"Another Monster Truck Rally Marred by Death"

D.P.W. says:

You just went into a place, didn't you?

Possibly.

If you are going to become an essentialist, you're gonna die an American you know? I thought we didn't want that.

(...)

Extreme paranoia? Whirly-swirly? Complete accounting of every single fact, every single attack, every word of the poem and its evil person laughter and mockery from a position of privilege and money?

(...) There are coincidences with very high probability.

Do you realize you completely missed the possibility that the speaker of the poem might actually be female? That it's a woman's asshole talking? Did you realize when she was talking about dreams she could have been talking about a site she maintains? The possibility that what you read as positioning was really her mocking her own ripping off of those poets' "blood-hot and personal" (that Plath bitch) methods of interrogating American bloodlust and aggression through just these techniques? That every single word might have been poetic shriving?

(...)

You liked the poem. A lot. Then it was something else. An evil person's stratagem? LOL..

LOL.

I understand the medicine was moving you towards Raynaud's but this is iffy. And you don't even do meditation. Consciousness is like driving a car. If you sit at this computer too long you will get that tunnel vision thing. It's not a lotus. No, there's no chocolate there, stop looking.

(...)

Another monster truck rally marred by death.

That's me all over. Thanks, Philip.

I think maybe you're right.

What the fuck happened?

It happened quick. Do you realize you've been sitting and typing an average of nine hours a day lately?

My head hurts.

Your head hurts me. Maybe you should go drink some blood. OH, I DIDN'T SAY THAT. But if it's already in the fridge and not lowing...

LOL. I am not a lotus starer. But I am lowing.

Sleep. Those little slices of death. Poe said.

I don't think I like sleep anymore.

There must be something bad down under there.

I could lock on you in amplexus.

I have a boyfriend for that.

Oh, right.