Interrogation Scene
* While typing this poem up . . . 

my friend(,) who's a devote of Carlos Castaneda(,) offered a frying pan to my head, but I wasn't break fast enough, yet.

I speak in an unofficial voice.
Not like the manager of the Jesus Twins;
not like Bubba Free John.
I speak my natural animal voice.
And perhaps they do too.
I didn't learn perhaps from them.


He said it was a crow. But in Southwest Virginia.

No. It was a crow. For me, at the moment, I was experiencing disappointment in love. Suboxone. Not me, but they. For surprise urine test.

In the middle of the night. We was going to make a joke film. But all my friends become Devotees, be it Drinky Crow or  Shake-Zilla or Adi Da or Super Milk Chan.
Superfans or Smart Marks. : Nothing amounts to anything: local.  

And nothing adds to anything, as one might expect, local. [Locally.]

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