I don't get you
she said, livid
with a crayon in her grasp
and an army of mercurial guttersnipes
slashing like land-coves at the bay.
how has it been, imaginary?
i complained, aloud, to the gruff man
eyeing me like starburst by the bay.
listen, crawdaddies, i said,
these aren't your parts. we have
claimed them.
19 June 2010
back then
porch by the wetslide grasses,
she purrs, a nude princess
in need of linens or, at least,
some grasses or rush with which
to fashion some clothing.
this came to me in a dream
the night after a barber stole my wife
years later
when i finally realized
we were just kids
back then.
she purrs, a nude princess
in need of linens or, at least,
some grasses or rush with which
to fashion some clothing.
this came to me in a dream
the night after a barber stole my wife
years later
when i finally realized
we were just kids
back then.
detailed notes on psychic interaction between two consenting adults at the civic center
Is this good or bad? I have a newsie
hovering around the building asking me stupid questions like
do i want to live? would i rather stay in the boardroom? how many people have never pooped? is this possible? where are my shoes?
I don't, I answer. And, yes, probably, how dare you ask that question, no, on your feet.
hovering around the building asking me stupid questions like
do i want to live? would i rather stay in the boardroom? how many people have never pooped? is this possible? where are my shoes?
I don't, I answer. And, yes, probably, how dare you ask that question, no, on your feet.
From Jungle to Businesswoman Shakedown
On the peninsula is where I got the degree. In the vegetative, dank, smelly jungle is where I was born. I come from deep dark earth like shit and I make it to the mainland and I take a job at a smelly laundry store and I work work work the peninsular, mainland way of life. This how I live, okay. So you come here to discuss some business. What can I do to you that you cannot do to me? Easy, give me a blowjob. No, seriously. Right now. Do it.
14 June 2010
Insane Tommy
be-wed were the eyes of Mary Todd
be-wed were her pearly gates
be-wed on Wednesday and tell Tommy kimbo;
tell Tommy his Mommy is tall.
Oh, tell Tommy his Mommy is tall.
Tell Mommy his Tommy is tall.
Tell Mommy on Tommy;
Tell Tommy on Mommy;
Embroider his name in your quilt.
be-wed were her pearly gates
be-wed on Wednesday and tell Tommy kimbo;
tell Tommy his Mommy is tall.
Oh, tell Tommy his Mommy is tall.
Tell Mommy his Tommy is tall.
Tell Mommy on Tommy;
Tell Tommy on Mommy;
Embroider his name in your quilt.
Quotes on the Bloody Danube
"There is a vision greater than my own
(an eye in no way limited like mine)
which puts me in my place."
--Augustus Finch IV, Esq.
"Sparrows have attacked.
Bring the reinforcements."
--Crow
"Specimens. I need Specimens, dammit!
Gregg--get back here with those specimens,
you little fairy! Specimens, Jim, get him!
Get the specimen fairy boy!"
--Steven Crabe
(an eye in no way limited like mine)
which puts me in my place."
--Augustus Finch IV, Esq.
"Sparrows have attacked.
Bring the reinforcements."
--Crow
"Specimens. I need Specimens, dammit!
Gregg--get back here with those specimens,
you little fairy! Specimens, Jim, get him!
Get the specimen fairy boy!"
--Steven Crabe
03 June 2010
Garlic notes
1. In the cavern of the blog,
things looked untidy.
2. I've skewered shrimp
with less peppers than that, Jesus.
3. The brooding "big cat" biologist thought
How many leopard prints
have my jubilant masters unearthed?
4. Sometimes my dad gets mad at me
for writing bizarre rusticons like this
here -- just look at me, making up
a word again -- Rusty cones, dogs,
wherein the witching is welled
cold hard dark un
5.
man
holding
a lantern
(already won)
Withholding a
pattern (since begun)!
6.
The piece emerges:
Am I Alive?
things looked untidy.
2. I've skewered shrimp
with less peppers than that, Jesus.
3. The brooding "big cat" biologist thought
How many leopard prints
have my jubilant masters unearthed?
4. Sometimes my dad gets mad at me
for writing bizarre rusticons like this
here -- just look at me, making up
a word again -- Rusty cones, dogs,
wherein the witching is welled
cold hard dark un
5.
man
holding
a lantern
(already won)
Withholding a
pattern (since begun)!
6.
The piece emerges:
Am I Alive?
28 May 2010
Angles in the Arctic (Pilot)
"It's always Christmastime in these parts, Johnny," said the old man, who had the skittishness of a ruminant nursing young.
"Which way's East?" I asked.
"Depends on who's asking, in'-it?"
"Beg pardon, old man?" Hiss in my voice.
"It's that way," he said, gesturing.
That was the problem with these washed out North Pole exurbs, I thought. All the ex-elf foreman were bitter, brittle, but they had no heart when you really got down to it. Sure, they'd go through the motions like they wanted to fight, to show their smiling starving beautiful children of light that their daddy was worth something, worth a helluva lot come to think, and no way, NO WAY was ol' Daddy going to put up with any old traveler such as myself asking him for directions. Hence the yuletide prodding from the get-go. Yes, I'd bested the geezer. But why leave it there? I pulled out my Luger and shot him in the dick.
"Which way's East?" I asked.
"Depends on who's asking, in'-it?"
"Beg pardon, old man?" Hiss in my voice.
"It's that way," he said, gesturing.
That was the problem with these washed out North Pole exurbs, I thought. All the ex-elf foreman were bitter, brittle, but they had no heart when you really got down to it. Sure, they'd go through the motions like they wanted to fight, to show their smiling starving beautiful children of light that their daddy was worth something, worth a helluva lot come to think, and no way, NO WAY was ol' Daddy going to put up with any old traveler such as myself asking him for directions. Hence the yuletide prodding from the get-go. Yes, I'd bested the geezer. But why leave it there? I pulled out my Luger and shot him in the dick.
