Thirty-Fifth Entry

I hate it when it's cold enough to wear a coat but if you're walking down the street you break a sweat. That's about the worst type of weather in the universe. I'd rather get frostbit than that. Anyways.

A lot of things have happened. One of them involved me getting on a plane and going somewhere and then coming back. Another thing involved me playing cds for people in a semi-proffessional way. For more info about things that happened to me, please buy the STEVE ROBERTS COMPLETE EPISODE GUIDE by Bantam Books.

Here's my poem:

CHAPTER TWO

I slip behind you like a fever of shadows. I wear your clothes. I paint majestic frescoes in which you are Thor and you are chasing angels about. On the elevator I met a card-carrying Satanist. He showed me his card, which looked like a driver’s license. I asked him if he had a driver’s license. Then he turned into the Devil. I hadn’t realized I was in Hell. I had realized, but I was embarrassed to give away the surprise. I was put in an empty room for all eternity. There I found a saw, and a mirror, and those other things in that riddle I had heard, but I decided to leave them alone. I started to write my novel. Even though I had eternity I never got around to finishing it. But let me tell you about it. You never let me tell you. Your clothes are itchy, small, and the wrong color. Not that I would know, but I do know, you know? And some of the buttons are missing. I spent most of my life locked in a clunky workshop without much light and with many abandoned bicycles building a deliberate machine whose ultimate purpose was to find those missing buttons. But they are missing for a reason. First I had to test it by flying it from New York to Paris and I was the first to do this. At a certain point, while in the air, I became missing. It was great. Everybody you expect to be there was there. Amelia Earhart was there. Judge Krater too. And a lot of folks I wouldn’t have expected. St. Stephen was there. “Why are you here.” I said. “No one remembers me.” “But you’re not missing, you’re dead!” “We’re actually all dead” he seemed to say. Because he was a ghost. And he was right. I went home and everyone was amazingly dead! So I went and found the electric organ I had given to my friend Jade and I stole it back. Then, while wearing a respirator against the stench, I learned to play it. Now I’m thinking about writing a song.