Twitterature (14 page)

 

Oh god, this is terrible, the worst thing thatʼs ever happened. My lifeʼs finished, everyone hates me, even my lover. I want to die.

 

 

Never mind. Sheʼs not even my type. All that time wasted on a girl that I didnʼt even really dig.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

What a story huh . . .
salopes
ainʼt
merde
but hos and tricks, huh? Iʼm glad childhood is free of women.

 

I met Swannʼs daughter on the street. Itʼs funny how

Iʼm getting a crush on her the way Swann did on that other girl.

 

My life feels bereft of purpose whenever I am away from her!

 

Iʼm an adult now, and that woman, well, Swann married her. No, not his daughter. Time seems so bizarre. Itʼs always playing tricks on me.

... Toying with my perception of reality, not ever making sense, never quite belonging to me, nor to anyone else, but rather remaining a -

 

. . . Force of contiguous moments gently grazing upon one another for our own satisfaction and convenience.

 

Wow. Time flies when youʼre writing books.

 

Got a gift of a huge wooden horse today, here in Troy. Just appeared outside the city gate. BTW: War going poorly.

 

Surprise. Soldiers inside the horse. We didnʼt start the fire! Hectorʼs Ghost says to GTFO - take Dad and the kid with me.

 

Iʼm on a boat. Three generations of Aenean men on a sea-journey of epic proportions. Hmm. Sounds familiar . . .

 

Stopped over in the Big C. Met a cool chick. She has issues with her previous marriage, but hey: people can change! Right?

 

In a cave with a super-freaky woman who - fondles livers! Oh, and she can tell the future!

 

Relationship moving too fast. Said I wanted to play the Elysian field but Carthage rings with weddings bells. More like death knells.

 

@Dido: Hey girl, yeah, you my world baby, yeah girl I love you, but I have a city to found and Juno says to get moving. Duty before hos.

 

In a nutshell: I told her I was leaving, so she lit a fire and went the way of the . . . Dido. #badbreakups

 

WAR! Why canʼt we be friends??

Going downriver into Hades on my boat. This whole journey really does feel awfully familiar. Canʼt place it.

 

@AugustusRex: Check out my descendants. As you can see, youʼre the most glorious, so glorious that you no doubt fund the poets of your time.

 

 

Juno being very difficult considering she charged me with this task. Why do women always do the opposite of what you tell them?

 

 

I must assemble an army with the king of Arcadia, and Elrond, Elf-king of Rivendell.

 

Weʼre gonna take these Guineas out! My boy Pallas is on that.

 

We need reinforcements, our lines are falling apart.

 

Turnus wants a fight. Time to treat him Aaron Burr style.

 

 

Finally, we have peace. Rome is settled. The great fraternity of civilizations can begin. Pax Bromana.

 

What can I say? Is it my fault that I like women? I am sure people will criticize me for this, but who cares?

 

The first sexual encounter I had was when I was little. I sexually harassed a girl with a letter I wrote. Boy, her mom was pissed.

 

I met a girl named Marthe. I will lend her books. The ladies dig it when you talk about books.

 

Turns out Marthe is married. My life is a dismal disaster. I just want to run home and cry!

 

I ran into Marthe on a boulevard today. Her husband is off at war. This is my opportunity!

 

Sometimes I wonder about the morality of sleeping with a soldierʼs wife. But it wonʼt stop me from trying.

 

Marthe just wants to be friends. Why am I always in the friend-zone? Perhaps if I touch her inappropriately this will change.

 

Oh la vache! Sheʼs kissing me. Totally missed the signs.

 

Iʼm having an affair, and Iʼm only sixteen. I hope her husband isnʼt in Special Ops. He could easily mess me up if he found out. Oh, her too.

 

While leaving Martheʼs home a kid saw me on the stairs. He grinned and betrayed me.

My parents found out about my affair. Mom was upset. She would rather I not home-wreck. Prude. My dad lolʼd.

 

Wouldnʼt it be funny if I seduced Martheʼs best friend. After all, Martheʼs got a husband. Itʼs only fair.

 

Her friend is a foreigner and doesnʼt know the language so well, including the word ʻnoʼ. We messed up Martheʼs sheets.

 

Marthe found out. I convinced her that her friend and I were just hanging out . . . more like rockinʼ out. With my cock out.

 

Marthe is pregnant. Iʼm too young to be a baby-daddy. Why did I believe her about the pills that havenʼt been invented yet?

 

She wants to keep it. I told her I didnʼt. She left. I still love her. Her husband thinks itʼs his. Boy, is he in for a surprise.

 

Marthe and I must separate. I donʼt want to, but I suppose itʼs best. I did love her.

 

I havenʼt seen Marthe in months. My life feels empty.

 

Today my brother came home and told me that Martheʼs brother was an uncle. I guess I am a father.

 

Marthe is dead. And few people know about our affair. I must keep on with my life as though nothing happened. At all. Ever. Kid? What kid?

 

You think that after all these years people would write new things. But no, we all just love reading about insolent, troublesome teenagers.

 

A former student of mine called. He wants me to do a house call.

