brief
tshirt of arrested
abortionists
in MD

and the antwerp
pillars did spill forth
turks and armenians
onto the hydroplane
ferrying stuffed animals
to christmases past
beyond the Cotoletto Milano
to Kafe mit brot
go now
see if I care
I'm not human
you're human!
I pulled the bow back and let fly the arrow
reminded me of a thin tent pole
but gold
firing tent poles across
golden gate park
at Osaka Castle the
samurai shot at 180 metres
(2 football fields)
"can you hit that tree?"
Pain au Chocolate
and I forgot to take my pills
maybe that's why I feel so good today
that and not getting wasted last night?
oh shut up
your an idiot
"Interlopers!'
non retreivable
Ersamus
Is it the new year in France yet ?

maybe? ???

oh fuck france
its smells like cow shit

are you asleep
ya know AOL

you got AWOL!

K car Reliant
joey Buttafucco
Hal Leonard
the leonids
grasping at straws
Mercury
noh
noh
noh

noh
eye


noh eye
be leave




sex sex s ex



s ex


essex

surround sound
sourround sound
round sour midnight


slime
slimpsons
slarge

's large
es largo

you know how to whistle don't you Steve?

Rummy
Key East




baked
burped
and burnt
Tathagata
siri


Kundalini
Kahili


chrome os some

hermaphrodome
hermaphrodrone


landing in Iran

as it were
she said
we could meet in
the city
for dim sum

I'm floating
on my bed boat
sailing the ship to 'land of space sleep '
staring at nothingness
and
waking to dreams
running
now running

quantity is
a leopard
so many leopards
so many leotards
the breath of vapor
a frozen whisper
i'm sand bound
and the arrow points
at the ground
earth bound
with
property lines
and
fixtures
we trimmed the hedge
and hedge the trim
baked alaska
and calling all cars
be on the lookout
tan late model sedan
driven by a giant arachnid

by the 7-11 an old woman
was wrapped in a silk shroud
she was still kicking when two skateboarders
cut her out with a piece of broken glass
"this shit's sticky."

SHE WAS VERY EMBARRASSED
but grateful

down
down the days
of depth
deep
deep into the steps
my eyes!
he cried
but they were gone
deep deep
she said
oh my head
send me
send me
away I'm hopeless
cry
cry
cry me a tennis racket
and build me an air conditioner
or a swamp cooler
ah thermal comfort
so well
behaved

Barnabus McCleveland stole a saber
from the back of Ivory Cliffs mercantile
hid it down his pant leg and strolled out
outside he bolted for the wharf
his ship was set to sail at 8 bells

futz
flux
frugs
flegs
flogs
no more f's


what time is it?
I wanna watch tv
shut up

i need a drink
WHISKEY!
okay

let's go

nah

I'm hungry
OMG

put that thing away for two fucking seconds
really you're pathetic


haha
okay
have you seen my shoe?

why don't you paint anymore?

jumping jacks
are
spitting candy at the ledge of death
cradling a crow
and calling
for TV stars
we're only human
but we shop
and wear stupid clothes

jeopardized
by a test
of again, imbalance,
and who fed the fish
but footsteps in
the Tyre
and realizing nothing
no realization
just a bump
a noise
the sound of people talking
loudly
somewhere
and waking to the sound of a container
ship bellowing
in the next state
Nevada?
fuck that
anyway
it's belligerent
belligernet
the street
I'm pretending it's morning
so I can go buy a cup of coffee

drake
the bays
foregoing
estuarial
actualizations
and a mallard like Margie
worried about money
all for a little bit of money

hightail
the
invisible
\\\\\\\\
freak out
|||||||||||
bury the stone
somewhere near the hatchet
///////////////////////////
speak when spoken to
\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\
and never, ever
well, never mind.

Clayton Befurcacio took the pistol out of the drawer. It was wrapped in an old cloth. He oiled the chamber, wiped it clean and ran the brush down the barrel. Loaded, it felt good. Heavy. He put the gun in the pocket of his coat and went out.
As he came around the corner he saw old Mrs. Lefkowitz. She had always been a nice woman. Kind and happy. He said hello to her and then turned and shot her dead. She fell on to the sidewalk and her blood spread across the concrete and into the gutter.
Clayton ran down the street and turned down the alley, got into his car and headed for the beach. He liked living in a beach community and the weather was beautiful for late December.

failure to communicate
that's what we have here
"I've got idiots on my team
they're not going to rob us going down
the hill because we don't have the money yet"
no es nuestros
si es nosotros
I won't backslide, boss
taking it off here
take it off dragline
the man with no eyes

444 posts
now 445
I wonder what is at
444 Post St
I'll google it

I've forgotten the better side of me
but I can smell the ocean
AND i have a cup of coffee
its ok really
maybe I'll buy some stuff for the house and
fix it up a little
not working sure is nice
I don't like who I am at work

cremated again
birthing the unborn through the
telephone
land mine
land line
I betray
the phalanx and pursue the
perennial
in awe of mercantile decisions
irrevocably causing a change
of apartments
baiting the hook, as it were
and a drawer with socks

Somehow life is intruding on my fantasy. fucking life.

a physical memory is
rooted in the parochial
we stand
we sit
we moan
we yawn
we kick the leaves and
think we are a child again
somewhere in the distance
a dog barks

as for the man in the corolla
I couldn't say
I leaned over the mailbox
and spilled my Irish breakfast tea
fuck!

on the mirror of St. Paul frost
down the pikey
down doown the river Pikey
with pelts, beaver, and sorghum
he said he had a turtle shell
terrapin
but I didn't want to buy an Indian's teeth
and I was left shoeless a hundred miles from anywhere
RUN for fuck's sake
We will kill you if we see you again
but the sunlight feels good

ah
Tra la lee
Tra la lee
I'm dancing
in the moonlit night
but it's a spare the air day
So I guess a bonfire is out
stupid crescent moon
looking so god damn eternal
fuck you moon
haha
I'm not drunk you're drunk
I'm not as think as you drunk Iam
in the bosom of our nation
like the water pipes are made of lead
and centurions are scratching their sandaled feet
burnt and and stoned
smoking some shit ass kine bud
and wanting to kill a few Gauls
just for a good work out
we'll pour over the topo maps
in our LL Bean finery
smiling and applying sunblock
trying to decide which gadgets we should
bring with us
but old Tom only has his hammock and two burritos
and his pipe of many colors
I'm just now getting used to the idea

Or,
if not we could always pack it up
and head to
Laurel lake
past the great granite
views
captured on my timex watch
conferring with an unspoken agreement
that tomorrow's regrets will not be today's deeds
or something like that.

The Unfurling of The Furrow by Lou Ferrigno

in unmatched cadence
with a whiskey sour
a plaintive cry
in the woods
throwing lime in the pit
and saying a few words
for a dead bassinet

el Presidente
arrived in flurry of shaded
dark coats
at the
Hilton San Juan
earlier in the day
a street sweeper had been beaten
for leaving a dust bin near
the swimming pool
in the kitchen
the cooks
were involved in a laborious seventeen course meal preparation
for seven hundred guests
half of whom would be too drunk
to
remember what they had eaten
at the garrison Christoforo was polishing his boots

and the invoices scattered
belligerently across
his wooden desk
and on the floor a coke can tipped
and spilled
while fingers at the keyboard
flashing on lit keys
with
zaps of lightning
and a head dizzy with
prescription
blood pressure medicines
ah the fate the beautiful fate
of strangers
but it was time for a coffee break

if, for instance,
you were holding
an Italian Fucile di FanteriaModello 91/38
near Dealey Plaza
and you saw a man with an open
umbrella on a sunny day
who would you shoot?
the President?

as for the post
I've had it.
" "
I'm breathing here
I'm BREATHING here
and how was your day?

