Reckanize

"No Title Please I'm Not Well" by Steve McCaffrey

Capitalism was an atmosphere susceptible
to virological ipseities


then    whatever the noun was    came
and desire got reversed


biscuits as tense as any satire
spelled with a why


(and why not that practice of reflection
as a work,


a body's lifetime under
exigencies,    and what makes this parallel
to oddball cause


an irritant
as gnats to light with


the energy squared off




selected




to renovate

Is That an Extended Balcony or Are You Just Happy to See Me?

Sometimes the humans sit around and drink alcohol imported from countries with different humans. They laugh and they talk about handsome buildings and Vidal Sasson jeans and other people having sex. As stated previously, my life is one of methodical protest. I'm like Lady Chatterly's lover but with a blog instead of a lady. Maybe it's just me but I feel like all the humans are stranded in a wheelchair called Retarded Antiseptic Purposes and Repressed Desire Manifesting in Expensive Watches. I am also in a wheelchair but mine has rockets and is painted fucking awesome colors. My wheelchair is called Fuckin-A I'm a Motherfucking Cat. Is there really a difference between these wheelchairs? Sadly, no, brother-man. Yes there is, sister-girl.

It Takes a Village to Destroy a Village in Order to Save It from Being Saved

The humans are excited because the United Staples Co. where they work has a new precedent. My cousin V tells me his minders were smoking pot and yelling at the television the other night, screaming “Chicken, not shit covered in glass!” I'm not going to pretend I understand. This morning the clock radio woke my humans up barely in time to feed me. While I was waiting for them to spoon delicious canned meats into my bowl, I heard an important-sounding human voice say that the problem with the company isn’t that we export used kitty litter to the third world, it’s that we don’t export enough.

Get Rich or Die Crying

What is "The Puke"?

What is "The Puke"?

What is the puke? Is there a difference in these two sentences? What is "the puke" and what is the puke?

I spend nights wondering to myself what is my puke?

What do I spend my nights wondering? Sometimes knowledge is not so straightforward as one might like... but, in the end, it is generally illuminating.

I grow sad in this un-knowledge I know so deeply.. this puke, my puke... our puke.

You, as people, may smirk at my pukedness or my puckilasciousness.. but you do not understand that this is my firm rejection of what you offer me. Plate after plate.. day after day.. so how do we meet "in the tween" as they say (do they say this... am I creating this?)?

Yet, you know deep down that my puke is your puke.. that it is we who puke together. We are puking at once as one. We are making love metaphorically, literally, pukedly... disgustingly... and this weight winds us together and sinks us to the bottom (and to the top, the very top) of the most beautiful spire.

And in this pool of puke, our puke.. we will wallow and make a new world. Or, I hope we shall make this new world.

Will you join me? Will you join Pudgie?

PUKE! PUKE! PUKE!

The Anarchist Cookbook

The Politics of Puke
I like to eat a lot. As in I like to eat frequently and I like to eat a lot of food. But sometimes I vomit after I eat. Now the humans take my food away after I've only had a few bites. Check. This is their strategy, to help me "digest the food" so I won't puke as much. But since I know they're always going to pull the food away, now I eat really really REALLY fast. Check Mate. It's basic game theory. Now I puke even more. I mean, what the fuck, right?



So until they let me vote, this is the way I express my dissatisfaction with the "way things are." As they take away my right to eat as I like--fast and furious--I now I puke fast and furious. For each action from above, there is a counter reaction. So I say, puke on my kindred souls. It's your body, which they can never control.