What We Thought

Was all wrong.
Polish apples
from Poland
fresh fish, rotten eggs
long-ish legs

"look at them stems"
look at them planets
Mercurial, to say the least

Jupiter's beard - Roman Gods

Flawless as Goddesses
brawny bronze,
stained copper windows
see-through statues

Fake tits
baked beans
make me swoon

make me dinner

make me lunch
boxed up in a paper bag
Only drink water
So don't need
no juice

Rejoice

closed

war.    war.   war.  
where are your thoughts.
your bones   are wars.  
your heart    is no muscle
won't say what it is.

sadness
at the cinema    is sadness indeed
boyhood dreams    two-sided &
incredibly wasteful
fold together closed.    Closed.

you make me want to live again

i haven't yet met you.
what are you like.
how do you dance.
where's your home.
maybe we'll make one.

you know (silent, smiling, smug,
you know, you know, you know)
or maybe you don't

have you taken everything
you wanted. have you
done things you regret. that's not
a question. i'm pretending
this means something.

i am only tender

maybe everything is alive
maybe a branch is a-bud
somewheres

maybe a boy ain't a band
if his mug don't shine

remember when? people
never thought the world
was round

they never
they never thought the world
was round

they round          (up)   (everything lost)
they polish their apples
they round up to polish   the
last of the apples ,  the (they; roundup)
   the last of the apples.
  t h e l a s t o f

Kumquats & persimm-
on tea and juvenile games
that we play.Juvenile
goddam games. everything (invisible
juvenile)

is electric
everything
is    for sale.

Everything's a goddam juvenile game. 

an abandoned boy; pity

an abandoned buy
an item, you know
an upbraided boy

a bear cub
is a nightfish
in a dayglo nightclub      HEY
   drinks grown in a tumbler
   chicks with chinks in their timber
   hearts, like lodgepoles showing

battle scars, & remnants of rot
now dried and wood again

now wood again
enough to burn

   down the road
   the fire costs $2.50
   for a bundle
   of yew

all will
be ashes
soon

you don't really swap you just pay

“Once an ice shelf is removed, this ice flow may speed up, which then increases the loss of grounded ice, causing the sea level rise.”

paul was my lodestar
until the muggy winter
when the embers caught fire again
and our apartment burned to the ground

"it's not a joke
the other day for example, our winner
was the Samsung Sweatbeaver, which,
despite it's name, is a real
agile and cool mega-drive"

all the pixels in the world
cannot hold me -- all the pixies in imagined scenes
wearing frocks or no, gilling cod or full of woe
is a girl from out of the scenery, coming in,
having attracted the light,
is now retreating,
i should have talked to her
last night, the girl, decisions
like blankets cover you,
and you sleep -- or rising, furious, febrile
you swing machines like swords and
break the binds the hold you,
insane as Llullaillaco microbes.

"would it be helpful if you always limit
the maximums" "what our high score was"
"double the category average" "oh yeah"

these are remarks i overhear that no doubt
make sense to these people, who are clearly
not insane. but i cannot help thinking their
exchanges are, while the dark breathing heart
of the matter is not discussed.

do not ask me about busses or plans or transportation
i have started wildfires that destroyed entire schools
of thought, while observing the sabbath, and boiling
children's blood in my leaden saucepan
which i stole from the clutches of a shackled geisha

Brief impartation of knowledge

What do I know about the Civil War? General Custer rode in on a horse, and defeated Col. Robert E. Lee at Little Big Horn. I believe the horse's name was Barbaro. The South won the battle, but not the war.

Catholicism: Confession is where people go into a room and privately tell the pope about how much they hate the jews. Something something pews.

General Maltese

Humdrum
"Humbug" she thought, "Bah" said the sheep
"Why so glum?" Mutton, yum.
lamb jelly in my tummy belly
sunny hey hey hey
hey hey hey hey
fifty times like shades of gray
filthy lines, shit is cray to z
alphabet, pray for me
be catholic, act like it
cross yourself but don't cross me
middle name Revenge
first name Terror
last name Stephens

General Malaise

Today is my 27th birthday.