All Aboard To Piperburg
Aye, said the cloying pirate
who smelled like cinders or
christmas mints.
Cylinder.
Cylinder.
Cold-tab.
There are our favorite flavors.
(Sand-Snipe!)
(Imagined nutmeg!)
Sand-towel.
Head-garb.
Aliza with a bright shawl
Midnight Rose in the garden
brandishing a duckhammer
and swearing in Polish
Snitches running the alleys
these days with pipers and
strollers and boobs
spilling out their pockets.
Christmas.
who smelled like cinders or
christmas mints.
Cylinder.
Cylinder.
Cold-tab.
There are our favorite flavors.
(Sand-Snipe!)
(Imagined nutmeg!)
Sand-towel.
Head-garb.
Aliza with a bright shawl
Midnight Rose in the garden
brandishing a duckhammer
and swearing in Polish
Snitches running the alleys
these days with pipers and
strollers and boobs
spilling out their pockets.
Christmas.
Bermy Foss o' Duckwood Green
bermy foss o'er duckwood green
original pancake houses
you & my original twin
ate lettuce in the garden.
a tin box of convents at noon.
this is how i explained myself
to the doorman.
he didn’t like this one bit.
<>
I am one day
going to lead
our band to stardom.
Passes in the wind
some scent of freedom:
a dead skunk.
First pipe of the mission Ordinary,
because less common now,
diversify your entry,
and waylay your tomorrows.
Welcome, to Piperburg.
original pancake houses
you & my original twin
ate lettuce in the garden.
a tin box of convents at noon.
this is how i explained myself
to the doorman.
he didn’t like this one bit.
<>
I am one day
going to lead
our band to stardom.
Passes in the wind
some scent of freedom:
a dead skunk.
First pipe of the mission Ordinary,
because less common now,
diversify your entry,
and waylay your tomorrows.
Welcome, to Piperburg.
22 May 2010
Snowshells are better than no shells
Shel Snowverstein
on the beach
scouring for cowries
Snowsock on his toes
"suck my Snow Cock, bros"
it takes a keen eye, and a keen eye.
what's left is right, get into it
you can't spell intuition without it
"it" is in tuition, too: two issuances
The market for seashells is virtually nonexistent (emphasis added)
but there's seashells galore, a neverending free supply
as mollusks are left for dead, among the floating plankton
hermit crabs are fickle - the nomads of the sea
I search for the Evershell
the Purple Conch
Seashellbiscuit
Mishell Obama
Snailmobile 5000
The one thing I know is
I'll never snowshell again.
At least not on shrooms
on the beach
scouring for cowries
Snowsock on his toes
"suck my Snow Cock, bros"
it takes a keen eye, and a keen eye.
what's left is right, get into it
you can't spell intuition without it
"it" is in tuition, too: two issuances
The market for seashells is virtually nonexistent (emphasis added)
but there's seashells galore, a neverending free supply
as mollusks are left for dead, among the floating plankton
hermit crabs are fickle - the nomads of the sea
I search for the Evershell
the Purple Conch
Seashellbiscuit
Mishell Obama
Snailmobile 5000
The one thing I know is
I'll never snowshell again.
At least not on shrooms
Incantation (Adagio)
Never the tomorrow snowshell,
Never the tomorrow snowshell,
Never the tomorrow snowshell.
To-Never, ...
To-Morrow...
... (To-No-Shell.)
Never the tomorrow snowshell,
Never the tomorrow snowshell.
To-Never, ...
To-Morrow...
... (To-No-Shell.)
19 May 2010
Exhibition A
I hope you realize
every exhibition you have missed.
Amy at the frieze, Amy
between the thumbs of the statue
David. It had been -- it was --
more than enough to say: drab.
Thanks us slowly. That's what
she said, any way. Her hand
was on the table, her mind was
on the radio, her dress was
nice-it-was-white
; WHOMEVER GOES HERE,
BEWARE!!! ; said her eyes
when she wasn't thinking about
what she looked like.
This was often. If I say
I cried on the doorstop, will you
free me? Is that what honesty
costs these days?
javascript:void(0)
every exhibition you have missed.
Amy at the frieze, Amy
between the thumbs of the statue
David. It had been -- it was --
more than enough to say: drab.
Thanks us slowly. That's what
she said, any way. Her hand
was on the table, her mind was
on the radio, her dress was
nice-it-was-white
; WHOMEVER GOES HERE,
BEWARE!!! ; said her eyes
when she wasn't thinking about
what she looked like.
This was often. If I say
I cried on the doorstop, will you
free me? Is that what honesty
costs these days?
javascript:void(0)
18 May 2010
Blind spiderweb
The spider's web
is blind.
Was blind, had been culled,
just before the dawn
or after the skipper sunk.
Beneath the gunk at the bottom
of the harbor. Oil &
/ or
s o i l e r o s i o n.
Problems mounting becoming one:
---the need to change our ways---
An often eluding urgency. Felt
but not committed. Recycled but
not co-mingled. Intermittent
is only constant
on the constant fading white of noise.
That's an intelligence term. Like
the box in all our houses:
television. Transport your vision
not to the fake future, the wrangled
misunderstood past (there is no other
way), or to the present world being
filmed: IT IS NOT YOURS.
Make it. Make it / love us / take it
at your own leisure. There is no time;
there is little time.
As they say, the spider web is ulimately
blind. Said differently: every man has
limitations. Spiders hunt closer
the truth. Even then it's a battle
and no small one: death,
(then a breath) ... life.
is blind.