the coal bin on his head
a broken rim shot
driving to the back court
with smelly tennis shoes

i've forgotten more than I ever learned

undeterred errant knave
besodden
beswayed
betrothed
defrocked
unembarrassed
breathing freely
in the sky
waiting as wait
watches
erstwhile unconditional
absurdities
renounced by resuscitated
religions

an old sign for Gibson tractor in a barn in California

careening blows

mitigated by a parking sign
overturned car
fast walking woman
tomato on an everything bagel
one less fixie
the Kirkwood weather report
an old sign for Gibson tractor in a barn in California
the self check out aisle
the rear end of a very large fat woman
"of course I'm not indecisive"
after my father started losing his memory
he started putting things on the road next
to a hand painted sign that said
FREE STUFF

???/

Across the Marsh Siegfreid could see shapes moving in the early light.
He put the binoculars back in their case and stretched out.
"RUDY- where's the fucking coffee?!"

fried

burned

crisp

red

neck

and
worn
jeans
washing
and hanging the laundry
out to dry

there was a

notable absence

anshluss ferengi
a day of notable
what me worry-isms
as a million people just like
me purchase
plastic for my hair
plastic for my car
plastic for my teeth
plastic for my brain

in a sea of plastic pieces
a hundred million empty
bottles of coca cola
floating in the sea
swimming

As the first light of the day came up over the marsh Siegfreid adjusted his rifle and and looked through the binoculars.
"Rudy, make coffee."
"Yes Cap'n."

ivbefbb

dfv

ddw

bt
b

fbqn g

f
er5
b
qfb
tb
qn

The healing power of public ass grinding

Sunny sunny day
O beautiful December!

containment. Surely that was the answer.
what the question was though escaped him
maybe that was the question - containing what escaped.
escaping from what contained?
clearly the two were inextricable
escape
contain
escape
contain
einhorn and
finkle
maybe this was a wormhole
but again how could he escape the wormhole?
escape
contain
the event horizon
the second law of thermodynamics
even some particles escape the gravity of
a black hole

perusal of recombinant metamorphasii
inherent in unpredicated transitory
de-evolutionary ambiguities
- such was the content of his days
flailing about, writing poetry in his head
while trying to fall asleep
(after hours of self induced insomnia)
Why,he thought,could he not be more like Robert Frost?
although, he had heard, he was afflicted with a
compulsive disorder that involved fence posts
and fudge marble ice cream.

as such she was not interested
in anything remotely
having to do with a
scenario involving an unlikely chance
at inordinate unobfuscated derivatives.
Under a cold cup of coffee was a note from her housemate
about the recycling.

and the confusion hammered down
like a Nick Cave chorus
on a mixed tape

to leave
let the
air
out
grasp a sense
of
fuck it
and where the wind blows
but BABY EAT!
and LION EAT!

and work the sandwich bored

but time needs construction time
and sleep needs construction sleep

and I'm working
in the fog of my left brain existence

the merchant of Tau
in his fortress of sand
burying his thoughts
beneath a wind
bleaching the fence
that
separates
the sea
and the sand
bleaching his thoughts
with red death
and willfully
foregoing
a minute amount
of
hope
in the time machine
his sand clock ticking
and his memory wrung clean
kicking the acre of black boot
reminders
to stand at the vessel
to sing when spoken to
to sling a stone in Gabriels
face
and say is that scorpion for me
or you

tempt me oh lord
to brave satan's
cool visage
when the sweat is pouring
from my brow
for I am lost in the city
seeking a book
that no one has written
and never will

but fate plays a merry game
of ring around the posey
and we can shop online
and still be calm and poised

The hither lands speak
for the ages
subdivisions and new malls
our pathways are blocked
now with Ford Taurus
and Lincoln Mercury

we use the lost gods
to sell cars
but we have found war
is affordable

and I had no recourse
but to set sail
I could not
swim back

If I'd left the door open
while smoking
I'm not sure how these things are related:
I was given a poster for a candidate
to put in the window but no,
that's not it
we're talking about time's insufficient
ability to revive a certain type
of mannered effectiveness AND
the 1939 Yankees

a brusque burden
to a rolling stone
is answered in spades
marimbas by Amyl Nitrate
and Robert Frank
made a film in 1972
called Cocksucker Blues

I'd almost forgotten;
the lights down the arroyo
flashing lights
down near the lake

as the layers
of thought are
removed
the tears
at the skin of the
onion that your father wanted to eat whole at
christmas dinner
are revealed

slapdashery
extolling the toll
of non invective victuals
vituperatively invincible
I'm not looking a for handout here
but I can't get past the opera star
of course this means nothing to you
even less to me

a poor donkey
wandering the spanish
night

I had run out of potions
pushed all aside
tried to find meaning
in cereal boxes
Ahh the Lucky Charms
magically delicious!

I waited for the clouds to pass
to sad to think of
what might be left
So I in sudden thought
did see
an antelope with eyes for thee
and would I care to dance she said
Hare lip i screamed and ...

If I had a hammer
for every nail that found it's way into christ's
tissue
I'd be born asunder
rended mute
and frozen to the spot
that God in his infinite wisdom
would choose

post-glitterati
redundancies diffused in an arrythmnic
condensing microbial solution
basted for a minute
and left to wait in line
storied she swept her lipstick across
her mouth like a kangaroo
in the outback
and feasting on heat treated animal flesh
she coughed up an opinion on Truman Capote
"He's evil"
What? he wrote a book about between this and that
and some chameleonesque tales
but never mind she was being spurious and
evasive again
luckily she always came back after one of her
sorry tirades about altitude
and the effects of subdermal tissues in deep water
I fixed another martini and lay back on the veranda
waiting for a reported large rain cloud to appear
she burst into tears when she heard Truman Capote had died

i've left the darkened
woods
the archangel spoke
smite not thy brain
for thouest hath not brain cells
to waste
and seemingly good advice
I took the long bow and
towards the evening shore did
find
a toothsome hag
"Beware the morrow's eve
twill bring luck ye shall not wish for"
so I thought I should buy a lottery ticket
unfortunately
the secondary defense was impregnable and nothing was on
any of the other channels
I decided to see what was up on Facebook
the doorbell rang
I ignored it.

as the frozen
settlers left their
pre fab igloos
i was left with
a thought: do the birds leave the prison of the sky?
and then I remembered birds lie a lot so it wouldn't help
to ask
of course, settlers lie also. in fact they have no
pre fab igloos
and they aren't frozen
Damn lying settlers!
such was the fate back in
the old days
before the delorean cars
and Dan Fogelberg
back when mushroom clouds
were still a good way
to spice up an evening meal
and pepper spray
was made by Nabisco
We've learned alot since then;
Jesus was actually not a carpenter
but he did lay wall to wall carpeting
and was known to do mudding for wall board
in the sub divisions in and around
old Bethlehem township
As science progresses we are actually able to see clearer into the past then we
can our own here and now. Amazing!
George Washington, in fact, did lie quite a bit. Especially to Martha.
Darwin never really went to the galapagos islands. This was determined by igneous deposits in the pre-cambric shirt dept of a 1985 JC Penney's.
Martin Short was actually one of the founding fathers.
And Lionel Barrymore never actually existed.