What the fuck.

I suppose I feel okay (do I?) about where I am in life, starting a new law job next week, liking Atlanta and living near my family and some good friends. So why am I so freaked out? I go to great lengths to avoid stress and stressful situations, but they have been following me around recently. With work, girls, and even regular social commitments. I still don't feel remotely grown up, but I remember ten years ago when I heard someone say they were older than 25 ("you're twenty-seven???") I just assumed they had stuff figured out. You know, I just figured people in their mid-late twenties are, well, adults.

I don't have a girlfriend, or any current prospects that especially intrigue me. Sure, I've always been too picky, and my confidence comes and goes, but that was always okay because I was so young. 27 - not so young any more. The truth is I'm actually not ready to settle down and even live with a girl, let alone get married, or *gasp* have kids, but within a few years I actually think I will be. And now that I am starting a 9-6 job and commuting 35 minutes each way, I question how many opportunities I will have to meet new women. I also question whether I will ever meet a girl in Atlanta that really floats my boat. Dating is a little bit fun but also depressing -I want a girl who provides excitement and a little mystery - recently I've been seeing girls who are pretty transparently just looking for any guy who can provide stability. This alarms and saddens me. One thing I've realized is that I definitely enjoy dating younger girls - 22, 23. Old enough to be mature and kind of know what to look for, but young enough not to be jaded or panicky about finding love.

I feel a little bit lame for staying in on my birthday, especially since it's a Friday night. If anyone really pressured me to go out, I would. But all day I have been feeling a total lack of energy and general malaise. I always question my "traditions" on days like my birthday and New Years - am I really starting my 27th year on Earth off by smoking bongs by myself and watching sitcoms? Yes, I am. I have been smoking more pot than usual recently, as some sort of comfort mechanism - it makes things feel a little less real. But shit is getting real, whether I like it or not. I am grateful and lucky to have the support of wonderful friends and family both nearby and afar. This doesn't change the fact that getting old sucks. I feel an urgent need to build more memories over the next couple of years, and do my best to record them so I can remember them when I am actually old. This has neither been absurd or funny, sorry. Just some generic-as-fuck thoughts about being one year older and none the wiser.

Outlooking

summer sunlit rainy daze
sand and
mud
running through wet grass
remembering the past
relishing the present and the future

Eating good food
Meeting good folks

Care about them
share goods, and vibrations,
drugs and libations

This is intrigue
this is life

value the invaluable
experiences

Experiment

everything for sale

we're all just fishing kittens
more is required
josh is typing
flickering galoshes over puddles
on asphalt drip money girls
sweat honey men grab shovels
the young open sodas the homeless
are hovels, begging coins
and sentences, the streets are
poor, the streets are rich, the people
are color, the windows are
reflections, the goods
are for sale

CHANDELIERS INSIDE THE PYRAMIDS

Tuesday nite at the Moon Til Rise. The man 

plays sax in his boxer briefs, perhaps some

sort of undershirt, "rollicking"

is rolling and licking or rocking

and licking or rocking and rollicking.

How will you spend your first day

of freedom? Love had to happen

somewhere first once; the first love

of the world. New shirts. Just being ready,

owning it. There are still komodo dragons

on this earth. Realistic demagogue of no

actual conscience. Juicing the rabbit

was never one of your better ideas.

Things were buried, Capsules! Place 

is an activity too. Choo choo choose

the Cleopatra in you.  

Be all that you can

believe. There's a thief 

in you. Some smiles

are intentional. 

Tyson Chandelier is a maverick. For President. Forever.

Realistic dialogue of no consequence

Guy: What's up with you? 

Girl (insouciant lips, suddenly aware of her pert breast and at once setting them aside): Nothing, I'm just leaving the office, heading to the gym.

Guy (in low volume praise): Look at you! 

Girl: Yeah I was out at this thing last night, because it was my birthday yesterday…

Guy (conversational handshake): Oh, happy Birthday!