatment
mouthpiece between my teeth. I'm feeling very sorry for myself but
I realize that there are people who type using a stick held between
their teeth the very way I'm holding this mouthpiece; not only that but
there are people who talk with their eyes, looking up for yes and
down for no. I never thought I could do all that but after I saw
Steven Hawking go by in his wheelchair talking to his aide I realized
I probably could; I'm glad I don't have to though. Seeing them
was funny too because they were walking right by the long line of
mostly students at Santa Monica College waiting to hear him; none of
looked at him. They were in line to see someone but they didn't know
what he looked like, just as I am now mostly waiting for death without
the faintest idea what it will feel like, and desperately searching for
kleenex when it is right in front of me, just behind the open laptop
lid -
and remembering when Kleenex tried so hard to prevent us from
saying kleenex. "The people, united, will never be defeated," I used to
chant when I could still walk and shout, not thinking about kleenex at
at the time, but it's all one: language won't ever come from Madison
Avenue though at times it will incorporate it. And now I'll have a
cabinet please (a Boston milkshake).

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