Tuesday, January 20, 2004

Kafka, the idiot.

"Keep pushing!"

It's nighttime, and I'm down by the docks with the Hell's Angels for some reason. We're trying to push this little rowboat away from shore, but it seems to be stuck on something. It's raining and I'm getting water in my eyes - both rainwater and lake water. The lake water laps up against my legs and the side of the boat. I'm thinking about pollutions and poisons. I'm yelling at some idiot called Kafka.

"Hey Kafka, I said push not pull!"

The idiot keeps pulling anyway, and all his cohorts are just standing on the nearby dock looking like giant leather-clad morons. I call over to them.

"You idiots want to help out?!"

They all start looking at each other and shifting around. I'm thinking about cattle. I backhand Kafka and he reels back, falling into the water.

Working alone, I manage to push the boat out. I jump in and find it packed with paper-wrapped boxes. Grabbing up the paddles, I begin rowing out into the black water.

I look back and see Kafka struggling to shore to meet up with his fellow idiots. The city skyline sits queerly in the background, ablaze with gauzy lights.

I'm glad to be getting away.

Row away from shore
Under the cloak of midnight-
No sound but the waves


No sound but the waves.

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