Saturday, March 02, 2013

carafed
en cargo
corroded
en seine
mis
en boteille
I'm starving myself for you
and your stinking love

Down
down
down
the black sinkhole
down the Paris vacation
down the cappucino
and
dammit
down
the socks with holes
poor me
poor
tired
blogging fool
pissed el
whipped
sturm und drang
je bois de biere
sur le bord de mer
As the Cartesian delusion
sank into the mire
her relentless
expediency foretold
myriad indifferences
sewn like a pair
of patched blue
jeans, seventies
singer songwriter style
a trance of Dracula movies
were written down
on the back of a poster
she bought
herself another lease
on life
and thought maybe a puppy
was in order

Saturday, February 16, 2013

crafted like an etsy page
her startled look
was ironic yet indigenously
colorful

Burrowing into
his thoughts
like an hour on Facebook
he felt vaguely amused, irritated
and in need of a milkshake

the line at the club snaked
like a line at an Apple store when the new Iphone came out

there was no way to tell Judith he didn't love
her any more except to say
Instagram is totally awesome

Her binary features
were on off
on off
on off

He purchased
shoes
knowing they
were acceptable
and proudly
displayed them

His poetry
was written
because he had a lot of
pain

that he
didn't know what to do
with.

Awkward!


Have you seen the 
downside 
of starched 
and streaked 
and burrowed

believing in Jesus
is the first and only step 
toward true
compassion

Believe that your sins are unique
and the angels are
not there

Galileo's first look at Jupiter's moons
is nothing compared to that dress
you're wearing

As I was told he shot her through the door while she was hiding from him in 
the bathroom
what a cowardly 
piece of shit

Know that you are shit 
and shit is you

You were raised 
for excellence in all things

No one can turn from 
the fact that life is 
real and you are pathetic. Seriously.

   

  
    

flakes of the ill-refuted

floated down

like a February

snow storm

we sat in the car waiting to hear

the sound of the snowplow



when Time

no longer matters

the scratch on your hand

itches

because the cat is, well,

a cat


oh moo moo moo

you're such a milk drinker

can't you forget about

Rgbh for a minute?


Plains dealer

tribune

eating hamburgers

and owing the chiropractor

twenty dollars


"I've lived long enough- let's let someone else live a little."



Spooning in bed  while meteors

crash in Chelyabinsk

and asteroids

fly by at 36,000 kph


"Now that TV's are gone

what do throw out the window?"


The cigarette left a black mark

on the table.


Putin's a fag.





Saturday, December 29, 2012

There was a reminder
to open the screen door
Let the cat out
but it was ignored
the cat meowed
so I fed it

we had leftover fish sticks

the cat was not
interested
he took a dump on
the persian rug
in the study instead

My dad would find it later

or not
he wasn't very aware of
his surroundings
unless he was staring at something
it didn't exist
a roving band
of zombies could stumble
right up to him
until their drooping fleshy
hands were on him
he wouldn't even notice

his hearing wasn't so good either

or maybe that was a big part of it
he said what a lot
so I got to say it backing to him
"What?"
not very nice
he's old
but he would laugh
and then get some ice cream

they took his license away

but he kept driving
to the library
in town
and the to the all you can eat
chinese buffet
on Fenton St.
he called it Fen-Tone
If I was driving
which I do now
he would say
take Fen-Tone
one of the few things he remembers

They said he ignored the traffic lanes

and tried to make an illegal left on
Second St.
so they impounded his
vehicle
the van
he took a cab home
seven miles up into the hills

He thought the grass around the ranch house

was getting too long
maybe he thought he was a native american
and set fire to it
by a stroke of luck the
fire melted the main water hose
going into the house
and the gushing water
put the fire out
stroke of luck





on the morrow
of the felix ano
i spied
with my little eye
espadrilles
and
written
in Esperpento
j prufrocks sad story
of bitches comin and
goin
speaking of Michael Bolton
I lashed out
against
"the system"
fell up the escalator
and put mustard
on my fries
I was the seeker
the visionary
I KNEW
that my meds
were working
I had a universal remote
I could change channels
in ... another GALAXY
I wasn't the crazy one
I had a bank account
I didn't kill anyone
in Belize
time is my mistress


I is the saviour
lord god of small weaponry
I hath distilled from the fruits of
my labor
a chablis of kindness and
unforetold beauty

let he who is without a glass
buy the next round


1. If a course
of commercial Latitude
was insufficient to thoroughly
embrace
one's
true nature
listening to the ravens outside my window
will have to do

2. If I cannot make peace with all the
world I will make a piece of pie
and a cup of coffee

3. If nature has forgotten how to behave
and my stripes are backwards I will no longer drunk dial you.

4. As memory insists I am not to blame
I will act more kindly towards small animals
and larger game

5. To Time
I can only
say one thing:

6. The broken LP's in my sister's collection were
not my fault

7. If Love were an alien space ship it would leave alien take out food
at my door

8. Remembering is a lost art
and my memory is a broken tube of cadmium yellow
( this makes no sense)

9. I wish I had more
to say
but
I

10. don't.




