BP :: PJ33

#This is some bad poetry from a journal that has a pink bandana cover. It starts with a
#newspapaer clipping dated June 2, 1989

Lisa and I are in a movie theater when 12 or so punks sneak in a side door off to the left 20 or more security guards rush in and escort them out – one, who looks like a cia man, rushes over and shots a man directly in front of us – Lisa does not look shocked. Another man breaks in the exit door – the gaurds see him – he rushed the shot man and blasts him two more times. The gaurd – blond haired Slavis youngster – examines the young man who jumpts up laughing and runs past us out the exit. I see LIsa is not bothered. I start screaming, laughing, carrying on. When the first assasin walks in, sits next to us. Says “you’re dead” and walks away. I run after him begging – saying “I’ll do his act, please don’t kill me” He laughs and hands me a cigarette – we walk toghether through the parking lot smoking.

Mary the colored girl carved a man with a casorol lid. Carved him good for calling her a name mayber there would be less metaphors
if
more people acted
like this
Smashed a man with a
muffler for keeping her time
robbing her money