We watched the sentinel light on the other side, passing the time smoking.
No three to a match lest one of us end up hit with a tungsten projectile. Strange that this would still be true. Since the colonization we've found many similarities with the past.
Lepzig says he's been trying to keep a list. I think he has trench mouth or trench foot, I don't remember which, on it. Also the three matches. Dysentery, fever, foot rot(maybe that's trench foot) anyway he seems to think there's not much difference between what we are doing and WW1 two hundred years ago. I say horses, where are the horses? And he counters what, we're living beings fighting robots and droids- same thing. And I guess he's right. Funny thing about robots- after a while they break down in the mud. But they can still kill you. It might be sitting there for six months and if you walk by it'll blast you. But there are certainly a lot of them that will never harm anyone again except perhaps by leaking their infernal bio-oil fluids into the water. Rudy says I-Corp has a vast filtering system before they send out the fresh water to the troops but I don't know-sometimes it doesn't smell so great. Charlie got flambe-d last night. Torched the whole left side of his servo suit. Luckily we got him out in time. He should back on the line in a few weeks.
We got cigarettes yesterday. So that means we're going out soon. It's a sure sign we'll be sent out. As much as we love the smokes we dread opening the supply drop and seeing them.

what I got so far from Otra Vez

Ernesto's meanderings
hunger and asthma
letters to his mother
and being difficult to enter
countries
no great sense of linearity
mate mate
a kilo here a kilo there
and photography and talk of
personalities, politics, poetry,
and character in less than a sentence
description
somehow money and studying
more photography
and more asthma
now he's married
and a description of chichen itza
I've started skimming ah well

the lazy beast
furrows in a wrinkle in time
scanning the multiple universes
for second thought
and breathing in
and exhaling deep smiles
of downward expectations
and meandered revisions
promulgating a time/swerve on
a mortal plain
pushing aside his eggs and bacon
reaching again for dark roast with skim
milk and wondering about the barrista's new glasses
"ah yes Wisconsin. The Badgers"
he sighs and a great paw swipes at the bacon

fergettin
the forgotten
borrowed
on a whim
breezing to the
finish line
I quarreled
and quivered
shook the
water from my back
bent under the load
and tortured myself unnecessarily
was not kind
to myself or the agent of god
and broke the boundaries
which are unspoken
punished with
furies
lashed to the mast of
my own bed
sleeping through nights
of shuttered dreams
and windy nightmares

as I operate heavy machinery
under the influence
of blood pressure meds with a GIANT
drowsy eye
and Statins and water pills
one of them says not to consume Grapefruit juice
or Grapefruits
another says it makes me sensitive to sunlight
so the things I need to avoid:
heavy machinery, Grapefruit, sunlight.
my sister used to accuse me of being a narcissist but I think I was
just smoking too much pot (to escape)

Florentine barrage of EM Forster
leather clad dueling pistols
embracing the David in Plaza Vecchio
but preferring Moses by Donatello
paintings by Claude
and a thousand religious scenes
I'm wandering outside the Ufizzi after
being kicked out due to a "general strike" for the
last two hours before closing
the Leonardo cartoon
Mary, Anne and jesus and john
that's a big cartoon

Goya
Velazquez
(bellockweigh)

Gypsies in Rome try to get their hands down your pants(pockets)
cats in the Colisseum
thumbs up

wandering at night through the winding streets
of Naples windows open people everywhere
wood burning pizza ovens
look out for vespa thieves
they'll drag you down the street

the cops are crooked too
with a shrug

The american consul seriously told us not
to take candy from strangers
probably good advice but this was thirty years ago.

meanwhile a basket of starving kittens mewling and sickly by
the interstate
so profoundly sad
cars blasting by

off to Capri!
the blue grotto
Tiberius

Tyco Brahe? the Danish astronomer with the bronze nose, did he live there?

We nearly got shot by a pheasant hunter on the hill by
the church
where they had so kindly invited us to
join their outdoor luncheon
The hunter ran off down the hill with the live pheasant under his arm

forge valley forge
RIGHT NOW RIGHT NOW
the children cried when they learned their
Halloween candy had been eaten
while they slept

as the fast of weary sighs
unremarkable in their uniformity
scaled back from
unrealistic goals
and untoward glances
from a computer monitor
HC has been accused
again
of untoward advances
and I feel like going outside for a smoke.

as whirring
noise
the dervish
destroys
amaru
Tupac amaru
from
concentric
whistles
burnt
offering
in mummified
hay
stalling for time
in
between the element of the look
in the thiefs eyes
cold as it were
from the cold
from the mountain cold
from the goddamn mountain cold
and eating snow
will only get you
so far and frostbit lips
will only get you so far
but the gun metal is cold
again
and a drink of whiskey
from a cracked glass

from the echolalia
echolation
echolocution
echolocation
identification of object from
sound waves
the marvel comic book hero
what was his freakin name
Daredevil
blind superhero
like Zatoichi
the blind masseuse
he can HEAR what number the dice will land on
Or Raymond Burr Old Ironsides, no he wasn't blind-
just in a wheelchair
did they have any blind detectives?
Blind Mannix?
Blind Rockford?
Blind Columbo?

Blind dolphin
detective speed racer
Go Speedy!
blind monkey
in a race car

my pumpkin has a mustache
actually it's the invisible man
pumpkin wrapped in muslin
with yellow ray bans
and a blond mustache
it was made based on my likelihood
likeness
(at least the mustache)

there's nowhere to go now
everything is here
on the fucking internet
grandma's house ain't grandma's house no more
it's a bed & breakfast
where Abe Lincoln may have given a speech
see? all the people on the porch in this photo from 18 something
fNA in my dna
do you have any idea what you're talking about
no
but it doesn't matter does it?
it's almost better if you don't
that way it's not so complicated
oh but it totally went viral
that used to mean a lot of people got sick

it could be problematic,
the funds from the mustached pumpkin
were promised for the festivities
erroneously it seems
and so it goes
day in and day out
one hack session to the next
some get a new dog
others sunglassses
some have children
some quit and are seen smiling
the following Monday
but it's hard to believe they would submit a
styrofoam pumpkin
it's not even a real pumpkin!
wtf?

smoking weed outside the kilowatt
waiting for the pats to lose
shouldn't that guy be in "prison"?
now drinking a german beer
laying in bed
listening to the peaceful breeze
blow the silk tablecloth
I use to keep the neighbors
from seeing in
Ya volg herr commandant
alles klar?
the chain fell off the tandem bike
riding on Halloween as the jew and the Arab.
and then off to Pedroville
Dave hit the floor
just fell down
I've never seen him that drunk
passed out on Jeff's bed after the cabs
wouldn't take him home

sometimes
you just want to shoot
an arrow at your heart
or drink till you are oblivious
forget the
pandemic
existence

on the back chance
that any of this
is at all relevant
or even worth bothering with
the confessional
of the laptop
trying to make something
"palpable"
from
what? a life of underwhelming ...fill
in the blank

emptiness
folds like a cinnamon bun
sweet and sticky
xylophones are made
somewhere
in a factory
in a xylophone factory
there's a guy who works
there
he's on his break
the whistle blew
he's in the break room
eating a cinnamon bun
emptiness goes on working
unpaid

as time marches backwards
the sand of the rivers is counted
grain by grain
the tiny holes on the ceiling of 1962 volkswagen bug.
How to count them all?!
and time marches forward
into the wayback of scratchy industrial wool-like material
and now I'm surrounded by paper
a river of paper
flowing in and out of the pauses
in my sentences
flowing in
or somehow dammed up permanently
and unable to voice a
a phrase
but still
"yum-yum"

Aphrodirty was swayed
her tresses in disarray

"who's got a smoke?"
Flirting from the edge of the
water she slipped from Pans gaze and
surfaced with a laugh

"what manner of god are thee?"

on the north side a herculean effort was undermined
by the glance of a demi god
"pshaw"
"Let's eat the mushrooms."

a gratuitous bequest
at the request of the henchman
in furs
moseying forward with uzis from the colonel
and bemoaning sub saharan internecine
trivialitites, like a solid gold smith & wesson
or virgin watch women
bodyguards of the soul
for the afterlife,
a painful shot to the forehead
a cry for mercy
after crawling from an irrigation pipe

as the sands of time slowly move backward
erasing what is and what was
and the smile on the sphinx at
the thought

something slipped
from the wallpaper
the nose of tristam shandy,
gore vidal and
Barbara Billingsley

a convention of practicalities
weathered by white noise
the static of scenery
a doe, a mime,
dick van dyke and Buddy

startled from some kind root beer float afternoon
slaying a ground squirrel with a .22
flying in the face of adversity
and wondering how he does that