I couldn't try any harder
so I tried softer
a cathartic irreverence
manifest in igloo like silences born
in a drive by shooting his name well thats up for speculation
something like cannabis or salt peter?
his motto was "Don't be the lookout"
the family crest was a mongoose eating a chicken
the backstairs led nowhere so that was where they
held their meetings sometimes they'd make someone
take their pants off but usually it was just baseball cards
and firecrackers

Times memorial was a baby ben clock
thrown through a window
see time flys
then he got punched in the eye by his dad

the gun was broken but they used it anyway it still
worked to scare the shit out of people including the cops
who gunned down his cousin Larry who
had only come along to get "data for his term paper".

after that he went to florida
and worked for awhile
on a fishing boat
outside of Delacroix

His parents knew he was responsible and
would send him money to hide their guilt
Larry's parents(his aunt and uncle)hired an old black man to
kill him but he and the old black man ended up smoking up all the hit money
on crack
eventually the black man wandered away and his name was forgotten

When he turned 22 he
decided to join the military
but was rejected due to Unsovereign Spinal Atrophy
he never found out what that was and
he never had any symptoms all he
knew was they called it USA
"You got the USA we can't use you."
It was the strangest thing he ever heard but he didn't even think about it

while he was hitching a ride
back to the coast the old man
who had picked him up said he wanted a blow job
he told him he'd give him a hand job for $40 and the old
fellow gave him the money and then immediately had a stroke and died

he put the old guy under a tree after
removing his wallet and his watch.
the apple is the tree it's not a matter of falling

drank and drunk

as far as the triumvirate of sorrows
played out like a five fiddle orchestra
festooned
in derivatives
and malapropisms
befuddled
and bent toward
nirvana
with toothsome
loathing
and double beehive mirrors
we are not without feeling
begat the begotten
begin the beguine
brag for all yer worth
and board the next train
if there is one

the stolen rivers
wet the weak
soured by lemons
and mangroves
arid in their distillery
perfunctorily resplendent in snakeskin leather and violet eyeshadow, amicably
turning the grinding mill
thinking of the temperature
and when to wait and when to go
"I am not the archer of your dream"
oh you, Sagittarius freak
go put on your nightie and your running shoes
I'll be here waiting with my drawing pad and
a spring loaded Deputy Dog
Oh, ever watchful
I wait, I am the waiter
not the one who serves
not the one whose fingers are snapped to
not the one who gets the order wrong
not the one who brings the bill
I am the waiter
ya know, like George Bush.
Mission Accomplished.

Bereaved
bereaved is bereaved like a
hydratic equation
death/loss over pain/suffering by time + (distance)
R= nothingness
B= Being
Rythmn and Blues
Lucille knows
so does Caledonia
and Annie
Charlie doesn't get it
I am not supposed to know
but we all know he's dead
and that's what fucking hurts













Saturday, November 24, 2012


on the sidewalk the raindrops
made words
like rose branches
as we drove 5 MPH
parked behind the space cargo delivery vehicle
parked on the edge
of the universe
of the housing development
listening to the trail
behind us
echoes of echoes of echoes
of our words

jumpin Jehosophat
Jesu joy of man's desiring
Jeez Louise
Jerry will take quite a beating
Jermaine Jackson

For all and
for all
Free for all
and free for none
B= none
we are the Chosen
ABC's
We are the Chosen People
(who else is there?)
Fuck the rest of them
God can sort em out
(like he has nothing better to do)

cream soda
colored
mensies
that's gross

pick up your toys
I've got a mustache for you

Are the red headed step children coming this year?
Please remember I don't eat road kill!

As the brakes on the Chevy gave out
AS the Mercury Montego'd its way
As such is such
and nonesuch so much less


Heavily added with a mention of
the exclusion of past friendships
carrying out the eurotrash




Sunday, June 10, 2012

Oh forgiveness
dropped from my
arrow bent letterhead morning
as the brakes
of the train
and the shifting crane
above our heads
looked dangerously swaying
we cleared out noisily
and took others in kind
to look at pictures
and take photos
I spent money
over 20 years membership
and bought a bucky postcard