S T R E A M # 4

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The dog ate the tomato at the stroke of midnight. When he told me this I referred him to the nearest post office because they might have missed it. The post office likes to know about the whereabouts of dog-consumed tomatoes. Exactly why they want to know is a matter of national security. This is what they tell me. And I ate a tomato at a quarter past ten last night, but the post office doesn’t care. They only care about the dog. Which is exactly why I need to drink coffee after every TV show that displays cats eating tomatoes at the diner across the street from Jack. I don’t know who Jack is. I don’t know who Tom is. I knew a Tom once. I know a different Tom now. I’ve probably known a few Toms in my life. This is the job description from the deposit account in San Francisco. When I tasted the lima bean it tasted like ice cream from the Bob in Detroit. I’ve known a few Bobs, too. Time to turn up the music. I drink tea when I eat at the Chinese place across from the train station. I’ll share a plate of cashew chicken and vegetables (with rice) with Pop because Pop can’t eat an entire serving of anything anymore, and I need to lose some weight. Why am I eating when I’m not even all that hungry? As they say, “It’s not what you’re eating, it’s what’s eating you.” It’s true. I’ve passed through Detroit only to get to Canada. I’ve spent an evening and a morning at a hotel which faces Detroit on the Canadian side of the river. I think it’s a river. I can’t remember the name of that Canadian city across from Detroit. That’s rather disconcerting – if that’s the word for it. For that matter, I can’t recall the name of that river that separates that Canadian city from Detroit. For quite a few years now, when I need the name of something or somebody or somewhere, it won’t come to me lickety-split. I think I’ve always had this sort of recall problem. It’s why I’m not very good a improvisation. I’m better at writing – because, with writing, you can take all the time you need (generally speaking) to organize the thought you want to express. This is not always the case when the interaction is online, of course. But, anyway, it’s what I’m trying to accomplish with this sort of writing – which I would like to define as: writing at the speed of thought. The problem is that I may make certain errors. For example, in my previous entry,* I believe I wrote the word “shaper” when I meant to write the word “sharper.” And I wrote the word “show” when I meant to write another word. I’d like to go back and check what I wrote exactly, but that would disrupt this stream. So, anyway, this stream-of-conscious writing experiment is flawed on several levels because of the errors I didn’t tend to make. These errors, of course, change the meaning of the thought I’m attempting to express. Ah, well. Hopefully, with time and persistence, I’ll get better at catching these errors on the fly. Anyway, regarding that Canadian city across from Detroit: It struck me, during breakfast, that the GM Towers (at least I think they were the GM Towers), looked like they were fashioned in such a way to give Canada the swear finger. See, it feels neat when I don’t know what exactly I’m going to write next. See, I figured this would happen. I figured that my fingers would catch up with my brain, or vice-versa. I need to eat the tomatoes in the grass to stop fiddling with the cow’s milk in the drainage ditch. I need to keep throwing myself off. That’s when the tingling comes. If I reject the next word that pops into my brain with another that doesn’t exactly fit. Cows and dogs and cats are grapefruit in the southern regions of Pasadena, and I want my MTV in the popsicle which I am not at present licking with passion. No, doctor, eat my tomatoes with peanut butter! WHY ALWAYS WITH THE TOMATOES AND THE CATS AND THE DOGS?!? I’ve nearly reached the bottom, so when the time comes I’ll move past the train with the pears and the bulls with their apples and the fruit from Somalia. I can’t wait to eat cheese that hasn’t been touched-up with Victoria’s Secret. 

9 April 2008  

*[10/24/21: Please see S T R E A M  # 3.]

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