why do you insist on reading his mail. i send these letters for him.
i agree about the mountains. tell that to nanook. i wish i had gills. 
because the ocean is a terrible place. right now there’s a reef inside my left ear. if i was a fish, i could tunnel through the labyrinth of brain coral & sponges searching for the white cheese at the end of the tunnel. a nice rodent provolone or maybe it was swiss but i think that
i was the one who ate the holes.
if i had gills, rock hudson, that’s what i’m going to call you because 
i remember maybe that nook once said your name was peter. & peter means 
rock. & since you haven’t signed your letter. if i had gills, i could 
swim forever. I could swim like a boat in the water. but boats need fuel 
rock. fish don’t need diesel. they just eat each other.

i would never be a pokemon. you can keep your tongues, though this giffararig might be something if you made them from mangoes. i once heard that if god had a cunt it would be made of a mango. can’t say i disagree.

if i were anything else, i would be a fish. maybe a shark because 
they die if they stop swimming. i’ve always thought the hardest part of life 
must be suicide. any big fish would do though. i think, rock hudson, that i 
would be a smart fish. i wouldn’t eat any silver hooks.

but nook will tell you. i eat silver hooks & worse everyday. why would i be 
smarter as a fish than a man?
i hate a silver hook, rock hudson. i’m dead now, nanook.

dead like a buffalo.

dobbs

this weekend i was a party animal. a party animal is soft on the outside, 
with green gooey innards. me and jadol performed with kingfish on the smallest 
stage in the world. and i drank. one beer. in honor of ceremonies soon to come. and nagging. and pity. really, i felt sorry for the guy. getting wasted all alone.

latter the the party animal crawled over to another location. it got sand in its toes. it hit a ball in the air and over a net. then there was a pool where the animal had the chance to show off his prime example of a human body. the gun show sold out. coronas were strewn around the pool and one was put to death by 
firing squad. jadol stepped on the remains. blood gushed. a bonfire for midgets ended the night. fireflys in the firelight.

i’m lazy as hell. and still jobless, perhaps because of the laziness, 
perhaps just fate. i signed on to manage hereford united in division one. we
 barely missed out on promotion based on goal differential, but i’m still proud of the lads.

little king

i see that i was addressed this letter, but not addressed.  it’s ok, i’ll respond anyway.

my regrets and regards to your recently departed soul.  mountains are much safer than oceans and the snow is less salty.  at the bottom of the ocean you die.  at the top of a mountain all there is to do is see.  cars are the new mountaineers.  time to find superior traction.

they do share one thing in common.  lack of oxygen.  who thought that would keep me from sleeping?  a modest dose of three glasses of red wine, two cosmos (desperate) and two beers helped.
have you ever heard of a giraffarig?  i saw one in a pokemon strategy guide.  i wanted it to have longer legs and grapefruits for knee joints.  i think i want one and will surgically add leg extenders and new joints.  i’ll need to make sure they are ripe.  i wonder if it will have a purple tongue or breathe fire.  maybe both.  if i find them, would you like me to send you one?  we can work out postage later.

watch out for squids while your in the ocean.  they aren’t always friendly.  but there’s something blinking, so i think i should go.
what should my penname be?

today we drove the boat to the hole in the wall.

i drank three rum punches & pet a galliforme.

he shook his red wattle like a maraca & danced lazy circles around
the sinking dock after inhaling a dozen peyote buttons.

the smoke rose from the grill & i sliced off his head. davey peeled
his feathers & threw him on the fire. bob blew a long mournful note
on his conch shell when the turkey was dead. we ate like a sacrifice.
i ripped off his wings & mixed them with the blood sauce of the beef
tenderloin. i put the wing bones, one in each hand, by my sides & tried
to flap above the ocean. i dove into the salt like a pelican & drowned.

i’m dead now.

we pulled up our ropes & left jonesville after lunch. the wind picked
up & it started to rain. i held out my tongue & washed out the salt taste.

angela & leon were skinny dipping in our pool when we got back.
i didn’t have a beak anymore. he put on his khaki shorts & stalled
us at the dock.  she came out a few minutes later.

i wish i could have seen more than the hint of her wet tits.

dobbs