3.

HISSSSSSSSSssssssssssssssss

(it never disappears

completely because fricatives

are unreliable leaky pipes).

Each day I become more

educated in things like fly fishing

and pornography

                  because these magazines

come in with the wind from a

                  nearby unfortified newsstand.

I can tell you how to fish.

I can tell you how to fuck (and be fucked over).

I can tell you this:

       I feel like I live in purgatory, an

       eternal waiting room, with all of

       these goddamn magazines.

       And the receptionist keeps on

       ignoring my turn.

Things could be worse (imagine if

I didn't know what a fricative was?);

           things can

                                always

be worse.