Wednesday, October 19, 2016

Thursday, October 13, 2016

What is that world?
    how does that still exist?
like a decaying museum of my family 
      all that STUFF
   covered in dust and
dirt and mouse poop
   buried in the barn
       thirty forty years
and the sign my dad painted
  when he put things by the side of the road

Saturday, October 08, 2016

Ocean Beach and Cam's Vanagon (x-processed) ©2015

every twitch
  in a sound
breathing deeply moves like a creek
 full of water fluid running
downhill over branches from fallen
 trees decaying into the floor
 of the forest/earth
  evil baby twitches
behind her $200 sunglasses
 and says "Why don't they fucking
clean this trail?"

Tuesday, October 04, 2016

Thursday, September 29, 2016

Wednesday, September 28, 2016

Curated arc
      Thou mitigated
The syllabus-centric
      Didn't do the readings
          Asleep at the back of the
    Round and round
And spinning
  Like a dervish sotted
    Scrub antler
On the backyard fence
Can I borrow your notes
Or your pee-chee folder with
The doodles?

Babs & Pap ©1999 Oil, graphite, on canvas

Untitled © 2000 oil, newspaper, baseballs on wood panel

Sunday, September 25, 2016

the placated antiquarians
       dressed in blue and red
             steamboats bound for Uruguay
                  lost at sea, presumed dead

Antartic explorers steaming crustaceans
          smoking Tareytons and drinking Tang
                  looking out over the ice
                      find a survivor whose name is Chang

packed in wool crates
         bobbing on the sea
                drinking cans of 7-Up
                       somehow survived, now drinking hot tea

the newspaper is months old
              but he reads it again
                       the stories don't change
                                 and no mention of his friend


Saturday, September 24, 2016

The Blades of Glass

 stars drifted like
liquor store signs
           we stumbled in the street
              the conversation started
             as the lights went out
 and the waltz
   was frozen
         stringed instruments
            walked away
                       we ascended in alien eyes
                           looking at the cars
 their headlights
       the dreamers were streaming
             videos of cats
                      but no one left
   until you started to yawn

The breakfast of champions
   like Rome or 
                   The Parthenon
                   dead Centurions 
                              strewn along the Rubicon
                spilling blood money
     for oil 
waxing the dishes 
    before the feast 
               the moon river 
                                  flows like pure virgin flesh 
the green grasses of Palestine
     the flow of the Tigris and The Euphrates 
     the swamp dwellers
    killing boars 
    in the reeds
    of Des Moines 
 Or Waimea
                                                                 we stink of dusty flesh 
                 we supplicate 
       in market share ideas
                            stoving in the craniums 
           of the didactic deity swooners
                   we song and dance 
       at money 
 and money 
   the Witch 

my glasses
are dirty
  the fog is back,
thank god
    summer heat
    is great
   expect SF
to be
   a certain way
                    don't fuck with my

The tables
have turned-
it's a veritable
  shit ball
                 of twister fucks
    nipple twister fucks
    to be exact
    or redundant
   depending I guess
    on something or other

Paregoric trilobites
   encased in Damien Hirst
      funerary medicine cabinetry
    "the wounds of time"
    (some foreign antibodies revel in myriad
asymptomatic retardants)
     Grossly misinformed,
   the electorate
     vote to have their feet
chopped off
       "...better than military flights over
 the Atlanta Falcons game or chicken fingers"
       something something something

the bearded end game
                                                 salacious bricolette byzantium stone washed
set apart
                     kind bud for sale
  and $7 gelatos
            seems too hot for a day like this
                        but the
                                                                cement went $100k over budget
fred said

prurient lapses
 in the remiss
 cake, candles, a wool blanket
     laundry piled in plastic hampers
              the toast is burning

The acorn or twig or some shit
 fell on thc car roof
 while I was smoking
        laid out
    in the back
                          listening to nothing
the car windows are open
     and i'm curled in a comforter
                              wrapped around my sleeping bag

      blades, glass
    broken round
                 butts can
                   steaming breath
         i see you
     the van is
        not waterproof
            buckets of rain
          the hoop guy
                                            seemed kinda like a dick

the Apache wedding
       was twin-less
   or half twinned
                                                  one was not in a good place right now
           many times
   I was the beard
            but times have grown
                           the van was cold at night

surrogate star centered
revelations re
 breezes and facts
in the reality show
of it all
i don't remember
    but i scratched
   the rasta guy
           he danced
on your
        no one backed him up
      not one
                                                     but it didn't matter
                                                           he nailed it

synaptic miasma
 the earbit torn
plague device that you left on the tv
   seen through a veil of october red leaves filtering the pumpkin latte

breakfast was oatmeal
    w nuts
           and coffee
   strong strong coffee
       then back to sleep
how do you do it?
   "I don't do anything,
                                              it does it by itself."

on the cover of
                            Who Cares magazine I saw
your picture
if you got a blowjob you should be thankful
well i'm not watching musicals
                                          (Southpark ref.)

banging and
   at 8 a.m.
                          outside the window
                                     all speak Spanish
                                sometimes Russian
                                               I'm trying to jerk it in here
                                                   go the fuck away

the deciduous, no, coniferous drone
flying and dropping pine needles
onto the hair of the enemy;
   the ground

steep forecasts of death
or life
the whatnot
or the in-between
some sutra dutra puke-tra
  the beads on your wrist
                   make you look like a dork

   don't say vertiginous
   say fuckall
    don't say
        say berned agin
                       as your orange face melts
(policy wonks)
                 strung out on heroin
           or social media
                stream baby stream!
I can see freedom from my window

the lights are on
      the highway
              on a bridge
                over water
     the fog is coming in

now its raining
like Sunday rain
                  smoking cigarettes in bed
  looking at pictures
              no news except
orange news
          we listen
   to the rain

the fall burst twitchery
echoed in lost friends
    with bad backs and
                    but there's always the sun
and the rain
       and old videos
             of drunken rambling
              to remind
                                                    of what we don't need reminding