Actually it makes perfect sense, I just don't care to think about it

I was not hungover but I felt like I had been drinking becuase my legs felt two inches too long. I stood up when I heard the doorbell. I opened the door. It was God. He made it very clear it was God because he looked exactly like me only he was wearing a hat that said "Foxy and Forty". I had made it clear to God three years ago that if he were ever to show up at my door, this is what he should wear. I wanted God to be awkward and ironic and hilarious. He wasn't very funny, which made me realize that I wasn't very funny. Still, he was awkward. He asked if he could come inside.
I said no.
He said he understood. I thanked him for his understanding. I suggested we go on a walk.
"It's a very nice day outside" I said.
"Thank you for noticing" said God.
I laughed. He laughed. We both knew his relationship with the sun and wind. We walked in the middle of the street. There were no cars, which was not surprising. I appreciated that he made this a special occasion for me.
I talked with him for about an hour. I asked if he minded if I smoked.
"Well, of course I mind. I have more nice days for you to see in sixty years." he said.
"I don't want to be seventy-five and senile, God. I don't want to be helpless and weak."
God nodded. God understood. But God disagreed.
"It's not always about you, Ryan." said God. This made sense because we were wearing the same tennis shoes and had the same haircut. When I heard him say this from my own dry lips it sounded like the Pacific Ocean, which I have never been to.
God walked me back to my room. I was worried he would ask to come inside again. He didn't. Instead, he asked this:
"Why didn't you let me inside earlier?"
I had thought about this before. I thought about it again before I answered:
"There's just no room inside for the both of us. I have a guitar in here that takes up all this room. My books are littered on the rug. My television is uncomfortably large. I think I may get rid of it get a bigger bookshelf. There's scribbled notes piling up in the trash can. It just looks terrible in there, God. I can barely stand to be in there myself. There's just no room for you in here."
He laughed. God's laughter makes me laugh. Our laughter is contagious.
"I understand" he said.
God walked away. I watched my body walk away. Apparently I have a rhythmic strut. I'd like to think that he meant for that to happen. But it mostly looks awkward.
I sat down inside my room. It wasn't really that messy. I was comfortable in my chair. My television was on. I turned it off and picked up the nearest book to me. Being alone was fine with me, there was no need for God to ruin this beautiful day. I'm glad he understood. I'm glad he left me alone.

This title comes from a jennifer knox poem. peter davis made me use it.

the ideal reader for ryan j. rader

emphasizes middle initials
uses self-referential titles
does not capitalizeor use punctuation
struggles with originality
wears checkered slip-ons
has only one hooded sweatshirt apparently
smells like cigarettes
tastes like cigarettes
fucking loves cigarettes
drinks on friday
drinks on saturday
fucks up on saturday
regrets on sunday
laughs on monday
hates february and march
is neutral towards april
was born in may
will get heart disease
or pancreatic cancer
from fucking smoking
or too many carbohydrates
and will be buried
far away from a church with
something he has written
to give to his favorite dead heroes
he will do the best heroin ever
with bill hicks and boba fett
because they are all dead
heaven has the best drugs
he will fight ronald reagan
and he will win
he will watch people read
something he has written
he will pray that somebody
understands what he meant
even though he has never prayed before
he will work on being
a better version of himself
he will quit smoking
he will stop shooting up
he will watch his work
be misinterpreted in classrooms
he never did heroin while he was alive
he will start smoking again
like he always

Crucifixion on the Interstate

A black Cadillac,
dead. Everyone feels God &
Hell inside. Jesus’ kidney
leaks mitochondria & niacin onto
polyester, quick & relentless. Stuck
there, under veil, writhing
excessively, yet zoic.

How to Beat Cancer

First
Go get some cancer
Cancer can be found in most major cities
And pesticides. Cancer is waiting to be discovered. Cancer is
everywhere

Cigarettes will give you cancer
if you smoke them one
After another after another like
Boxcars on a train, but the boxcars are
Your lungs and the train is
Lymphatic cancer. That train will
Also give you cancer if it is powered
By coal. Cancer is convenient and comes
In boxes.

You can buy cancer on the streets. A typical cancer salesman
looks like Hawaiian Hunter S. Thompson with dreadlocks and a leather jacket.
Ask for the Hicks capsule for pancreatic cancer. Side effects
include anger, denial, and bonus rage. Cancer salesmen may use cutting agents in their pills, usually newspapers and
guitar strings. This is to be expected. Cancer is
diluted.

Make sure you have cancer. Doctors are good
for this and so are certain animals. If
Your cat rubs her head on your neck, you may
Have neck cancer. Neck cancer almost always
Becomes head cancer. Cancer is
Logical and direct.

Now that you have cancer, do not die. Dying
Means you lose to cancer. Life is about competing
With death. Cancer moves quickly, is hard to defend,
And has a solid three-point shot. Cancer must be shot in the head.
Cancer is like
Steve Nash and zombies rolled into one cancerous
Competitor.

Do pushups with one hand. Let your cat see you do them, she will
Be confused and avoid you. Work on your crossover dribble and
Midrange jumper. Cancer is worried. Learn how to fly a single-engine plane.
You will soar over cancer. Cancer is small from space, and so is Steve Nash.
Stop smoking, this will
Add fourteen years to your life, and you will have the drop on cancer when
You are seventy-two and sleeping. Remind cancer that you have won, because you are unforgiving. Cancer will be embarassed. When you know that
You have won, knowing that cancer
is weakened and will never crawl inside you again you will learn
that death is a train and cancer
ain’t shit.

'Write it until it gets out of your system'

Questions for Cocaine Wolf

Where does your name come from? This is my first time talking to you.
Are wolves actually involved? I assume cocaine is definitely involved.
Do you sleep at night? I stay up late to read books and masturbate.
Did you graduate high school? I've heard you live around the university.
Are you registered to vote? I think I'll vote for a minority this year.
Have you traveled much? I'm taking a road trip with Jessica this summer.
Can you do backflips? I can do a killer impression of Freddie Mercury.
Do you stay warm in the winter? I wish I could smoke inside.
Can you jerk off behind the grocery store? Milk is usually three dollars a gallon.
What's your favorite Brendan Frasier movie? My sister stole my DVD player.
Have you ever seen Nebraska? I wish I could be a trucker, just for a year.
Do you read the funny papers? Calvin and Hobbes was never in my newspaper, dammit.
Are you tired of soup? Monday and Wednesday is pizza with Leslie and John.
If you find deodorant, would you use it? I ran two miles today in the August heat.
How does homelessness feel? When I heard your name I laughed, I said
'I want to meet that guy' and I walked to my apartment. Nice day outside,
don't you think?