A Cristol ship of
sparkling wine proportions was sailing
from the Port of dreams on the coffee table

Dr. Bacchus was in his office.
His nurse came on the intercom.
"two men here to see you from the CIA, doctor."
Bacchus opened his desk drawer,removed a vial of tablets, opened them, took two with water and cleared his throat.
"Tell them to go fuck themselves"
"Yes, doctor."

effulgence
is binary
motivation
for the erstwhile
transcendence
promoted by the vagaries of abstruse profligation,
in other words "Back it up, Bonehead"
Mister keester brain has taken the backseat to an adventure
in stereo
and a remote sensor has indicated a stop at the Taco Bell drive thru
is mandated
"Forward Thinking" that's what we need!
His glove box was not without it's faults

Mr Time marches on
wendell the earth clock
is breezing his life away
what a dog!

as the underwhelming feeling
of corporate
monarchy
pursued
a logical tangent
mistaken
for Hive-like
borg-esqueian
ravings of the tempered
steel and under duress
concrete waves are broken
by sub harmonic dissidence
and the folds of existence march to the tune
of down syndromes
and we the people
e pluribus unum
and other
methonic tutelage
creeping through our tv's and are you going to eat that?

pre dawn earthquake
woken to a jolt
now eating some
kind of non gluten
flakes
and low fat soymilk

ahh the end
newspaper clippings
and stacks and stacks
of
boxes
filled with the seeds
of the trees outside the house

I might need those
I might need those
I need those

check the light switch
did you?
check it again

in the basement are the
ceramics
under sawdust
rat poop
and wood scraps

dig and clean wash and sneeze
can you smell the photo chemistry
and the stacks of photos
she was a professional photographer
for a few years

before the baby

his knowldege of
the local Groceterias
was encyclopedic

which had the largest rubber band ball
which owners were named Mohammed
which would sell looseys
which could you shoplift a cold beer

towards the end he would only speak of the red man
and the time, Halloween
when he had given him
a jumpsuit

before he knew what was
wrong
it was
and he was and
it was
and he felt the need
of chik-fil-a

the font of knowledge
an unbroken chain
rivered in deep canyon
and pulled from
the mouth of
the silver ore
twisting in sycamore
and the bleeding
stemmed from dehydrated lips
twas a remington over under
and cassius clay pronouncements
I am The Greatest
before slowly sleeping in
until the pain
subsided

if the room on laussat bred
beat era dreams
woven in the smoke and cat hair
the
whiskey beer and whiskey
the cigarettes and boom
badda
boom
badda boom sh tip sh tap
he talked to jim Carroll
one night
and left for New Orleans
repeatedly
he used to wave at them out the window
and later sleep with them
running across Market st one night
against the traffic he dropped
his gin and tonic
99 cents at the Church St. Station

chro-mytial
creamora
creosote
and cryogenics
cry baby cry
the path of least existence
morning glory seeds
were said to cause tummy ache
and beautiful
hallucinations
He couldn't cope with a Chrysler coupe
phlegmatic
and phylogenic
he smoked a filtered cigarette and didn't
think about Jack Kerouac

2:31 AM rene: go to bed
g
2:32 AM me: what are you doing up?
rene: just waking up
me: oh I just woke up also
rene: getting a shot in my back this morning
me: shot in the back
2:33 AM like frank & jesse james
rene: for my herniated disk
me: cortisone?
rene: yes
maybe will held
me: well hopefully that will help for a while
2:34 AM rene: help
will see
me: what else?
rene: but..got to go take a shower
2:35 AM getting ready to get out of my house by the first
me: wow
end of an era
rene: yes
me: good for you!
rene: 10 years
me: hasta la by by
2:36 AM rene: lots of crap to throw out
me: i bet
rene: car in the shop
running good again
sell???
me: ???
or store?
you need cash
2:37 AM sell!
rene: thinking of shiping it?
fuck yeah
me: to France ?
rene: yes
me: not bad ...
rene: need a car there too
me: yeah. how much to ship?
2:38 AM rene: ?? got many quotes
800
1400
2000
2400
the list goes on
me: any custom fees?
rene: ?
on the other side?
me: yeah
2:39 AM rene: dont really know yet
2:40 AM me: That might be a good idea =taking it with
rene: hope so
me: you'd look good
rene: ha
me: 5oo bad it doesn't have the vegas plates
rene: they are in the trunk
2:41 AM me: haha
nice
rene: ok got to take a shower
me: okay go
rene: clean my ass
me: have a good day
rene: u 2
me: ok ciao
2:42 AM rene: ciao

from the court of the
Gentiles
irony there
the money changers
the temple's own coin

a stone was
a stone
and it was good for him
he wasn't(stoned)
and the sunshine and air felt
good

tellurian concentricities
parked near the Sprouse-Reitz
and venturing from sporting goods to
bric a brac
he swallowed his fear of used clothing
and pushed his way into
the air conditioned St.Vincent de Paul.
a cloud of ennui enveloped him
it smelled like an old record album
and was shaped like a plastic cover for
something unknown
he veered from the BOOKS section
careened into shoes
stumbled on framed artwork
banged his shin on furniture
lost his mind in wigs
luckily he could see his car through
the glass
he made for it and didn't look back.
he heard a voice as he started to insert the key
into the car door
"Archie?"

Following Arthurian analogies
he metastasized
a druid like
polyp
the sword in the kidney stone
was felt somewhere near his
"lady of the lake"
and three maidens in starched whites
could not avail themselves to
his relief
Undaunted he, in purple and dark crimson,
drank a dram of meade
and passed out in
the barnstable
toward morning he espied
with clear thought
Ganymede's steadfast unity
and closed his eyes to
worrisome dreams

bedraggled
purveyor of scrabblesian
aramaics
His half shekel existence
was eroded in arctic fashion
a sno cone vista
apanopolic down comfort
for one low price!

based on reports
the sense of urgency
was heightened
chronic doubters
were steadfast
in their pursuit
that evil had ocurred
at some forementioned locale
and the demon was sought
and vanitized
as effigy
and myyrh

s'mo tig
s'mo tiggle
smo taggle
smo too

I'm drowning in air
and so are you


s'mo tee
s'mo tie
smo tinkle
smo bye

I'm living the life
and I'm not even high


can you catch a bus?
can you ride a wave?
can you read the stars?
can you sit in bars?

smik smik smick
smickers bar
bare handed back watered
sliding along
the serpentine

The man who put advertising on the moon

We focused laser imaging from simultaneous satellites,adapted the technology to scheduled satellites and using 24 hour solar energy and multiple satellites we generated sufficient electromagnetic radiation, a fancy word for light, through a process of optical amplification based on the stimulated emission of photons to umm, well, shine images on the moon. The technology itself was not groundbreaking just the application. Well, it caused quite a ruckus. Coca-Cola quickly bowed out due to a planet wide groundswell of hatred toward this most blatant commercialization of the beloved Luna. We were hit with multiple lawsuits and the international fervor threatened to cause a world war. My photo was on the cover of Time, Newsweek, Wired, and many, many other publications with the title of the most hated man on the planet. It was impossible to go anywhere. I never thought people would care but when that green Mountain Dew logo was beaming down from the night time sky people went batty!
Needless to say I was forced into hiding and became a ruined man. My wife left me, children disowned me. No one would have anything to do with me. But, really, I have to say I thought it was pretty cool. NASA put a man on the Moon but I put the biggest Coca-Cola logo ever, right on the moon. We even showed films. My favorite was Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. On the moon! Who are those guys?!

