[i will wear thirty two shades of eyeliner & gentrify your avant garde poetry]

Sunday, December 03, 2006

dirty dozen

I am Charles Bronson. I am leading the Dirty Dozen on a clandestine mission in Omaha, Nebraska. Our fatigues are muddy and tight. The sky is a brown shirt. We are surrounded by rusted trees. I set my rifle down. I am not Charles Bronson. I watch Charles Bronson set his rifle down. He says, "Strip." The Dirty Dozen strips. He motions forward. I am Charles Bronson I motion forward. The Dirty Dozen charges between trees toward a row of robot warriors. I remove a notebook from my back pocket. I write all this down. I sketch a picture of the robot warriors slaughtering the Dirty Dozen. I draw a picture of Charles Bronson sketching pictures of robot warriors. Charles Bronson says, "I am a camera." I say, "I am a camera." We charge into the map-room. We destroy the 'big board.'

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