Elegy To My American Spirits, For King Hipster Wes Anderson Who Does Not Need Cigarettes

To all my doppelgangers who inspire Urban Outfitter storefront models, I have split, swallowed an octopus, began to two step away from you. Comrades, I am silenced by the sound of the great fountain of time, we are divided by a thin brown stick, not Slim Jim, but American Spirit. John Wayne is my great enemy and I can no longer afford to watch Godard films. I am a quitter and may now be allowed within a 20 foot radius of children. I am no longer that strange fist that robs kids of their innocence, but they’ll get theirs soon enough. It is March and just warm enough to take from my back the leather death-jacket and nail it to a tree palm.

I lack clarity of speech, but at least I will have clean air-satchels!



P.S: Issue 57 Incoming And Shipping THIS/NEXT WEEK!

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