Troy DaVinci was tired, Dog tired. He had been working for ten hours on his latest invention, the redactable transmodifier. He had figured out the problem with the antwerp capacitators but he was having trouble connecting the oscillating pinion arm to the enveloping chassis.
As the only living descendant of the famous Leonardo vast expectations were put upon him. While yet a child he had created the screaming nightmare reducer which secured him not only a sizable income but incredible fame and media attention. Since then his inventions had been received with only mild curiosity and lately a certain amount of derision. The Confounding Foundation Flayer had been viewed as failure, as had the Primitive Peoples Perplexity. After that had come the Giant Wonder, which was far from wonderful. A store clerk had lost an arm during a demonstration and his insurance premiums had since skyrocketed. He had taken the clerk into his employment and made him his assistant but the young man was far from grateful and took every opportunity to remind him of his inability to play the lyre which had been "his calling".
Troy sighed.
'Why do I continue on these adventures in futility?'
He poured himself another glass of Ouzo. He hated Ouzo but it was the only thing in the castle left to drink.
From the window he could see out onto the Great Lawn where his current lover, the princess Deltrina Malfosa, was rolling in the grass with Sven, the hirsute stable boy.
'Darn, they have such innocent fun' He thought to himself.
He lit another Marlboro and watched them holding each other in the grass as the sun slowly set.

PV

of all the snow
birds no
one was immune
they were not waiting
for the inevitable
but it came anyway

a poem gets on the elevator

I pushed the button to the elevator
fifth floor
and Charles Bukowski's poem
stepped in.
It stared at me hard for a split second and then looked away quickly, reeking of
alcohol, cigarettes and
the horse races.
"Going to see my publisher" it said. "I think I might be in print next month."
I got out at the wrong floor and took the stairs.

Beat the windows felicity!
cadaver the ingenue

Popeye says well
BLOW ME DOWN
and the
Sox ain't got no Rico Petrocelli

ghastly ruin
burrowing in the sanctity
of earthen ramparts
we assailed the stars
with satiric melodies
and stormed our senses
for an emotion

the white walls
spoke to my sense
of classic humor

sanitariumesque
Lenny Bruce like monologue
from a Diane Arbus photograph woman
with some strange bonnet
and talking at a pace I would hard pressed
to compete with.

sanctity of the streets and listening to
the voices
muffled through walls
a missing Hello Kitty umbrella
and a child told to take a pill

smoke another cigarette
eat a Payday , drink some bottled water with bubbles
on the doorstep
as the housemates friend
with nowhere to stay leaves the
house with her suitcase
at 10:34 pm

Oh what a movie

movie starts with this:
Iggy Pop working at Gas/Mart

driving around the lake
watching the sky
for aliens or Gargamel
firing at police cars
with their sirens blaring
turning into gin and juice
with my mind on my money
we stop to get coffee
and cigarettes
Iggy pop is working behind the counter
his name badge says Iggy Pop
it really is Iggy Pop
we're embarrased by the whole thing and ask him
if he's ever met Todd Rundgren
He says he did in the mid-eighties in
San Francisco
but now
there's a line behind us so we say good by
"loved the stooges, man"
even though I never really listened to them
and we're back on the road
for some reason we start fighting
"that wasn't really Iggy Pop"
"yes it was!"
we stop talking. We're listening to the radio and suddenly
Lust for life comes on-
bomp bomp bomp bu bomp bomp bu da ba domp

'Here comes johnny yen again
With the liquor and drugs
And the flesh machine
Hes gonna do another strip tease.
Hey man, whered ya get that lotion?
Ive been hurting since Ive bought the gimmick
About something called love
Yeah, something called love.
Well, thats like hypnotizing chickens.'

I say "yes I have had it in the ear before"
I am just a modern guy

Protagonist wakes with a start from sweaty morning sunshine dream, sits down at the computer and starts tapping

Across the river the Fornicators had put up their ramparts. We hunched in the drizzly rain wishing we were back home. Occasionally they would fire off one of their, what we called, splatter bombs. These were largely ineffectual and usually dreadfully off target. Once one landed in a nearby lake and killed a large amount of fish. That was a good night. We had a fish fry and Rudy played his accordion. We could hear them across the river doing that weird whistling thing they do whenever they sense we weren't completely miserable.
On Tuesday Jeroge said he shot one of them and it seemed to be the case because all day we could hear them rearranging their fortifications and firing their guns randomly.
After the third war the Fornicators had risen from mutations of their cerebral cortex. They were known as the Fornicators because of elevated testosterone and progesterone levels and because they spent about ninety percent of their waking hours having sex. One escaped prisoner said he had been impaled in every orifice repeatedly for several weeks. And, from the look of him, we believed him.

I don't know what I'm doing.
I don't have anything to say.
My life is boring and there is nothing
worth telling. Everything is just ego. some perverse desire to be
recognized as some kind of smartypants.
it has nothing to do with wanting to share anything. it is about me me me.
that is all.

step

step
broken
wood




step
step

on





shotgun
evening





listening to the



sound








breaking 'in the humdity
of perspiration sweaty armpits
n a cold frittata


expired
milk

a half gallon

moo cow milk
moo cow





sitting

in the




grass


smoking a cigarette

and


hoping




hoping


for the


clouds to pass

Muriel left her groceries in the car.
The rabbit was obviously not ticking.
But that didn't mean there wasn't cause for alarm.
placing her hand on an electric eye she pressed
toward the wall. The small of her back was pushing against
the edge and it was starting to leave a painful mark in her skin.
This she imagined. But that didn't mean she didn't feel it.
It was awkward. Horribly awkward. She tried to shift her weight but
there wasn't a position that would be easier to do what she needed to do.
Suddenly with a crash the whole thing came down, ledges, tumblers, davenport,
and the fennel.
The groceries waited in the car.

my partner in crime has hightailed it
but that has not
stopped or slowed me down
probably the opposite

i've taken to robbing thread stores
and wallet factories
the lack of surveillance is stupefying!

I guess I could live my life on the lam
but that seems too easy
I'll live my crime out in the sunlight
waiting for that crisp smell
of the changing season; Fall.

endless
head over heels
breaking wheels
felling insecure
and boasted of a brain
i'm trained
to denigrate
all that which is right and good
sit you down father rest you
for I am the light of the light that has
lighted
the world
are you ready?
no ?
well take the essence of
doldrum
and and mix with vincent
and a toxic dose of ex angst
and ya know
al lomax
would take you to the smithsonian
to show you a stolen anecdote
and dignan is a name
broken family
broken hearts
broken vase
broken time
broke and bored
wm shakespeare never had it so good!
the von trapps live down the highway from the Frosts
all in good time my pretties!
all in good time!

pressing the flesh
for a simpler
season and freedom! but the free
is not cheap
the toll it takes is on one's skin
and liver
a penny memory
pressed to oval
"the new ones come out better"
but if I could be, looking at the photo online,
like you
with space to breathe
and porta potties still
stocked with paper
forgive me lord
for I have sinned

funnel cakes
and biofuel flakes
they're GERRROOOSSSSSS

my fortune waits
with late night yogurt
and blueberries at the bottom

abreast
The Furies,
Avast Ye PRIVATEERS
songs sung to thyself
in reeds of glass
I know my body's electric

United for Defeat

an enormous
head cold
walked into
a protest
typewriter
typewriter
typewriter

with leaves of yellow
amber

positioned for a 64 Camaro
and
spell check
spell check
spell check

I dont eat no fried foods
no more

what with my triglycerides
n all

barking at the unison of
non standard stoppages

in farcical fashion
one must preserve the appearance
of allowing God
to kill

and people oh people
so dependable
we are a violent and stupid bunch
but so lovely and sweet!

night and dei
day and nigh
T
T is for time
stuck inside a BART train

a river of thoughts
flooding into action
behind the corridor
behind the white door
testing
the response
with alchemical aspirations
turning cocaine into sleep

behind the versions
of redheaded stepchildren
which are buying and selling our
future
the GREAT SNAKE has risen
with forked tongue
and a thousand smiles

Oscar Wilde watching tv

i've broken my emptiness, left it by the sound of a door banging in
the wind
and the
sound of
the Red Sox
losing
10 in a row
somebody
could be breaking in right now
to kill me
hopefully they won't be wearing a red sox
hat that
would be unbearable.
"either that red sox hat goes or I do".

theres
a world
youre li
ving in n
o one else
has your pa
rt. all gods
children in t
he wind take i
t in and blow h
ard. we are le
aving. we are
gone. come w
ith us an
go on. i
n the m
ountai
ns. i
n th
cit
y.

