by Travis Mateer
Travis one-point-oh is a real drag. His official status of perpetual butthurt has rendered him insufferable and incapable of being a normal person engaging in small talk and generally enjoying what the world has to offer.
Does he really think a trash/moving service is going to save him from the financial nosedive he’s on? But I MOVED A PLANE he claims. Oh yeah, Travis one-point-oh? So what?
I moved a PLANE, not a mountain, because mountains are things reserved for County Governments to move, financially speaking, on to the OWNED part of the ledger. So now Missoula owns a mountain, but can’t pay first responders, so they’re left panhandling us for money.
I thought panhandling seemed cool, so I tried it out, both digitally and in-person, but like most things I’ve attempt these last 4 years, it’s been a bust. Maybe Travis TWO-point-oh will have better luck.
The old version of me is just a sad country song now, wondering what automatic payments will bounce due to insufficient funds. I guess waging an information war against the local power elite isn’t a recipe for financial success or wider acceptance among the alt-media grifters who make their living selling crypto and dick pills. Go figure.
Don’t worry, as the TRASH ALCHEMIST I’ll take my tulpa-thought forms and transform this heap of trash into a GOLEM of potential for future use. I even wrote a song about it!
If you’d like to meet me and give me money, or listen to how I exhibit my Mutha Fukin Methodology, I’ll be on campus for an hour starting around noon today. I’m trying to NOT amplify myself, but we’ll see how the morning goes. As a poet, I’m obligated to remind you all that April is well known as the CRUELEST month. For me, I got that lesson early on, and it hasn’t left me. Maybe that’s why I’m daring the motherfuckers to make me famous.
Thanks for reading.