Was blind, had been culled,
just before the dawn
or after the skipper sunk.
Beneath the gunk at the bottom
of the harbor. Oil &
/ or
s o i l e r o s i o n.
Problems mounting becoming one:
---the need to change our ways---
An often eluding urgency. Felt
but not committed. Recycled but
not co-mingled. Intermittent
is only constant
on the constant fading white of noise.
That's an intelligence term. Like
the box in all our houses:
television. Transport your vision
not to the fake future, the wrangled
misunderstood past (there is no other
way), or to the present world being
filmed: IT IS NOT YOURS.
Make it. Make it / love us / take it
at your own leisure. There is no time;
there is little time.
As they say, the spider web is ulimately
blind. Said differently: every man has
limitations. Spiders hunt closer
the truth. Even then it's a battle
and no small one: death,
(then a breath) ... life.
13 May 2010
Excellent Beginnings
Burn down the bowling alley until nothing's left.
Except a scar of black question marks on the hillside.
That's right, I looked toward the Drink-&-Bowl (or
so I named it) every time I drove past. Northbound
Indiana state highway 41. Those were
in the days when I would regularly smoke marijuana
on forays through the Hoosier state.
Some fields, a picnic there. Grass, clouds,
boys, mainly not, barns, just space.
Space and more space. Grist. Earth. Trees
and threaded fencerows. Burn the braying
shapes of ancestors with the county building.
Take the universities while you're at it. The places
of knowledge. Dredge the rivers. Disrupt the hydrology.
Call it a case of
excellent beginnings.
Except a scar of black question marks on the hillside.
That's right, I looked toward the Drink-&-Bowl (or
so I named it) every time I drove past. Northbound
Indiana state highway 41. Those were
in the days when I would regularly smoke marijuana
on forays through the Hoosier state.
Some fields, a picnic there. Grass, clouds,
boys, mainly not, barns, just space.
Space and more space. Grist. Earth. Trees
and threaded fencerows. Burn the braying
shapes of ancestors with the county building.
Take the universities while you're at it. The places
of knowledge. Dredge the rivers. Disrupt the hydrology.
Call it a case of
excellent beginnings.
12 May 2010
loaded mountain man
burn the buried building while we can
decline to erect stadiums in old quarries
think of the lumberjacks shining, swimming.
they had banquets then with real mountainmen
wild boys of the land trading funky specimens
of beaver pelts, axes, grindcorn, mexican
medicinal rubs, gunpowder
and the one they call wilt-a-weed.
that one made you curl up in the sun
like a kitty-kat.
in any case they had no beverage sponsor.
there were sherlock wizards counting their purchases
spying on them through magic boxes in the televisions,
computers, smart phones, lecticorns, spy-boxes,
federally mandated spy-cells and mini cams
they put in all those pills
that we swallow.
decline to erect stadiums in old quarries
think of the lumberjacks shining, swimming.
they had banquets then with real mountainmen
wild boys of the land trading funky specimens
of beaver pelts, axes, grindcorn, mexican
medicinal rubs, gunpowder
and the one they call wilt-a-weed.
that one made you curl up in the sun
like a kitty-kat.
in any case they had no beverage sponsor.
there were sherlock wizards counting their purchases
spying on them through magic boxes in the televisions,
computers, smart phones, lecticorns, spy-boxes,
federally mandated spy-cells and mini cams
they put in all those pills
that we swallow.
Dog Fists
Even the Dog Fists were half-alien
at some time. But like all good
tribesman, they became spirits
at the broom of dusk
but
what have we here a cock-a-roach,
a cocca-doodle-doo, some shithead
research laboratorist stashing lobotomies
on sideway mirrors lecturing through the
unicorn lenses of ever-sideways tomorrows
at some time. But like all good
tribesman, they became spirits
at the broom of dusk
but
what have we here a cock-a-roach,
a cocca-doodle-doo, some shithead
research laboratorist stashing lobotomies
on sideway mirrors lecturing through the
unicorn lenses of ever-sideways tomorrows
11 May 2010
I'm giving you a compliment
no exceptance, no expectance.
Accept it.
April rains bring May grass
The bloomers are flowing
lowering
blowing
We're gonna go bowling
eat banana splits
listen to a record
We're gonna fucking bowl
We're gonna get there soon, son
we're gonna burn it down
Douse it - that's it boy. More fire. Gasoline.
"Arson" is a gerund.
Burn the bowling alley til it's gone.
Accept it.
April rains bring May grass
The bloomers are flowing
lowering
blowing
We're gonna go bowling
eat banana splits
listen to a record
We're gonna fucking bowl
We're gonna get there soon, son
we're gonna burn it down
Douse it - that's it boy. More fire. Gasoline.
"Arson" is a gerund.
Burn the bowling alley til it's gone.
10 May 2010
rocks, glass
i am everything (i have)
ever made. we are more than
their rocks and glass. we are
our own kind of support. we
are water after all, water
(shining through) the fish glass,
or the glass fish. the eel-grass
as it was in May, for example.
how the crane tiptoes through
the swamp, after all. doesn’t it
feel great to be alive? doesn’t it
just fit, right in there, when you
burn down every place you have
ever been?
ever made. we are more than
their rocks and glass. we are
our own kind of support. we
are water after all, water
(shining through) the fish glass,
or the glass fish. the eel-grass
as it was in May, for example.
how the crane tiptoes through
the swamp, after all. doesn’t it
feel great to be alive? doesn’t it
just fit, right in there, when you
burn down every place you have
ever been?
