text mode CrossConnect previous next

Home
Issue Contents
Contributors
E-mail Us
   d i a r y    o f    a    p u m p k i n    e a t e r

--- A N D R E W   L E V Y


A philosophy of dialing a piece of cake is the most unlikely business in the world. Closets 'but' no cigar never met with succulent salmon. This in cyberspace. In order to combat that problem, shatter the myths of our scenario. Admit and fully utilize the use of the first glance (a depth inhabitable in spite of the din). Silence, we must assume, once thinking was respected and not treated as a superstition, aimed at a better circulation. An ocean of assembling says, enough lox. Give that sexuality a drill. Now is taken out of verbal articulation. In its bed, strangers most sought after model promises one body: Hercules mastering the network. Attacking the rigidities of organization in Hebrew. Even extending political availability to the only chartreuse hoosier in the box who came out. His body, under gods sampled and treated outside the physical boundaries of the body, a drifting voice and eyes carnival duality get busy blue bottles shiny smile. Clearly interplanetary, sea elephants do look good, but for nature's alien otherness, an elaboration dusted among uncomprehending souls who bark at the stars, unscrew your capability of absorption in order not to dissovle. I don't know what traditional Udu music sounds like and I don't know anyone who does. The important thing for me is coming from a true spot; it is just by accident I've been thrown out on a small platform. Wake up, for christ's sake! Andrew is sprinting through the addresses of the dead. You've got to stop him! The future is suffering and we're caught smack dab in the poopoo. "I am a singer from a humpback whale. I tell stories in another language." With much amusement, the pumpkin continues to ripen top the fridge. Hey, elephant! Bet you can't be orange as me! ('Was this really Elvis speaking?') What kind of timbre did they use? Did they sing highly? Did they sing loudly? Did they sing ornamentation more rapidly? 'We are telematic nomads . . . We come in peace . . .' The elephant turns red, then blue. Not a delicate rice offering in sight. He or she doesn't, thankfully, turn orange. The pumpkin eater picks up the spoon and dips it gently into the pumpkin. My team has developed a new logo and image for these nomads, with splashy graphic packaging. We plan to gorge the elephant slowly with pumpkin from the midwestern states. The lesson: Children measured in the same proportion as pumpkin should be happy as oxen. Hold on. Charlton Heston 'is' a) Moses b) the Woolly Bugger c) John Tesh d) all of the above. Once awake, monks in monasteries and children on the street hard sell hysteria, as both structural and anti-structural, receiving the implements of their profession. As far as the rest of the stars are concerned, they understand shopping and then arriving at the check-out to charge. The elephants, in the meantime, become meaner by the minute. Their trainer despises the circus boss, often muttering between acts, "'Maximum' volume, ye elephants. We'll kill the bugger yet!" He gives his elephants a bouncy improvisational treatment they like and adore him for. It's an interesting marriage of East and West. Goodnight sweetheart, goodnight. Please call me. Please.

© crossconnect 1995-1998 |
published in association with the |
university of pennsylvania kelly writers house |