tijuanagringo (tijuanagringo) wrote,

topic 2 ljidol


I Don’t Care About Apathy: What I "Should" Care About – But Don’t.



I don’t care about winning

LIAR Liar liar

I shouldn’t but I do.

I don’t care about winning but I should. I DO.

Liar liar pants on fire your nose is longer than a telephone wire.


I don’t care about winning but I do.

I shouldn’t care about winning but I do.


No. This is not appropriate. This is not ––What I "Should" Care About – But Don’t–– no this is not it at all.

That is not what I meant at all, T.S.,

because your women come and go talking of Michaelangelo?



Tijuana shockbox man walks by
clicking steel electrodes

attracting his customers
in this bar turistico


Assume another year I'll be
working the bluehaired crowd

talking New York tuxedoes
about their Cuban cigars

and him so.

I should care
about making you see the half-hidden and semi-perfect rhyme scheme, walks by / I'll be AND THEN electrodes / blue-haired crowd but I don't care because you either get it or you don't that's your pleasure, the reading, or not.

I should care about great literature and those cliché blue-haired lady patrons of the arts sipping wine and nibbling cheese but I don’t. Or I do. But no. I care more about being able to put the accent onto the letter "e". Yes. OR NO No no, that is not it at all, and not that beautiful feminine arm brushed with faint brown hair in the lamplight, either, neither, not, nel, naranjas, mama, and I don’t care if you call me a liar because it is NOT true it is it is it is.


But I don’t care that it isn’t what I should care about. I should care about it but I don’t. I only write to write and to be read. They tell me I should care about what people read and I do but I don’t. I don’t care what people think when I write but I do care what people think when they read. Do I contradict myself? Very well then I contradict myself Walt Whitman. I am vast, I contain multitudes. I am Thou. I steal lines of poetry from the good grey inverted homosexual closet. The doors were firmly closed in his day. Do I dare say that I don’t care? No. I should but I don’t. That is my stonewall. Shameless, uncaring. I should but I don’t.


I should be writing a beautiful piece of writing that will move you all to tears, instead of saying WHAT THE FUCK IS HE SAYING IT don’t make sense but no I don’t care so there.


I cannot believe that I was not eliminated in the first round. I would tell you that I don’t care but that would be a lie but what the hell I don’t care so there it will probably happen in the second. Ask me if I care and I will tell you know no gnu knew you when I knew you when. You knew me when. We are here right now. But I don’t care. That is a lie. I do care. I shouldn’t but I do. I should but I don’t. Go figure.


So blame Gertrude Stein and my trying to slavishly copy her sentences. That is impossible. Just because I’m an American I figure. Just because I was born next door to Oakland there is no there there and so I figure yes but no. No. No. No. It is imposible to blame me and it is impossible to copy Gertrude Stein. That is a lie. Those are both lies. I don’t care. I am copying her or not. You can blame me. But I don’t care. I should but I don’t. First I copied Whitman and now I copy Stein. And now it is not Gertrude but the beer steins that I remember. I should care about great 20th century literature but I don’t.

But I do. I lied. I should care about lying but I don’t on paper computer. You can figure me out if you read hard enough. That's all I care about. As for the great litera-turd gods well Joyce and Stein and all of them should just go fuck themselves silly for the sheer joy of having been alive. I have they had the same chance you do. So there here.


And so I don’t care. I should but I don’t. What? What do I care? Well… I’ll tell you again. For me, at this moment… this third instance of the great word “stein” well now I can only think of beer steins. And how we sang in the STUDENT PRINCE at starlight operetta


To the inn we’re marching

for our throats are parching

under fruit trees arching

in the month of May.


There is joy abounding

in our song resounding

and our steins are pounding

all in time.


Our paths may sever but I’ll remember forever. No, I will not either. I should care? Well, I don’t. I don’t even care if you say you could care less when what you really mean, what you really should say is you could not care less. I do care. Or I should care, but I don’t, and that’s a lie.


All I care about now is another good beer. Make mine Tecate, por favor.






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