caught his toetripped down memory lane it was different than Alices rabbit hole 

                                                                                           eighteen April twothousandeighteen

found All-You-Can-Eat breastfeast

                                   YES it was his he said it wrote it wasnt taking it backNO not taking it back

when he went on trips he kept an eye out for two

to date he only found All-You-Can-Eat breakfast joints or places his daughterwhen she was little called buff-its which possibly werent far off the beaten path at a breastfeast the women would have to be in the buff to the waist at least ORmaybe starched white blouses bone buttons unbuttoned pulled wide their fistsknuckles at the side of their breasts keeping them corralled in check while he gobbled kissed lapped sucked

                                                                            he might assume theyd provide bibs but being the boy scout he was hed have backups

Say smartie, why don’t you go to Nevada?

Nevada

Don’t you think?

Nevada  Ya mean 39 degrees 32 minutes 40.78 seconds north 119 degrees 22 minutes 22.43 seconds west

Huh?

      What’s that all aboutwhat’s with all the numbers?

Well since you were being cheeky those are the coordinates for the Mustang Ranch One you might have been suggesting correct

                   Besides  gotta sing out numbersfigures tout the classic 36-24-36  Would be unseemly if I didnt wouldntya agree

Oh. Gotcha.

Agree

Ohyes, I wasn’t thinking.

Think Stay up on your toes otherwise ya might trip stub them

                                                                  I know of what I speak

1224,  Monday,  7  2. 22

wordswoke roused him this morning

                                            words    slick  inspired  words

paella  pariah

year  yesteryear

                  Tell me a fadograph of yesteryear etymologically Shush  a fadedphotograph from an album     

decide  deicide

sheol  shades  hades

    melancolores black darkcolored  melancholies

atrahora 

        Yare wrong bub Latin  atra deadly terrible grisly  hora plural hores hours   terrible hours

brushed on hardsavagely  devil  diabo Oo  o satanas   O podre diabo

                                                                                     mas que porra WTF

he didnt need this shit mocking himworrying his early morning head

                                                                       mussing his hair                  

they rapped on his skull from inside Excuse me, excuse me . . EXCUSE ME

just wouldnt play nice

                      wouldnt concede make soft ombromanie make handshadows on its concave walls

  instead

           they jammedcrammed his cranium  ached its arched bones fomented his frontal sparred with his parietel ogled his occipital tiffed his temporal pecked at his sphenoid wouldnt etch birds butterflies bunnies reindeer giraffes lions and tigers and bearsOhmy  on his ethoid

                                                        Porky Pig stutters Tha – Th – Th . . That’s all folks!

   then appeared   decent  descent

                                       descent in  to   madness   decent in  to   madness  involuntarily he shook his head stirred his hypnopompia  taking-its-sweet-ass-time longtime  waking    then the words failingscattered dissipating were replaced by a pitch black slate

then on it paleblue squares maybe ten across seven rowsmaybe whatever it took to fill the field on the back of his eyelids

        then paleblue questionmarks appeared one at a time inside the boxes right to left next row left to right next right to left and on an on until all the boxes were filled

   then 

            a vibration a soft jiggling   pleasant  

then randomly  questionmarks faded and were replaced by dullthenrising to rubyred checkmarks

                                                                                                     perhapsperhaps a third of the questionmarks were replaced

                                           that hung in his vision until he truly woke opened his eyes

 

he remembered the words

9ish,  Sunday,  6  2. 22

1019,  Monday,  7  2. 22

John Coltrane Quartet  Soul Eyes  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GoYAGNLqFwg

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b9434BoGkNQ