07 May 2010
Illegal Blog Moment
BLOG BLOG BLOG BLOG BLOG BLOG BLOG BLOG BLOG BLOG
BLOG BLOG BLOG BLOG BLOG BLOG BLOG BLOG BLOG BLOG
BLOG BLOG BLOG BLOG BLOG BLOG BLOG BLOG BLOG BLOG
BLOG BLOG BLOG BLOG BLOG BLOG BLOG BLOG BLOG BLOG
BLOG BLOG BLOG BLOG BLOG BLOG BLOG BLOG BLOG BLOG
BLOG BLOG BLOG BLOG BLOG BLOG BLOG BLOG BLOG BLOG
BLOG BLOG BLOG BLOG BLOG BLOG BLOG BLOG BLOG BLOG
BLOG BLOG BLOG BLOG BLOG BLOG BLOG BLOG BLOG BLOG
BLOG BLOG BLOG BLOG BLOG BLOG BLOG BLOG BLOG BLOG
The Tattletale's Postcard
I got this postcard from an old friend who had been going through some troubles with addiction.
“Stumbling upon
a choir of work-a-day nuns shoveling coal
was watching lethargy
burn in effigy.
Effortlessly,
Eric.”
I wish I knew what he meant.
“Stumbling upon
a choir of work-a-day nuns shoveling coal
was watching lethargy
burn in effigy.
Effortlessly,
Eric.”
I wish I knew what he meant.
05 May 2010
A Terrible Thing To Overhear
[LOUD GASP]
DONNIE DARKIE: SOMEBODY TESTED MY SPACESHIP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
DONNIE DONNIE: Not your SPACESHIP???????
DONNIE DARKIE: YES, YOU IDIOT, MY SPACESHIP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
DONNIE DARKIE: SOMEBODY TESTED MY SPACESHIP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
DONNIE DONNIE: Not your SPACESHIP???????
DONNIE DARKIE: YES, YOU IDIOT, MY SPACESHIP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The Poison Promise
poison make you happy
heppy and ssssssad.
Verrrry heppppy end veryyyyyyyy ssssssssad.
No pueblo, senioritas, I said,
biting into a cordita. Thing is,
it was a sandwiche.
::::::BITE SPONGE::::::::
The wheels at midnight turn
on every capered owl, hour
turn the sly snow glass sly
turn the bye-bye jug of Noke away.
heppy and ssssssad.
Verrrry heppppy end veryyyyyyyy ssssssssad.
No pueblo, senioritas, I said,
biting into a cordita. Thing is,
it was a sandwiche.
::::::BITE SPONGE::::::::
The wheels at midnight turn
on every capered owl, hour
turn the sly snow glass sly
turn the bye-bye jug of Noke away.
04 May 2010
Snay bye' Numero Dos
Sssssssnay-bye' make you say bye bye
she say
ssssnay bye' make you feel guuuuhd
poison make you happy,
happy and ssssssad
Goodbye snakebite
good day spider
spinster god
original splinter
my eyes are clouds
SODA, red rum
el capitain morgan
private stock
such a backwards label
MURDER, a dos
Es espanol for murder of two
somebody get snay-bye tonight
someone get snay-bye reeeal guuuhd
somebody gonna get dead
bit in the neck tonight
she say
ssssnay bye' make you feel guuuuhd
poison make you happy,
happy and ssssssad
Goodbye snakebite
good day spider
spinster god
original splinter
my eyes are clouds
SODA, red rum
el capitain morgan
private stock
such a backwards label
MURDER, a dos
Es espanol for murder of two
somebody get snay-bye tonight
someone get snay-bye reeeal guuuhd
somebody gonna get dead
bit in the neck tonight
25 April 2010
Snay bye etc
Sna’ bi hurt, he said, lisping an insane voice into the jungle darkness.
(Pronounced Snay-Bye).
Sna’ bye make you say guuhd-bye, she said again, sinister as the snake she was
rapidly becoming.
Lessons of nature: there is no sin in abundance. Just ask the trees and rivers and frogs.
The softly murmuring shepherd to his neighbor to join
in some humble ceremony.
24 April 2010
20 April 2010
Dessert Shore
1. Time for tea at the airport
If I haven’t fully growled
(may hap I haven’t growed up)
it’s because I’m an animus
an omnibus of Beth’s truck
d r i v i n g i n t h e d i s t a n c e
…scattered lines of light…
2. My stances
My stances may not be pretty, Amy,
but they sure are great. They have never been greater. I think about them like little sisters and clothing and chocolates. My problem at this very moment is that I don’t have enough to write about, and it’s really a problem.
3. Okay
Possible feelings:
--the man has got me
--the man does not
--I am free now
--I always will be
(freedom, as a tree frog)
--I am my own dog
--God is my savior.
Certainly, though:
Love never fails.
4. Love never fails;
else the sidebar.
the intractable highcar
phrased over thattaway
from the frames by the grain caveway
(((…don’t go cave away,
cave-way…)))
on me like Ponzi
schemes … I mean … to dream
faster that masseuses massage my large
knuckled bulges of triceps
is to really begin to gleam.
5. Shhh, Massachusetts
Or then Massachusetts looms large like broom sets
put out for passage at the loyal, Polish bell.
(They sell these things like telephones!
… tell-a-phone; …telly-fones… )
6. So
When I hear fire I break skates to the wind,
so their skate pieces may whirl;
7. Prints
my how my presence leaves clues that
i was here! ? ! (They’re just finger pads!)
becoming whorls on specimen 100420 A
I’m down the hall, #B, in the morgue:
a man with a specimen (((a man w/ a lantern)))
illumining my fingertip ridges:
behold no whorls but thumbs with double-doops
and all loops ulnar save one
which is indeed radial.
