The flies buzzed around me, the only breathing pile of dogshit in a yard full of dogshit. My vacation pay getting ready to be deposited and until some shifts opened this was my life. Exercise, sun and clean the house. At least until the homeowner gets back, finds out I don't have a job, I spent what rent money I had trying to push less then legitimate means, and that I am planning a future with his ex-girlfriend.

I smoke another bowl while the neighbor sets up their kiddie pool somewhere beyond the fence. I don't care if they can smell it. I don't care if they can see me in my boxers sunning myself, through the gaps in the fence boards. Sunning with no lotion is my thumb to the nose of the carcinogenic era. I quit smoking cigarettes years ago. If the cancer man can out run heart rot and liver rot let him have me.

I am working out again and trying to cut down on junk food. Maybe some hope of getting in the Army remains. Maybe if I get an ASVAB book and brush up on my testing skills, lose weight, get clean, and enlist I can keep my landlord happy. He'll get a tasty bonus. Or maybe one of these lottery tickets on the wall will hit big. Maybe I'll score big finally. Maybe I'll get brave. What Would Joker Do?

Whatever I do, I can't wing it. My daughter may want nothing to do with me and I am drifting away from a lot of once comfortable ports, but something is working. I am up and running and writing. I am getting sun and growing back my goatee. She likes my goatee. As broken as my situation is I'll get through it or die trying. Keep this dream of writing alive. Gather up as many essays and rants as i can and see I can get a book or a grant or god knows what. I am beyond the help of this already tainted job market. I do it my way from now on. Ye Gods, Fuck or Fly? Why not both, says Commodore Baccus. Hold your wind and ready on the guns. Summer is coming and so am I

If I die trying than I don't have to deal with this shit anymore do I.