 

A damsel is bleeding from her ears and eyes! Sheʼs afraid of the sun! Like a ginger!

 

We must sort this out. She may be a vampire, but I canʼt tell the father. He wonders if her ʻlady timesʼ are just out of control.

 

Sadly, the patient is dead. Reports have come in of an undead woman terrorizing the townʼs people. A connection? Maybe.

 

Her fiancé has returned. Funny, since thereʼs all these suitors here, since, you know, we thought the fiancé was, you know.

 

Fiancé says his Transylvanian client turned out to be an undead, blood-sucking monster intent on coming to England. A connection? Possible.

 

This monster seems to have heard about our plot to kill him. Heʼs smart. Guess ʻmonsterʼ is not synonymous with retard.

 

D Mina: Hey, I think your new boyfriend is kind of a creep. Just take it slow, OK? Iʼm not sure about him.

Of course, she was seduced by Dracula. Some BDSM activity. It would be easier to deal with him if this whore could keep her knickers on.

 

We Sharpied her face and shaved her eyebrows, and now weʼre hypnotizing her. Doesnʼt seem to help a bit.

 

Somehow, this woman psychically knows where Dracula is. Everyone in the carriage! Weʼre moving out!

 

The Dracu-GPS hypnosis gimmick is starting to fail. I guess this very stylistic inconvenience will force us to explore new options.

 

We have reached Transylvania just before sunset. Dracula is being transported here by gypsies - of course.

 

Caught up, but they GYPED old Quincey. Luckily, we managed to kill Dracula.

 

Really, it wasnʼt that hard.

 

OK, OK. All we did was jam a knife into his heart. Why, after 1,000 years, could nobody figure that out?

 

No. Not a wooden knife. A knife knife. Forget the garlic and the cross. Whatever.

 

Why the knife? He touches the soul and body. Only his heart is vulnerable. Shit. I just killed the greatest Romantic hero ever, didnʼt I?

 

On my way to a wedding. A bum approaches. What does he want? Sorry. I donʼt have any money, bro. Go busk for change elsewhere.

 

He needs to tell me a story. Yes, I know: you lost your house in a fire, you did drugs, your daughter needs clothes, youʼre a veteran.

 

Hey, stop staring at me like that. OK, OK. Iʼll listen. Make it quick.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

On a ship with sailors, we were doing pretty well. We know whatʼs up and whatʼs down. We know that we were sailing south.

 

But then a storm. A perfect storm. The Weather Channel said it would be sunny. Assholes!

 

 

Can you guess where we ended up? Yeah, the worst place ever. Antarctica. So, so cold. We should have shopped at North Face first.

 

How cold? Have you been to Chicago? Imagine that, but 100x worse. And with only an all-male crew, donʼt ask how we stay warm at sea.

Then tʼwas a huge bird overhead. Let me tell you, enormous. The biggest Iʼve ever seen. Perhaps a sign from God. Or an albatross.

 

We figured, well, weʼre pretty screwed, so why not follow this bird? If nothing good comes of it, at least itʼll be something to do.

 

I, too, needed things to do. I looked up and thought, Thatʼs a pretty cool bird. I want that bird. So I shot it with my crossbow.

 

Boy oh boy, was the crew pissed. My arrow slew their good fortune as it did the bird! Who knew?

 

 

When our fate improved, they werenʼt pissed. When it got worse, they were pissed. Moody scurvy scum. Take a pill.

 

We were stuck in some silent and becalmed waters. Acqua acqua everywhere, but non si puo bere. Maybe I shouldnʼt have shot the bird.

 

As punishment I was made to wear the bird around my neck. ʼTwas a cool symbolic thing. A burden. Iʼd ROFL but for my arthritis.

 

 

Soon we encountered a ghost-ship. Like in that movie,
Pirates of the Caribbean
, or
Return of the King
, I canʼt remember which.

 

The crew played craps for our souls, and of 200 mates only I survived.

So here I am, wandering the earth, stopping strangers on the street, chatting them up with my tale.

 

And if I donʼt, a pain in my heart comes, a pain that a Tums canʼt even touch.

 

So anyway, have a good time at the wedding.

 

Note from Ezra Pound: Maybe cut 75%?

 

Let us go then, Marie and I, when winterʼs warmth is spread throughout the sky like a dead lilac breeding out in April.

 

I remember when I was young weʼd tread down the cobbled winterpath to the Biergarten, and drink us a few brewskis.

 

When we were entirely too smashed to keep on drinking, the barkeep would say:
Hurry up, please, it's time.

 

I would stand over the urinal, drunk, full of fluid, screaming:
Sweet Thames, run softly, till I end my song.

 

Im zimmer die Frauen come and go, sprechen von - ach, falsch Gedicht!

 

We went down the mountain and I heard my cousin shouting.

 

Yet once more, O ye Laurels, and once more! Now Voyager, much, much for thee is yet in store!

 

And I walk through the valley of the shadow of death and take a look at my life and realize thereʼs nothing left.

 

Là, tout nʼest quʼordre et beauté: Nessun maggior dolore Che ricordarsi del tempo felice.