Author: Otto S. Fishbein

We were at a policy meeting, they were planning new Sunday Comics — I didn’t want to rock your boat but you sent this dangerous note. You’ve been letting your feelings show; are you safe, Miss Gradenko?

I kissed America when she was fleecing me. She knows I understand Sunday Comics are free. And I miss America and sometimes she does too, and sometimes I think of her when she is fucking you. I love America, yo siempre he confiado en ti. I love America, ¿Por qué me tratas así?

Green grass grows around the backyard shithouse and that is where the Sunday Comics bloom. We are flowers growin’ in God’s garden, and that is why he spreads the shit around.

Sunday, why you’re so complicated for me, twilight? Waiting on the planet to turn to me, dark side…If loving you’s a felony now, then I’m a renegade, riding, trying to read the Comics ain’t easy ’til you dive in swimming pools.

Got questions with no answers. Can’t help me out, I need a friend, I’m losin’ faith in this world of sin. Tryna make ends meet with a week, no sleep; it’s like a cycle that never ends. I can’t contend with no handlin’, I can’t take care of no grown man — all by myself, cryin’ for help, but won’t get saved by no Superman. All comes down to the mighty dollar, greed and lust, abusin’ power. Clock is tickin’, hour after hour makes me wanna throw my hands and holler.

I got bad coordination, stuck a pencil in my eye…I can hardly wait to get back home. Why is everybody gettin’ paranoid? I’s only havin’ fun. Scumbags and superstars, tell me your names; I’ll make a bet you’re both the same. And I can see my lifetime pilin’ up! I can see the days turn into nights! I can see the people on the street, open those windows up a hundred floors below me. Pilin’ those houses up. pilin’ them higher, higher, higher! I can feel them swayin’ back and forth. Building it higher, higher–This tower’s leaning over!

Well, the bad gets worse, too fucked up and the hate grows more each day. So when the infected try to effect you, don’t listen to them when they say “Follow the rules and forget the bomb.” Communistical patriotic, the plan is subtle but it’s in the open. Kingpins Nazi scheme getting under your skin. Subliminal Fascism gettin’ under your skin, so you better wake up, US.

No one needs justice anymore, no voices raised in anger; we’ve all been tamed by our worlds…But I have heard of ways where people topple all injustice. No one lives their lives on bended knees and all bigotry is like a disease drowned in the sea and all can hold their head up high!

Hey, Ma and Pa, what the hell’s wrong wit chall? Fighting for love on an angel’s feather, why don’t ya’ll get your Sunday Comics? Well, it’s three the hard way. Doin’ it the wrong way — Ma hates Pa, Pa hates Ma, ;ittle sister say: “What the hey, hey!”

Congratulations on the mess you made of things; I’m trying to reconstruct the air and all that brings. The Sunday Comics are the compromise you own, but this is beginning to feel like the dog wants a bone. This is beginning to feel like the dawn of a loser forever.