Toothsome
vagaries
of Anus Mirabilus
loathsome and decrepit
varietals
of
cross pollinated
endomorphs
specious decay
of fennel like
abrasions
gonnorheic
infusions
and parliamentary
delusions
oh sooth oh say
oh soothe can you say
by my twats early flight?
andro antibodies
smoking sensory deprivation chambers
and encircling commonplace eskimos

poop
pop
oh pop poop

poop swarthy
pop smitten- esque
unfolding

line of aged
palms
Florida Palms
not sand Francisco
bejeweled and driving Lexus,
Lexii
stopping for gas and Tareyton 100's
through a haze of clear bright sunshine
and the heat waves of
summer
on tar roads
waving like aliens beating a hasty retreat
moonglow
in the jukebox
art tatum benny goodman
don rickles
fucking price of milk is going through the roof
goddamn dairy farmers
moving in polyester
envelopes
and ray bans
from AC to AC
talking on the cell phone
will he ever shut up?

tease me a
snake oh BRATTy
BRATTY
secret sales
WHAM-O

HARD rubber super ball
hit it over "the hill"

Cherry Picker
Apple Crate
Banana seat
sissy bar

throwing tanbark at your head
go see Mr Rose

one kid crying
one kid taking responsibility
one kid not saying anything

SLAM book
cuss page

#10 Fuck!

Now
in the next
room
with
hardwood
floors
and
oh fuck a wheelbarrrow of OH FUCK
a bulldozers worth
of yeah,
OH FUCK
and all that comes with it
OH SNAP
OH MY yeah omg
OH fudge-ickles
SHINY
SHINY
boots of shiny OH FUCK

slinging OH
FUCK from roof TOP
from the BIG TOP
in the center stage
straight from Belgrade
Minsk, and Addis Abba
a grand white ride of
OH FUCK

a grand cork snortin rip tyin'
ball draggin' OH
FUCK

guaranteed to please
Money back

shiny
shiny
boots
of shiny pussy

pussy juice
pussy juice
pussy juice

no odwalla here!

Sharon
Albion
jew of the 16th st night
broken
affluence in desert boots
the mirror for the cellist waits
upstairs
with the cat
and the large televisions in
every room
a row of bicycles lie
against a wall
and one hung from the rafter
but each nook and crevice has
turned to selling that which is dear
and temporal
and could be forgotten

Michael Jackson
Michael Jackson
Michael Jackson
Michael Jackson
Michael Jackson
Michael Jackson
Michael Jackson
Michael Jackson
Michael Jackson
Michael Jackson
Michael Jackson
Michael Jackson
Michael Jackson
Michael Jackson
Michael Jackson
Michael Jackson
Michael Jackson
Michael Jackson
Michael Jackson
Michael Jackson
Michael Jackson
Michael Jackson
Michael Jackson
Michael Jackson
Michael Jackson

ska
poo

ska poozle
casbah blue
mooching
on the damrac
sweet Angelina
gypsy eyed and tortured mouth
lips like two ripe
figments of my
imagination

ska poo
in the street
ba dingle and
fartnik
russian fartnik
we will destroy you!

sput sput sput
oh yuri please come home from space
i'm dissolving here in vodka
my mind and mouth are yes, tortured, sell me a potato
sell me a soul , give me
some peace in the
gottombed place
i'm drying my jesus toes over
the fire
I'm wearing the robe of
spontaneous combustion
i'm drowning the river Nile
I'm drowning in da nile

ska poo
in the street
alligator shoes
and vintage
linen

ska poozle on a leash
i'm going for a latte

money
running
up and
down my
sleeve

catch the flies with
vinegar

catch the shit with
sugar

pouring myself a beer
to catch a buzz

scratchety blues playing on the
stereo

Man there's a lot of trouble
down here in Houston

frack
the freakin
earth
drain your brain
fer money
yee
expensive bMW driving
whore

the simple life is
death
eating
yer way to
an expression
of quandary
can you forgive
the forces of nature
for fucking one and all

wind is spirit

calling

throwing the picture

from the wall

LOOK you

in the night
cold wind
like water

breathe in
let go

just air

Down by the river
he shot his baby
where he was livin in a van
with Chris Farley

Green Day breakfast cereal
pour in some Jessica Simpson
a couple slices of Rush Limbaugh
a cup of hot Sarah Palin
and you're eatin',
America
oh you betcha

flys buzzing around
the bulb
the rotting meat is laying in the sun
weird they use cfl's here
put a light meter on that
as he heard gunfire
a kilometer or so away
the fuckers
they'll be through here soon
let's go
into the white peugeot
and down the alley
"fuck those bastards"

disheaterned menus
in a tgi fridays

Monkey
monkey
Monkey
flying winged
Monkey

I can't repeat myself
I just can't

what would it take to lose
all this conscious of life awareness
bullshit
time has destroyed the vestiges
of innocence
everything is SOMETHING

maybe I should smoke pot!

and be goofy stupid and happy
and paranoid

maybe I should
maybe

the fractured axis
bent to the will
drowning in delusion
The I is speaking
and you BETTER LISTEN
but really i'm joking
get me another cup of coffee

and heres a tale
on a dark towel
lays a great beauty
save for one fatal flaw
her mouth
she opens it

the sands of the isle of Capri
are white
and in the water
polished smooth broken
fragments
of pottery

Oh you HAVE TO see the Blue Grotto
but I didn't
I was hungry

ghost of Babarian

some stupid
some not
but in all
yes
jesus open a window!

Hey Ho
Hey Ho
lost in the snow
speaking with a descendant of Robert Frost
in Derry NH
with fulsome
tiredness
and white eye
blinded
vertiginous
decay
and snowy sap of pine
breathe like cloud
of frost myrrh
a dogs tracks
leading through
the woods of gentle
quiet achingness
dopey and sneezy and doc
are rolling again
watch the zip line
ye foresters
peril betaketh
thee
in dark and gloom
by light of window
and cold of winter night

his bloody eye ball
rolled down
the table
I've had enough of this album he said
as the turntable fell
into the sea

crappity
crappity
crap

the way of
the ghost

barn dooring it
steam rolling along
in his
hooded
eye wink way

crappity
konkity
krapenzee


traffic got
stuck on
the Krapenzee
bridge

i told you to take take the turnpike

shoot the freak
at Coney Island

don't wear white after Labor day

morning
document
merger
request
I love those kind of emails!
then code and import into excel and then we'll
fire our cannons at the French!

down sub!

torpedoes to the helm!

what's for lunch?
deli fresh?

