Watch the Dung Beetle

Watch the Dung Beetle

Why I keep rolling forward to a sweet new career I am haunted by dreams of going back to college, at my current age, no less, and with a full head of gray hair. I am living with an assortment of strange young people in dorms or apartments with filthy kitchens, sinks piled with dirty dishes, and no drawers or closet space. The only restaurant in any of the many hallucinatory towns I come upon in sleep has thin soup, mashed something or other and saltine crackers. There is only one book for four classes or four books for one class, but in none of these towns does the college bookstore have any of the texts I need. I am never registered for the semester until I’ve missed too many classes to obtain credit for attending. I show up anyway, once I search forever to find...

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