INSTRUCTIONS

					a   parody

			copyright@1995 Charles R. Johnson

	You are strongly advised to clean the shit
    out of your fucking fingernails, bud.
    The postman knows much much more than just
    your name and address, in fact, he knows your underwear
    size, worse yet, he knows your wife's.  The burning
    wagon wheels in the sky are giving you directions
    to Loran Green's house.  Listen for those 
    Goddamn bats flying in the attic.  Wrap your clothes
    around a stick and burn them to chase those Goddamn
    bats off; Remember, if they get in your hair you'll
    go crackers and start beating off in the shower where
    hair will grow on your hands and some dike will
    marry you and make you miserable.  Move slowly,
    remember sharp corners cut, and it's your Ass;
    if you think I can stand your flatulent gas,
    your brain's donefor.  Place at the edge of your
    tombstone one hundred thousand Rats and
    bury your mother who has been mouldering in the house
    for  years.  Bury the Horse.  Strangle it first.  Eat
    daffodils in the sunlight and run in circles like a
    sufi dancer screaming like a banshee till you die in
    the evening.  Eat a golden cross and lick the
    wisdom off Jesus' festering wounds and keep an
    Astec calendar and turn up in Bombay
	A poor slob wog running a cash register
    in a jewish deli:  Time was, you had your
    chance, so now drop dead and have sex with
    a railroad tie.  Jump off a building . . . show
    your insides.  Everybody hates you, the pigs hate you,
    that small fellow you just passed on the street
    hates you. . .
	He wants to stick dynamite into 
    your left ventricle.  He wants to coat a strip
    of magnesium with LSD and burn a bright hole in
    your brain.  He'll take a holiday on the anniversary
    of your demise and poke your eyes into your skull
    and use it as a maracas.  Your head is festering,
    you desire to break too many mirrors and who wants
    all your bad luck?  What's nine times seven?
    Take a left turn on the freeway.  Take five.
		Forget it.