I love their vegan spring rolls

12:30 meeting
sales data request analysis
overlay percentage per region
census overlay
should get you where I think you want to be

40K
thank you.

um can we reschedule?
again?


god damn

wheres that hacky sack?

worst blog ever?

summer

sky

cold
no rain

feel the love
like
monkeys from heaven

touch the magic
like a bus in the city

drown in dry sand


moving

to the beat

starting to end

starting from the end

like a video game

or an autosave


drafted to

fight for army of none

burrowing into

regression

theres great real estate

to be had

just look out for

boll weevils


don't ever forget


what time it is



911
911
911

porsche carrera

you mid life crisis



blah

what are you waiting for?

as I waited
a cup of coffee
sat on the sidewalk and watched
pelicans without merit
couldn't walk for the
goose shit
and dragging the lake
for beers and pot
the Scottish Rites temple
was edifice like in our vision
although when we went in he had his
feet on the desk
and was smoking a cigarette

Tom Wilson/ Brooklyn Bridge

film got a little fogged

Weekend Getaway

By the slapdash
morning van load
"git er done"
awoken by late night text from Lenny on vacation
asking what I need

Fire permit. where do we get the fire permit?
don't want to burn down the Mokelumne wilderness without a permit
do we have everything?
it's gonna be pretty cozy back here.
backgammon
tripod
chair
soccer ball
guitar
sunblock
bananas
meds
sunglasses
book
cooler
check
over and out.

Onstern dsotern und der einster blaaten
zigluhgrot!

Sunny Vacation in Juarez

strobe portal
enfolded and boring
morning sores and
ancient yellow toothed crone
crying for lost loves NOW dead and dying
entombed from ruins
like Mayan bog dance
burying the fragments of
Ixcthothatlotl, uncovering
the roots with coca leaf diversion
unsettled remorselessness
digging the dirt of
rooted underground underworld
with faces and hands pushing up
through
the hot sweaty destitute reality
scratching for a gallon of gasoline
mexicans bloody mexicans
more and more
wearing cowboy hats and driving late
model SUV's Ixcthothatlotl will
be embroigled, attenuated, enflamed
by lack
of prescient heedance
divine remorse and a headless body.

Beer O Wulf and a Soggy Map of Pennsylvania

Beer O wulf heads to the corner store.

On the lone plain a destitute figure carrying
a map of Pennsylvania and a sword from the Knights of Templar meeting house,
lurches violently and then rights himself.
"I am the Ur-risen, the saved, the holy of god/Death and I shall be I unto thou, brethren of humble prostitution!"
He flayed at a juniper bush which artfully dodged his swordplay.
The map drops from his clutch and lands in a puddle.
"Damn"

Who said love has to die?

the waves
are coming through
gases are emanating through skin
release of toxins
through meditation
the artificial light is sending waves
waves of pain
into my brain/eye
sound is fracturing
on skillet egg breakfast
I'm waiting for a cup of coffee

PBR in other

Beer O wulf rises
oak staff in hand,
PBR in other
"to war to vanquish TO LIQUIDATE!"
great hoary headed
fur entrapment
grizzled to the bone
and wearing new brooks brothers suit
"HELLA HECKA HELLOS!"
Hailing a cab he mis-manuevers. The oak staff falls to
the gutter with a clatter.
"DAMN!" reeled in and door slammed.

The Difference

the difference is whether you ironed
the shirt
the difference is not a pill
you've got to be a certain way
to be happy
you've got to
commuting sucks
plain and simple
where is the air
why do I have to look at these people?
who are these people?
I can't talk to them
most of them I don't want to look at
or talk to them
i mean I could, thats not a problem
some of them are just plain weird or
worse

If I Could Forget The Past

chocolate frosting on your fingers
not so bad
everything else pretty much sucks

all the worlds a mess

Joe: Leave it be.
Nasr: Aw shut up.
Joe: Leave it be, I 'm telling ya.
Nasr: Shut up I'm telling ya.
Joe: lets go down to the concrete and look for cans.
Nasr: Cans cans cans I'm sick of looking for cans.
Joe: Are you sick of eating?
Nasr: Yes.
Joe: Fine then I'll eat the last of the chips.
Nasr: Give me those!
Joe; Haha always the same complaining complaining and then hungry.
Nasr: aw screw you
Joe: Haha
Joe: tell me about the puppies, willie.
Nasr: aw shut up.
Joe: Do you remember that cable show "I Was Born Down Under"
Nasr: No. That's a weird name.
Joe: It means Australia.
Nasr: I know.
Nasr: Down under, like down under your dress.
Joe: No, there was a guy who only had one arm, in the show. And, he was kind of a real asshole. You'd think if they had a guy with one arm they'd want to make him a nice guy.
Nasr: Why? that's the dumbest thing I've ever heard.
Joe: You know, like, sympathy for the handicapped. Don't you think they'd want him to be a nice guy. but no, they make him kind of a real prick.
Nasr: Good.
Joe: Good? whattaya mean good?
Nasr: I mean good. I'm glad he was a prick. Fuck being good.
Joe: You must be hungry.
Nasr: OHHHHHH
Joe: Hey, do you think we ahould get back?
Nasr: I thought we were going to the concrete.
Joe: I think we should go back.
Nasr(picking up a 45 record): What the fuck?
Joe: Who is it?
Nasr: IT'S A RECORD!"
Joe: What band IS IT?
Nasr: I don't know. The paper's gone.
Joe: On both sides?
Nasr (Singing): I've looked at records from both sides now...
Joe: Haha Judy Collins.
Nasr: Judy Collins? Like Joan Collins? Dynasty?
Joe: Judy Collins. THE SINGER!
Nasr: I've looked at clouds from both sides now.
Joe: ah shut up. I'm hungry. Let's go back.
Nasr: Okay (tosses record)

I'm playing pinball at the edge of the Universe

ker slot- um
ker slot -um
chink
chink
chink
Ker slot- um

woke up at 3 am and had a cookie. Tollhouse.

diving down deep into the bluey black

Oceans and sky
sucking up disease

The future is grim
too many
wanting
too many
burning
into the bluey black


pa chink
pa chink
pa chink

all the way now

let go!

into the bluey black.

Mr Millbrae's Miniature Mauser

"Hey, that's a hammer."

Mr. Millbrae fashioned, with his penknife(from a chunk
of pine).
a miniature Mauser.
"Damn Nadzees"

way over yonder where the bluebells sing

Cabling High
Mannfred Mann blossoms
burrowing bloomed
and bastion
solidarity in numbers
solidarity in numbers
whay
whay whay
why am I here?

whay
whay
whay
way over yonder where the bluebells sing
why
why
rose will bloom in nuclear patch
of skeletal letters
a rose will bloom in
march death march
of
chain reaction
the community-ists will
want for peace

trying
trying to scrape the
sunlight from your
tomb
moving down
moving down now
kentucky rifle wood
gunflint blue
on your fingertips
moving down
now the gears
are turning
I'm turning
the blue flint gun metal
aging

whay down yonder in the
Injun Nation
way Dow in the algonquin
hotel hammmer

way down

I could have been a contender

asiatic fever
bending the
ritual no
i'm at a loss here
echo-y laughter in between the buildings
car was spray painted
but that's no more
nothing
i'm speaking to ritual
and sex
hazing
the cubicle mate
for bagels and shmear
and coffee
and the one with
blond dreads
piled high
won't be "back to the kitchen"
two numbers in the same seat
the flapjack
restack
am i making any sense here?
fol de rol
fo de rol

but am i speaking to ritual?
go shave she said
and stop worrying

Vermeer maybe
in Kundlistsomething museum
way the fuck off in
vienna
reading mass market paperbacks
in a youth hostel

will they be gone?
like ripped from the cover
and sent back to a publisher
dime store dickwads
i'm trolling here
moving forward into
literary forgetfullness
Boschian bagelry
garden of earthly cubicles
restack flapjacks
"man, you are going too far" laughing
when I asked for REAL MAPLE SYRUP
but the ritual is now not speaking,
spoken for
summoned
just the same big dumb building staring back at me
it's not like I asked for it
and it's not unusual
calling New Hampshire
about light bulbs
ritual
RESPONSE
but now I'm going to light a cigarette
and think
that's ritual
dot dot dot
echo-y laughter again
that's cyclical thinking
like in the back of the car
waiting for the police that don't exist
in Livermore
I wonder if he had been to the fire station
are you following this
ritual speak?
speaking to?
well no not that
just don't know here
something again
and on
for the time being
and the sway of that big dumb building staring back
staring back