I know this because as Boy Scouts
we studied fingerprints & heard
from a police detective. He was an
articulate man. That was before I
became an Eagle…
((( we studied comic books
in grade school; said the man
who sold elementary dross)))
8. You will
find me
underneath a tree
besides a rug / a drug / a bear
or left laying stolidly in the silver lining
like something coming out of the woods and combining
with another shape like ramrod
geez, my stakes are large now,
I can’t let them talk me out of what
I deeply wanted.
9. Lizard
I want a lizard for Christmas
or somebody’s habit to plead for ankles;
in the old West, the staircase banisters
weren’t see-through (for reasons of
chasteness). They were
shored up. And yet so far
--in the dessert--
from the coast.
If I haven’t fully growled
(may hap I haven’t growed up)
it’s because I’m an animus
an omnibus of Beth’s truck
d r i v i n g i n t h e d i s t a n c e
…scattered lines of light…
2. My stances
My stances may not be pretty, Amy,
but they sure are great. They have never been greater. I think about them like little sisters and clothing and chocolates. My problem at this very moment is that I don’t have enough to write about, and it’s really a problem.
3. Okay
Possible feelings:
--the man has got me
--the man does not
--I am free now
--I always will be
(freedom, as a tree frog)
--I am my own dog
--God is my savior.
Certainly, though:
Love never fails.
4. Love never fails;
else the sidebar.
the intractable highcar
phrased over thattaway
from the frames by the grain caveway
(((…don’t go cave away,
cave-way…)))
on me like Ponzi
schemes … I mean … to dream
faster that masseuses massage my large
knuckled bulges of triceps
is to really begin to gleam.
5. Shhh, Massachusetts
Or then Massachusetts looms large like broom sets
put out for passage at the loyal, Polish bell.
(They sell these things like telephones!
… tell-a-phone; …telly-fones… )
6. So
When I hear fire I break skates to the wind,
so their skate pieces may whirl;
7. Prints
my how my presence leaves clues that
i was here! ? ! (They’re just finger pads!)
becoming whorls on specimen 100420 A
I’m down the hall, #B, in the morgue:
a man with a specimen (((a man w/ a lantern)))
illumining my fingertip ridges:
behold no whorls but thumbs with double-doops
and all loops ulnar save one
which is indeed radial.
I know this because as Boy Scouts
we studied fingerprints & heard
from a police detective. He was an
articulate man. That was before I
became an Eagle…
((( we studied comic books
in grade school; said the man
who sold elementary dross)))
8. You will
find me
underneath a tree
besides a rug / a drug / a bear
or left laying stolidly in the silver lining
like something coming out of the woods and combining
with another shape like ramrod
geez, my stakes are large now,
I can’t let them talk me out of what
I deeply wanted.
9. Lizard
I want a lizard for Christmas
or somebody’s habit to plead for ankles;
in the old West, the staircase banisters
weren’t see-through (for reasons of
chasteness). They were
shored up. And yet so far
--in the dessert--
from the coast.
Failed firebombing
I went into the bank with the package. Determined to show these bastards who was in the wrong for once. Woman waiting in front of me in line. Gray hair. What is that I detect? She smells. Foul like New York City garbage or an arrest warrant stored up some cop's ass. Dunno why he'd do that. Goddam cops.
Focus: firebomb the Kinkos--Bank, I mean. Blow this bank all to heck. I'm gonna do it. Oh Brother!
Next thing: talk to attendant. Damn she's a hot young piece of ass. Guess I'll withdraw some money and go to Kinkos. NO! It must be done here. I'm sweating. Don't know what to say. This girl is milking me with her eyes, her sweet slutty sultry slutty eyes. She wants it. Right here. Right now.
I take down my pants and shortly get tackled by a dirty security guard who smells of aftershave. Never did get to detonate the blast. Guess I'm going to prison.
Focus: firebomb the Kinkos--Bank, I mean. Blow this bank all to heck. I'm gonna do it. Oh Brother!
Next thing: talk to attendant. Damn she's a hot young piece of ass. Guess I'll withdraw some money and go to Kinkos. NO! It must be done here. I'm sweating. Don't know what to say. This girl is milking me with her eyes, her sweet slutty sultry slutty eyes. She wants it. Right here. Right now.
I take down my pants and shortly get tackled by a dirty security guard who smells of aftershave. Never did get to detonate the blast. Guess I'm going to prison.
19 April 2010
Final Draft
I'm sitting here on my couch at 1:00 a.m. on Monday morning listening to Congratulations. And it's not because I just overdosed on Ambien and snakebite meds, though God knows it's a realistic scenario given my predilection for uppers and serpents. No, I tell you, it's because I am engrossed in newly listening to Congratulations, and I think we should all give it another chance. In other words, you've been punked: it's actually a mad chill album. Literally it’s cool and uncool at the same time. It’s the embodiment of strange opposites: dark, bright, serious, carnival-like in its absurdity… at once tawdry, at the next exquisite…
Yes, I've lost it, you'll say, but after a few listens, expecting to dismiss it (like I did Metric's "Fantasies," which is in NO WAY worth purchasing) it made its peace with me, and I couldn't help but return to enjoy and inspect it, bizarre and darkly jaunty though it may be. Ironic wino pothead donkeys rule the desert at one moment, while at the next a parade of pipework queers takes control of the nearby bellshop. Somewhere in the midst surfing and tantra are involved, but every rock stars have strange ascents.
Exhibit A:
"It's Working" -- This song is about ecstasy (http://74.125.95.132/search?
