Tuesday, April 16, 2013

I wake up in the middle of the night

I wake up in the middle of the night

and realize that I did not in fact call Andy Warhol

"Butt-Fk," after all.  I had called him "Fk-nut."

The former, sadly, sadly, a homophobic slur,

for which I felt, and still feel, guilt and self-loathing.

Maybe that was the point. It is not funny.  It could

be, I suppose.  Especially if I had the "will" (which

Lowen called an anti-"body" psychological defense)

[or maybe it was Nietzsche or Perls or someone else, doesn't matter]

but I don't have the will (tonight) or even the desire,

either.  Partially because it just seems like very bad taste

and partially because the horrible event at the Boston Marathon

dulls one's spirit and partially because I had already felt enough

shame for the kinds of "class inferiority" that someone like me

must endure for a lifetime, anyhow.  IT will take more "work."

1 comment:

Joy Leftow said...

Bad Boy!