finite banana supply
by Kenn Fliegen

finite banana supply
(reality of) 
(pushed to fore)

Xsad music always makes me happy.
melancholy equals happy.
certain chords. slapping at my heart on purpose. is
there a purpose to her
beauty. field of vision does/does not indicate a
reasoning god.

happiness requires coupling. a chill in the air and a
preferred beverage.
conditions and desires. anticipation can be
happiness.
but happiness has to do with climbing hills and
mountains. achievement,
results: disappointment.

yeah, buk said i could do it.
yeah. gert said i could do it.
yeah, the dried corn in my soul makes me do it. some
will say i have
tinkled in the silo for years. i can see alot from up
here.
(i never could spell "alot".)

doesnt look right. but it is right. try saying
hemisphere over and over
again. while waiting at the mailbox for the july
issue.
take down the craft paper and cackle at the roaches.
folk philosophy
touches often on roaches, right. folk artists have
slept over with the
roaches. which would you rather have: a jar of stewed
tomatoes or one of
running roaches? mudbugs do not belong in jars.



sylvia plath collected colored bell jars and hammered
at heterosexual mores
with one of those old wooden tennis rackets. rob kemp
eats dirt. and
suspects that when waitresses smile they want larger
tips.
very russian.
and that is delightful!
german cockroaches and asian mudbugs. german potato
salad and asian
cockroaches. south african diamonds. talk about
conflicts. or then there's
the weather. is there always conflicts?


not the rules is art.
jumbled, junky, confluent, all congruently.

rob kemp eats german potato salad. and listens to herb
alpert for a sense of
continuity.
NO! for a sense of dance! and the tijuana brass.


that was never a class assignment: present your mind.
propose undereducated
philosophy. and that's my fault. i was young.
it was. it is that.

i said nigger in the hall.
i was ruined.
i had a brownie stuck all over my ass. who put it
there? i sat on it. 'twas
nothing. girls saw me walking even.
girls gave me doubtful looks. means nothing. i've got
love. she's got me.
i said nigger in the hall.


always a justification for pain after the fact. for
happiness? indulgence?

cloud in the feretory. since every day has its own
saint, or every saint has
his day, isnt there always an excuse for papal jokes?
for selling bones?


i didnt fight. he wouldve smashed my face. i saw that
and left.
"sure, i'll tell the truth." righteous in defeat. or
showing off.
"ememplary." or, ra-thuh, exemplary.


are there any cowards or just persons who dont know?

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