Do not try, says Arturo Belano but in which book I forget. I went out on my bike today. I stopped at this concrete space, this concrete forecourt with concrete benches and concrete steps. It was a Manchester University building in Hulme. I got off my bike. A group of women were lying on the grass. Three times I had eye-contact from one dark-haired woman. But she was too far to see my face. I sat in the sun with a black coffee and a cig. I had got the coffee from a restaurant: Kim by the Sea. But as I sat in the blazing sunbeams I felt these piles in my arse, throbbing pains. I just googled: Haemorrhoids: swollen blood vessels in or around the anus and rectum. The stabs inside, as if a needle pricked into me, the stabs distracted my reading Godzilla in Mexico. It's a poem by Arturo Belano. Everyone reads Belano I thought. You steal from his poems. Everyone reads DFW. You steal from him too. At first I studied at Spielberg Film School and then I went to Bono Film School and then I went to Jagger Film School and then I went to Warhol and Burroughs Film School and then I went to Finnegans Film School and then I went to Kraftwerk Film School and then I went to Cormac Film School and then I went to Keith Haring Film School and then I went to the many Arts in the many Deserts Film School. I didn’t get a qualification from any of the film schools. But I tried. Currently I am enrolled in Belano Film School and also enrolled in DFW Film School. But all I wanted today was to sit in the sun reading Godzilla, thinking about the throwback UFO scenes in Fargo, the TV series. But there were zombie pains in my arse.