This was Rolling Stone's take:
'With Congratulations, the knowing smartasses of Oracular Spectacular seem confused about what's next. The result is a hazy, hit-and-miss album that will likely alienate some fans of the debut, but one that also testifies to MGMT's restlessness as songwriters and human beings. "It's Working," a song VanWyngarden describes as about the drug Ecstasy, mixes surf guitars, harpsichord glitter and bong patters with some less-than-ecstatic lyrics: "I see the signs of aging/But if I try to feel at all, I am deceived," VanWyngarden sings.'
A pretty good assessment, I think. Anyway, in this penultimate paragraph, I’d like to sum up my point: Congratulations is at least weird enough to listen to again in full (preferably when baked as ciabatta), IF NOT TO REVISIT COMPLETELY BEFORE PRAYING FOR BETTER JUDGMENT.
Thanks for your time and brave lifestyles.
Your Father,
Douglas
P.S. It feels like someone’s listening…
It feels like someone’s missing…
Yes, I've lost it, you'll say, but after a few listens, expecting to dismiss it (like I did Metric's "Fantasies," which is in NO WAY worth purchasing) it made its peace with me, and I couldn't help but return to enjoy and inspect it, bizarre and darkly jaunty though it may be. Ironic wino pothead donkeys rule the desert at one moment, while at the next a parade of pipework queers takes control of the nearby bellshop. Somewhere in the midst surfing and tantra are involved, but every rock stars have strange ascents.
Exhibit A:
"It's Working" -- This song is about ecstasy (http://74.125.95.132/search?
This was Rolling Stone's take:
'With Congratulations, the knowing smartasses of Oracular Spectacular seem confused about what's next. The result is a hazy, hit-and-miss album that will likely alienate some fans of the debut, but one that also testifies to MGMT's restlessness as songwriters and human beings. "It's Working," a song VanWyngarden describes as about the drug Ecstasy, mixes surf guitars, harpsichord glitter and bong patters with some less-than-ecstatic lyrics: "I see the signs of aging/But if I try to feel at all, I am deceived," VanWyngarden sings.'
A pretty good assessment, I think. Anyway, in this penultimate paragraph, I’d like to sum up my point: Congratulations is at least weird enough to listen to again in full (preferably when baked as ciabatta), IF NOT TO REVISIT COMPLETELY BEFORE PRAYING FOR BETTER JUDGMENT.
Thanks for your time and brave lifestyles.
Your Father,
Douglas
P.S. It feels like someone’s listening…
It feels like someone’s missing…
First Draft of E-Mail
RE: NEW MGMT ALBUM(EN) [_yolk_] ;
Slogged-out as rebellion, or the choice of eating sturgeon for dinner, I'm sitting here on my couch at 1:00 a.m. on Monday morning listening to clips and phrases like "electric juicer lining" and "ice cream hose to kiss" emanating from Congratulations. I'm not going to be pretentious enough to stilt this into a "real" music review. But I do it from that spirit when I say that perhaps MGMT has "punked" as all here with this one. I think it's pretty chill.
Well, I'd like to write more, but I'm gonna take some ecstasy and set off on my moped now, listening of course to "It's Working" (which is, of course, about MDMA)
From the article:
"With Congratulations, the knowing smartasses of Oracular Spectacular seem confused about what's next. The result is a hazy, hit-and-miss album that will likely alienate some fans of the debut, but one that also testifies to MGMT's restlessness as songwriters and human beings. "It's Working," a song VanWyngarden describes as about the drug Ecstasy, mixes surf guitars, harpsichord glitter and bong patters with some less-than-ecstatic lyrics: "I see the signs of aging/But if I try to feel at all, I am deceived," VanWyngarden sings."
Well, eat a dick, guys! Congratulations rules! Mad chill!
Slogged-out as rebellion, or the choice of eating sturgeon for dinner, I'm sitting here on my couch at 1:00 a.m. on Monday morning listening to clips and phrases like "electric juicer lining" and "ice cream hose to kiss" emanating from Congratulations. I'm not going to be pretentious enough to stilt this into a "real" music review. But I do it from that spirit when I say that perhaps MGMT has "punked" as all here with this one. I think it's pretty chill.
Well, I'd like to write more, but I'm gonna take some ecstasy and set off on my moped now, listening of course to "It's Working" (which is, of course, about MDMA)
From the article:
"With Congratulations, the knowing smartasses of Oracular Spectacular seem confused about what's next. The result is a hazy, hit-and-miss album that will likely alienate some fans of the debut, but one that also testifies to MGMT's restlessness as songwriters and human beings. "It's Working," a song VanWyngarden describes as about the drug Ecstasy, mixes surf guitars, harpsichord glitter and bong patters with some less-than-ecstatic lyrics: "I see the signs of aging/But if I try to feel at all, I am deceived," VanWyngarden sings."
Well, eat a dick, guys! Congratulations rules! Mad chill!
18 April 2010
Fluent in Finland
I'm FLUBAR
the Finnisher
the Pirate Jew.
Coinbox Anonymous - go to
Shifty Guys Bank (SGB)
101 N. Soandso Avenue.
Meet you on the street
I'll be wearing gold basketball shorts
You'll be all out of sorts
when I rob you,
of course. but don't worry.
at some point we'll discourse
in morse codes
The lost episodes: myriad explosions
imperial foreclosures on erosion
coastal waves of emotion
Is the type of thing I will write you
in morse code, so if you get it all
that's amazing. Well done.
But this doesn't really tell you much.
Which, granted, is by design.
Alright. Talk to you later
the Finnisher
the Pirate Jew.
Coinbox Anonymous - go to
Shifty Guys Bank (SGB)
101 N. Soandso Avenue.
Meet you on the street
I'll be wearing gold basketball shorts
You'll be all out of sorts
when I rob you,
of course. but don't worry.
at some point we'll discourse
in morse codes
The lost episodes: myriad explosions
imperial foreclosures on erosion
coastal waves of emotion
Is the type of thing I will write you
in morse code, so if you get it all
that's amazing. Well done.
