subject to yeah

I was subject to ‘yeah’ awhile for willing sounds stray, a bit too far left, or maybe right, of Standard Operating Music Arrangement (SOMA), than even the liberal interpreter of SOMA can silently suffer. She must sing.

Idiots wanted, the proverbial want-ads read, Sons of suffering to be put through worse. Qualified applicants assume Marketable position. Bite. Hard. Bite that bullet hard son bite hard….

“Can’t you see that? Can’t you open your eyes for one goddamned minute and just see that? Or at least see something if not ‘that’ specifically.”

She said this several times throughout the evening, but I couldn’t make out exactly what ‘that’ was, much less anything else. Or something else, as she apparently preferred.

Years of this can naturally alter, displace or even obliterate – zap gone poof oblivion – one’s ability to feel.

Such years, as they accumulate, break character, breed cowardice of the sort found in ‘journalists’ who win tear-jerk awards for juiced-jock achievement-stories and at the awards ceremonies fawn over drunken vampires experimenting with money, you know, those ‘sons of promise’ with cash for kindling to burn some unfortunate – in every sense – victim…say, some dumb-ass hack ‘news’ reporter…

Adam Engel lived for your sins -- and he lived well! -- in Fear-and-Trembling, Brooklyn, one of the last gangrenous toes of NYC not yet severed and replaced with a prosthetic gentrification device. Engel has traveled the farthest regions of cyberspace, where Dark-matter meets Doesn't-matter; and Anti-matter, despite its negative connotation and dour point-of-view, excercises rights of expression protected by Richard Stallman's GNU/Free Software Foundation and CopyLeft agreement, if nobody and nothing else. Having spent many years studying Boobus Americanus (Summum Ignoramus), allegedly the most intelligent mammal on earth -- after its distant relative, Homo Sapiens -- in various natural habitats (couch, cubicle, bar-stool, ball-game -- televised or 'real-time') -- Engel has thus far related his observations of and experiences with this most dangerous of predators in three books -- Topiary, Cella Fantastik, and I Hope My Corpse Gives You the Plague (the combined international sales of which have reached literally dozens, perhaps as many as seventy, with projected revenue to top three digits by decade's end! Truly a publishing phenomenon). Engel is Associate Editor of Time Capsule Books, a division of Oliver Arts & Open Press, published in limited editions for a tiny, highly specified, though eclectic, target-audience: people who actually read books. He can be reached at Read other articles by Adam, or visit Adam's website.