Counting My Blessings (from my unreleased spoken word album)

Because I am so incompatible with the commercial

I will begin this album in the least commercial way possible

It is so noncommercial in fact that even the most independent punk venues may ban me from performing

I will show up at 924 Gilman Street and get kicked out for not being commercial enough because I have chosen to begin this album with an apology

Many of you listeners don’t even know me yet, haven’t heard a single one of my a capella music recordings

Not even “Ionic Blondes,” whatever that was

And the first thing you hear from this guy’s mouth is:

I am sorry that I have been wanting too much

I have been like a spoiled child with my constant craving of fame and fortune

Because all I’ve ever wanted is before my eyes

I have been pining for whores while I am embraced by angels

One thing some quasi-enlightened parents tell their supposedly spoiled children is that they need to count their blessings more

It’s true that very few Americans count their blessings anymore, but I do, so here they are:

I am blessed by the mere presence of Beat generation writers and every hue of punk imaginable, with many more still forming

Daria’s actually on DVD now and so is Doug

I have as much formal education as Charles Bukowski and as much poetry, quality-wise and quantity-wise, as Richard Brautigan

My name will never be forgotten in at least one Internet community and at least ten IRL communities

I evaded living in the uberconformist fifties

I evaded being alive during the Holocaust and am allowed to practice my religion seventy years later

I wrote a novel

I’m not going to beg any of you to count your blessings, but you most likely have that option, and that in itself is something to be thankful for.









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