But this doesn't really tell you much.
Which, granted, is by design.
Alright. Talk to you later
17 April 2010
definitely having nothing to do with influenza
1.
today i'm a buzzpost
a lecticorn of unicorns
like a bus puppet i'm reminded
of public transportation willy nilly
ode
2.
today i'm getting on a boat
and canoeing down a river
my canoe is my prancer
my shoes are in the water.
if they weren't, how would i haunt her?
of all the motion flowing / fluid / growing
i haven't looked at the camera in years
i am usually more polished
3.
cognitive shoe
walking ground toward
the thought: here i make
a decision, and stick to it.
like a flu letting gas through.
4.
magic
today i'm a buzzpost
a lecticorn of unicorns
like a bus puppet i'm reminded
of public transportation willy nilly
ode
2.
today i'm getting on a boat
and canoeing down a river
my canoe is my prancer
my shoes are in the water.
if they weren't, how would i haunt her?
of all the motion flowing / fluid / growing
i haven't looked at the camera in years
i am usually more polished
3.
cognitive shoe
walking ground toward
the thought: here i make
a decision, and stick to it.
like a flu letting gas through.
4.
magic
15 April 2010
lather
it's unclear to me
how anybody
can anymore take themselves seriously ;
it takes
joy ;
the joy comes with mourning
deep rich mourning like the lather
of aftershave--I spread it prayerfully
on my face, maybe even dollop
some old spry cologne on my nape
if only for the mention or touch of that part
...wholly for some purpose... ;
woodwinds on the winds now
(( ...birdsong!... ))
too warm for the chaparral
or the Cleveland streets about which
I'm hung up on ;
dry worked-up chorus girls
stingy, stringy; working for hours
each morning before toil ;
what i meant was
in the joy there is deep morning
steeped rich morning like immersion
i carefully enter it to expand my features
fighting back as a saint against the apocalypse
not of time ending but of people lying
sweltering stowaway ships
-- IN WHICH THIEVES HIDE --
lies, lies, lies down the river,
so common they become commonplace barges
nothing to see here:
we cannot imagine an empty present;
we cannot fathom a clear conscience.
((America thinks thus romantically
about the stowaways. Freed slaves,
maybe, or nautical airwave
pirates, sauntered and screwed into the hull
like the mouse sound of silence exigence
bleeding away in the water, frail
freed ink off the wainscot ways
of the church cotton.
We pray these ways after all. ))
how anybody
can anymore take themselves seriously ;
it takes
joy ;
the joy comes with mourning
deep rich mourning like the lather
of aftershave--I spread it prayerfully
on my face, maybe even dollop
some old spry cologne on my nape
if only for the mention or touch of that part
...wholly for some purpose... ;
woodwinds on the winds now
(( ...birdsong!... ))
too warm for the chaparral
or the Cleveland streets about which
I'm hung up on ;
dry worked-up chorus girls
stingy, stringy; working for hours
each morning before toil ;
what i meant was
in the joy there is deep morning
steeped rich morning like immersion
i carefully enter it to expand my features
fighting back as a saint against the apocalypse
not of time ending but of people lying
sweltering stowaway ships
-- IN WHICH THIEVES HIDE --
lies, lies, lies down the river,
so common they become commonplace barges
nothing to see here:
we cannot imagine an empty present;
we cannot fathom a clear conscience.
((America thinks thus romantically
about the stowaways. Freed slaves,
maybe, or nautical airwave
pirates, sauntered and screwed into the hull
like the mouse sound of silence exigence
bleeding away in the water, frail
freed ink off the wainscot ways
of the church cotton.
We pray these ways after all. ))
Don't Read This!
orchards
of purposes
are marching toward
a place where
hen's abound.
that's right hens,
we've all eaten chicken before.
of purposes
are marching toward
a place where
hen's abound.
that's right hens,
we've all eaten chicken before.
14 April 2010
Shining Time Station
feathers feathers
float like a bee
sting like the police
know what I mean
french hens
nosoberty: not drinking
// C3P0
P.O. Box 666
say ten, back again
the devil's in there
The dog's in there
I mean god
aren't there any American shepherds?
to herd the goats or whatever
Yeah, it's whatever, bro
Now is never bro
Name's Trevor, bro
Nice sweater, bro.
float like a bee
sting like the police
know what I mean
french hens
nosoberty: not drinking
// C3P0
P.O. Box 666
say ten, back again
the devil's in there
The dog's in there
I mean god
aren't there any American shepherds?
to herd the goats or whatever
Yeah, it's whatever, bro
Now is never bro
Name's Trevor, bro
Nice sweater, bro.
Nobody
Nobody hides
in plain sight
of all the world
vernacular
surely only present
in the mind; else,
we couldn’t see
for nobody, all around.
Nobody thus present
only in the mind
(her gifts he
did not take)
as when I say, “Nobody’s here!”
not noticing my hidden companion
(now a sea-captain fearing
the bane stowaway).
Nobody thus exists, persists,
revealing of himself:
ghost of the railroad past;
wolves a-prowl in the snowwhite
either side the careful tracks,
neither one nor several.
Leaving us with, at the very least,
an insane proxy for solitude, or,
more likely, a spirit of staunch longing
amongst us
each & every moment.
Nobody his own best friend
as god to dog to man
real because we made him
real, only really there
when truly he is not.
in plain sight
of all the world
vernacular
surely only present
in the mind; else,
we couldn’t see
for nobody, all around.
