King Bird and The Twitter Thief

"Kisses to you King Bird.
Let the wings spread.
Right then left.
Let the rain fall.
Let the heart melt against time.
You'll always be mine.."

At Bob's coffee
I vowed to never twitter The Lover, King Bird.
With a shivering cigarette in hand I proudly performed for the crossword cackle,
The knitting circle,
The ladies of the dawn.
"I solemnly swear to cease all twitting of The Lover"!
I proclaimed.
Ay Ay was received all around.
Ay Ay young blondie. "You hath made a wise and discerning decision" the ladies praised.
But was I ready?
Ready to cut off the light, rip the raw, pinch the pipe, withdraw, cold turkey, dry the jerky?
Was I ready to let it be, set him free
Counting
1
2
....3

Yes.
I'm ready. I made the vow. I never swear unless it's certain. For good, for keeps, rain or shine, till death do die.
So goodbye my beloved twitter sick tic.
I will not follow in the house
I will not follow out and about
I will not follow no way no how
I will not refresh or test
The twitter always get the best or better with every one hundred and forty
letters.
One hundred and forty ways to stay afloat and in the loop, get the scoop of his next big move.
Now you can understand,
The vow was most necessary. Most urgent and dire.
There would be no way out of the twitter hell fire.
Thieving and retrieving daily doses of a personally translated love prognosis
Is not
A way
To spend a life.

But it's so fucking tempting.
My blackberry just lays there, warm and vibrating. It wants to be twitted. It wants to be tapped and triggered. twittered. twittered. twittered.
As soon as I wake up it licks my face with a sloppy tongue and sniffs my neck and then...
"twitter...
the lover..
twitter...
the lover..
twitter the lover!!!!!"

"What the fuck?
You're talking?
Really?
You want me to twitter?
You want me to twitter?
But I haven't even...I haven't even brushed my teeth. I haven't even opened my eyes yet. I'm still fucking dreaming and you want me to twitter?

Alright. I'll do it" I'd say. I'm a slut. I'm a trick.
A twitter trick slut.

And it never, I mean never made me feel closer. Twittering The Lover is fucking crazy pants. Twittering makes you think you know what the twitteree really means.
I don't fucking know what he meant when he said...Well, I can't say what he said.
But I don't fucking know.
I don't know anything.
Humans are really fucking crazy people.
We do the most hilarious dance when it comes to romance.
Oh man,
Oh god,
Oh god.....I've done the lowest of the low.
I've twittered when it was not known.
I charted and checked.
I defined and mislead
Myself.
Twitter is a thief.
It is the black painted devil in disguise. It taunts me and ruffs me up real good and John Locks the shit out of me.
Smoke monster.
Twitter is the fucking smoke monster.
JACOB!!!!
I want to leave the Island.
This is the how and why of it.
The vow and cry of it.
The last of the twitters. The last of the chain link. The end of the dirt road I'm told. Here is where I truly set myself free from the twitter tree. Here is where I send King Bird to fly his sweet life
as
he
sees
fit.
Twitter this!
Without stalking or rocking the clouds.
I will let him be and I will be proud
again.
Of myself and what was.

So, I vowed.
I vowed for all that still may be.
I vowed for goodness and world peace.
I vowed for self love and self respect.
I vowed for the children.
I vowed for Jeff Garland who was looking on as I vowed.
I vowed for the future.
For Ono.

And for the King Bird.
Ah The King Bird, The Lover,
So lovely,
....Fly away..twitter your precious sweet wings. I shall twitter my way. You twitter yours. If we ever tweet in the middle it will be forever.
And if we never do?
Coo coo cachoo or tweet tweet or fuck fuck or
Cluck cluck.

But I will not steal away what is not mine.
I will not twitter that which is thine.