Part II
oh give me a home
where Mark Rufallo prones
where the steer and the cantaloupe pray

Part III
fellow with a big nose
to trip you up

it's an affront
to my (very soul)
ee cummings like poem

I am the BEER o wulf
great hoary hair headed
pylon of pilsner

dire endings

oh dire
you are so tired
SUHleep
POHlease
before I do something
DERastic

perusal of persuasiveness
intoned in your tomblike response
attenuated to a retort
and holding a cigarette
that you just snuffed out

In a World of Stoned

smooth move smooth move
drinking drinking drinking
smooth move smooth move
drinking drinking drinking

foraging agin
in a stoned underworld
in a world of stoned

reminded me of a time when i was at college and my car ran out of gas... after a week I got some gas, put it in and started to drive down the hill to the entrance of the campus which was a four way stop...my brakes didn't work, they went right to the floor and at that moment a motorcycle cop was driving through(did I tell you this already?)and I missed him... literally by inches... if he had been a few seconds slower I would have mowed right over him, probably killing him because I had an old heavy 62 ford fairlane and the suspension was pretty low... I never really thought about it but one day I wondered what my life would have been like if I had run him over...I probably would have been convicted of manslaughter...

flulike symptoms
heat and uncanny
awareness of skin sensation
to smoke or not to smoke
in this heat
dried up
phone vibrating urgently
the window is open but the sound
of a lawnmower
beats against my head
dying in the suburbs

memorizing
post androidian
malfeasance
i squirrel away two
bushels
and forage amongst
the blighted orange and lemon trees
across the hall
a large
vesper
of antinomial proportions
is watching a video
and eating popcorn messily

aluminum cans

his shirt
was torn
the wound
bled through his fingers
she said "oh, you're wounded".
he said. "oh it's just my heart."

reaching through
the broken artifice
his vexed countenance
persuaded the masses to
be calm
and find their voice
to reach beyond
the battered ramparts
to the arms
of the children
the lie down now sweet dear

a summer of July's

The breakdown of
meaningful discourse
served on a bed of spinach

smokind
puffink
burner

feeling
fracked
fucked
and
fore lorn
ambient
temperature
blue bottle ass
cold
searching
for
something
and coming
up
empty

spent
sent
shent
snuffed
puffed
duft
damn
sam
ham
pea
she
we

japanese for because

becasu I love you
becasu the music is pounding
becasu I'm drunk
becasu you're beautiful

not becasu
just becasu

shit what does it mean?

why am I laying here in bed typing on the computer at 8:04 am on a saturday morning in July. I should be watching cartoons.

It doesn't seem like July. None of the months seem any different anymore. I guess that's San Francisco. Foggy and cold even, especially, in the middle of summer. Genius, pure genius.

Downstairs is getting his bump bump on already. Who plays that shit at this hour? His housemate said his music has a lot of *ounce* to it. And yep, it does. And she lives in the same apartment. haha he's starting to boom. weird. I guess he just doesn't think about other people. it sounds like some crap rave music from the nineties. fucking toad.

zoinks,
like a ping pong ball
bouncing down the sidewalk
i'm wary
of awry
no left turn unstoned
I've passed a marker,
a milestone,
a warning in stone, do not build
below this point.

I Ching yesterday

The I Ching response to my question;

ken k'un

the splitting apart

IT does not further one
To go anywhere.
doesn't seems so auspicious!

yet...

The upper trigram stands for the mountain, whose attribute is
stillness. This suggests that one should submit to the bad time and remain
quiet. For it is a question not of man's doing but of time conditions, which,
according to the laws of heaven, show an alternation of increase and decrease,
fullness and emptiness. It is impossible to counteract these conditions of the
time. Hence it is not cowardice but wisdom to submit and avoid action.

hmm... do I ever do the right thing?

rainy saturday afternoon

His music has a lot of "ounce" she said. He calls it science psychedelia.

On the beyorn
token
of the waiting
driving

down
down\
down
and down again
through
mesquite and sycamore
tumbling rocks
like spaceships
in my mind
down
down
down
again

through knotty pine and beech
the joshua tree with its arms up
reaching up to god
beseeching the sky
maybe for a little rain?
or like an alien waiting for the mother ship to return

phone home ET

eat your reese's pieces
spaceman

and don't answer the phone (can't they fucking ever text?)
dang it anyhow

Can't make it South for SXSW?

I heard there are a lot of beards, cutoffs, and aqua sunglasses.

I watched about half of the movie Slacker yesterday. It takes place in Austin and the plot just follows random people as they go about doing their day. mostly just young people though, I didn't see them following any older people. One older woman got run over by her son. Another older guy was conspiracy theorizing ad hoc including mention of the greenhouse effect.
"it's hot out today, isn't it?"

would that I could
San Francisco
in it's Grayness
In it's Gayness
in it's (no don't say it)
haha

LOL

I'm becoming a rain drop
Van Ness
No Loch
No luck
No monster
the hydra headed creature
up from the depths
is where we live

with seven headed hills
the gate of a mouth
wrapped in orange and told it was gold

Haha

LOL


I'm swearing at the the thought of
riding the bus

Haha

LOL

I'm brimming to the rim
with coffee
(actually no I'm not, just a few cold sips from last nights cup- but STRONG)
i'm turning over in bed
and going back to sleep

Haha

LOL

and the rain hammered down
gathering sand in it's weeping eye
clouds of thunder passed through the night
with rumors forgotten deity
prolax
prolax
my vigilant wanton ness
I am The Loch
for thy breast
I am the I
that reigns in the night
alone with the wind
to talk to

breathe for it
be for it
dont forget
Forget

Forget

do not forget

wait like the sun for a film
by WIm Wenders
wait like the rain
for another chance

passing the moon
passing the moon
tis closer now than she shall ever be

this is your chance
take it
grab it
seize it
carpe de Luna


for getting cheese is not eesy
\the mice run free
on toes of leather
bent to the hood ornament

arrival dissent fortitude anger
broiling in the madness
toiling in the weary
anger
toiling in the weary danger
breathing the fire
of forgetfullness
seize forgetfullness
seiz the platitude
rake the latitude
of non descript leaves

leave now forbidden echelon
dasru urzala
dalai rimpoche
dolly LLama
como te llamas
counting the llamss

moribund and fecal
without the
leaf or bud

crying over cryogenics

steep the tea leaf
leave the tea green
for spleen unseen
and a crying death machine

something like a Subaru

I'm going to write a long poem
now. full of encylopedias and earthworms
cicadids and bifurcated PVC pipe.
I'll do something, say something, write something
long and effortful worrying all the time that
this isn't right or that shouldn't be that way but in the end
it won't matter . why? Well, because it won't. Becasu. Japanese for because.
Becasu you said so. Becasu I said so. And who am i? The one who gets to say.
So shut yer pie hole. and listen. to a story about a man named jed and the cement pond. Granny said she wouldn't cook any vietnamese if jethro killed them. but that's not
anything and I'm referring to myself as some kind of a metpahor
phor existence, best not misspelled . my typing is bad, poor. my typing is poor.
but it gets words into the machine. i could tell you a story about typing class in ninth grade but I won't. It's boring. So is this "long" poem. Becasu.

He could hear the song coming up from downstairs.
from that depressed songwriter who killed himself
"mmm wish I was you..."

They fried their weapons
in the deep fryer with a batter
from Marci's Aunt in Huron country

They fornicated on the grass
"How'd you get those grass stains?"

the boiled their eyes in old fashions
the bar smelled like, well, like the way old bars smell.

They had a propensity for laughing. Everything could seem to be funny.
Like Mr. Wilkins.

They ate their weapons silently sipping Coca-Cola.

a bad morning

I'm supposing
it's not

if you look too long

following an uncorroborated misgiving
he spent his nickel
on a bottle of been there done that