I posted 8 times today things I have written in the past two months

and it all sucks. but who cares?

It's Hard Being (So Gonzo, So Gangster, So Gringo)

The urge to flee is imminent. Swelled up from within, like the gurgling in your colon after a long night of Great Lakes and Taco Bell. Camel Lights have begun to taste like chocolate stout. The street lamps along Coventry glisten with vague ideas of autumn. A steely Cleveland chill clamps its cancer-ridden jaws around the evening sky, and the sun cowers at the prospect of being cold-cocked by the moon. Two anorexic would-be whores hoof past. Herpes spills out from the Panini's patio and flirts with a couple pigs in full uniform. There is no escape. Popped collars and gelled hair in every direction. A muddied sense of responsibility in the back of your mind. No choice but to take one last drag and head in. At the very least, have a few drinks and chase some pink. Why not? Self-respect went out of style and out the window decades ago. Character and fitness cannot be far behind. You have survived up to this point. Insufferable bastards like you are cursed with the irony of long life all the time.

Play it cool. Nothing amiss here. You are an O.G. Your pockets run deep. Your connections, deeper. It is not a front, if you can back it up. Bitches mean nothing; just politics as usual. Meat regulating meat... a public meat option. Shots of Patron on you. A Tanqueray and tonic, please, barkeep. Sam Adams seasonal, Dortmunder, Number 9. Meet up with the Egg Mane, fry up some omelettes. 4:30 in the morning, freestyle from your Juliet balcony. Anything worthwhile dies in the bricks and pavement. The Heights are asleep. All the better: you are wide awake. There is no rest for fiends, nor hustlers. At this hour, you lie somewhere in the middle.

Black out, if you can. There is business to tend to tomorrow. The week is bound to be indecisive, and the outlook for the month is especially grim. Wall Street is trading defualted sub-prime Soul mortgages for guns and cocaine. Be sure to make September's payment by the due date, or yours is next to go. Skip town, and they will find you. You failed to make your bed this afternoon, now you have to lay there thinking about just what in the fuck you have gotten yourself into. This is your existence, for the next three years. Welcome to law school, fuck who you used to be.

briefing garcetti v. ceballos

Garcetti v. Ceballos is already a piece of right, Republican garbage, and I'm only two minutes in. The question at hand is whether Public Employee is free to speak against Public Employer when it is a matter of Public Concern... Job-required speech! The burden is on the employer! The speech is expressed by Private Citizen, as a matter of Public Concern. What does all this garbage even mean? Is not the point of being Public Employee furthering Public Concern? Public Employer, should you not feel the same? A man is going to jail! The local sheriff prevails again! Upheld by The Supreme Court nonetheless. What eminence! His balls reach all the way to Washington! He must be a riley littlecocksucker to get that kind of reach-around from that queer, little D.A. I have not seen a Public Official play such a mean trombone since LaTourette and Abramoff!

The Ninth District... Go figure those liberal faggot cokeheads would have overruled the District Court. Activist pigs! Free speech for Public Employee! What in God's Fucking Name were you thinking? The Public should never know anything of Public Concern! It's none of their goddamn business! For fuck's sake! You know The Government cannot lose. That would shake the very foundation of America, the World's Largest Corporation. If that company fails, the whole bastard economy collapses! Is that what you want, Ninth District? The whole bastard economy? It's on your shoulders, you egg-sucking arm-pit jizzers. Do what you want behind closed doors but, please, do not subject our children to your flowery boxer-briefs.

Thank God for Anthony Kennedy! A man of scruples and scruffy, weighty testicles! Unswayable, always direct in his course! The Iron Rock of The Bench! Especially in the midst of a split decision! "The fact that his duties sometimes required him to speak or write," he wrote in The Court's Opinion, "does not mean his supervisors were prohibited from evaluating his performance."

Fuck Public Employee! That stupid son-of-a-bitch got fired, and he deserved it. He violated the internal rules of the workplace. This is the kind of Justice The Constitution was getting at! The Government, protected from the tyranny of The Ignorant Public.

there is sinking in the breeze that slinks

September streets and leafy trees and blades

of grass that tremble in the wane

of Sunday afternoon.

the evening labors in jest to catch

the moon and stars, stirred awake

by blacktop steam and frenzied wasps

buzzing in a bed of windows.

dizzy breathing, bleeding autumn,

blue eyes rob the sky of cumulus diamonds.

fall backward, the ceiling dissolves,

like a plate of microwaved cinnamon butter.

if, only... oh so bitter, snarls

a rabid dog that bites like winter.

the lines are drawn

in between the in-

betweens, the go-

betweens go round.