Outsider Logic (And Other Tales)

(all pieces from various times 2006)

OUTSIDER LOGIC
In this tired world of mothers and motherfuckers I have been driven underground. Love songs provide clues for future historians. Characters are typed in lines on the same page where I am scrawled in the margins. I am not shaped for sportive tricks. I will not play your reindeer games. I have teetered at the edge of the wheel long enough to recognize the cycles. They become familiar as friends because they do not change.

DREAMING IN TETRIS
Those were the days that I was dreaming in Tetris. When I shut my eyes I would see blocks falling, rotating, accumulating through some twisted tropism into a tower as tall and as doomed as the one at Babel, fighting gravity in vain. Even the waking world wasn't free from these flights of reverie -- any grid pattern such as tiles on the floor or wall would become the platform for the game to continue, the universe a Turing Machine that was emulating Tetris.

BETWEEN CLOCKWORK AND CARBON PAPER
There is nothing new here. Everything there is to say has already been said so we simply repeat the words of others. Rolling white paper quotes off of toner-black tongues. We go through the motions as if actors or automatons; repeating cycles that can not, will not, do not stop. There is nothing new here.

THE SCREAM
There is a scream in me that is building; a scream of confusion, of frustration, of terror and trepidation; a deafening and destructive roar. I dare not let it out, not for the fear that it could collapse and crumble these confining walls, but for the fear that it would have no effect at all, that it would pass through the air useless and unnoticed. So instead I simply stand still, listening in silence to this scream in my head.