Nobody thus present
only in the mind
(her gifts he
did not take)
as when I say, “Nobody’s here!”
not noticing my hidden companion
(now a sea-captain fearing
the bane stowaway).
Nobody thus exists, persists,
revealing of himself:
ghost of the railroad past;
wolves a-prowl in the snowwhite
either side the careful tracks,
neither one nor several.
Leaving us with, at the very least,
an insane proxy for solitude, or,
more likely, a spirit of staunch longing
amongst us
each & every moment.
Nobody his own best friend
as god to dog to man
real because we made him
real, only really there
when truly he is not.
13 April 2010
Drake says to a girl
i can give it up on the first date
i don't have to exist outside this place
and you know that i can't change
but if stars should shine
the very first time
then dear it's fine, fine by me.
--from "Stars," by The xx
i don't have to exist outside this place
and you know that i can't change
but if stars should shine
the very first time
then dear it's fine, fine by me.
--from "Stars," by The xx
08 April 2010
Dèyè Mòn Gen Mòn (Beyond the Mountains, There are Mountains)
Baby we were born alive.
All the mountain ever wanted
stalls hardly beyond the climb.
Strike it like you know the difference
of plaintains; wherefore art
thou factory farms, where is thy
mechanical grass. Stay off the tracks.
The path has been beaten. Covering
a geyser with a fountain, it rains.
Creating the old again = creole. Creme
of some improbable Haiti, sugar-steeped
in brown-backed maiden-thieves.
The earth opens & it is filled
with nectar. Plasma and magma
ooey gooey, mallow in the fire.
07 April 2010
Green Beans Salad
MMMMMMMM. THATS WHAT I HAD FOR DINNER. I WANTED CREAMED CORN, BUT DIDN'T HAVE ANY. SO I MADE GREEN BEANS SAAAALLLLAAAAD. YUMMY!
For lunch, I had mexican food. tex-mex, really. The 3 Enchiladas lunch special, Santana playing in the background, got the $1.00 soup but never received it. The waiter, who was either surly or an antisocial moron, brought the check at long last and then asked me if we were Emory students. "Yes," I replied.
Waiter: "that explains a lot."
I snapped back: "What does that mean?"
Waiter: "Oh, nothing"
He disappears into his kitchen-lair, and I explain to my friends what just happened. All 6 of us were indignant to say the least. We started to figure out who owed what. I threw down ten bucks in the interest of speeding up the process. The waiter came back, looking either impatient or like a dull robot fuck who doesn't know how to correlate emotion and expression. I think it was the latter but you really can't tell sometimes.
"Do you need a pen to figure this out and write out the individual prices?"
At this point, I am furious. This food was nothing special, and despite having 10 people in the restaurant including us, this fucking joke of a waiter was trying to patronize us. Either that, or he was a martian weirdo from outer space, and doesn't know how to interact with humans.
"No, we go to Emory, bro" was my retort. My friends laughed. The waiter stumbled over his next sentence
"Uhhh, I just meant that a lot of times kids that go to Emory like to split up the checks because like, they might never see each other again."
He went on, saying something so insignificant that I already don't remember it. What the fuck? Is this guy kidding? "What just went down?" asked my friend Neil, returning from the bathroom. "That guy's tip," I replied. Although in the end, we left him 14%. After all, he might have been sincere in excusing his comment. Or, he might have been a misanthropic, desolate, alienated aberration, a clown. Who am I to say?
For lunch, I had mexican food. tex-mex, really. The 3 Enchiladas lunch special, Santana playing in the background, got the $1.00 soup but never received it. The waiter, who was either surly or an antisocial moron, brought the check at long last and then asked me if we were Emory students. "Yes," I replied.
Waiter: "that explains a lot."
I snapped back: "What does that mean?"
Waiter: "Oh, nothing"
He disappears into his kitchen-lair, and I explain to my friends what just happened. All 6 of us were indignant to say the least. We started to figure out who owed what. I threw down ten bucks in the interest of speeding up the process. The waiter came back, looking either impatient or like a dull robot fuck who doesn't know how to correlate emotion and expression. I think it was the latter but you really can't tell sometimes.
"Do you need a pen to figure this out and write out the individual prices?"
At this point, I am furious. This food was nothing special, and despite having 10 people in the restaurant including us, this fucking joke of a waiter was trying to patronize us. Either that, or he was a martian weirdo from outer space, and doesn't know how to interact with humans.
"No, we go to Emory, bro" was my retort. My friends laughed. The waiter stumbled over his next sentence
"Uhhh, I just meant that a lot of times kids that go to Emory like to split up the checks because like, they might never see each other again."
He went on, saying something so insignificant that I already don't remember it. What the fuck? Is this guy kidding? "What just went down?" asked my friend Neil, returning from the bathroom. "That guy's tip," I replied. Although in the end, we left him 14%. After all, he might have been sincere in excusing his comment. Or, he might have been a misanthropic, desolate, alienated aberration, a clown. Who am I to say?
How many posts does it take to get to the center of the
Midwestern front?
Frozen tundras. conundras,
barracudas, rotundas
Dolph Lundgren's verandas
Miranda's panda
endangered black/white Santa
Santa Bear with his
Christmas Claws
Christmas Clause: Kris Kross
litmus test: crystal balls
coal colder than a stocking
stuffed like a po'boy
Chippewa is so soy
green beans salad
yeah
Frozen tundras. conundras,
barracudas, rotundas
Dolph Lundgren's verandas
Miranda's panda
endangered black/white Santa
Santa Bear with his
Christmas Claws
Christmas Clause: Kris Kross
litmus test: crystal balls
coal colder than a stocking
stuffed like a po'boy
Chippewa is so soy
green beans salad
yeah
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