"Be leaf to know belief,"
sang tree to seed on stormy reach -
One screaming wrenching
underneathing
every child she'd
never leave'd
8/14/2018
8/12/2018
The Aquamarine Chariot
charges to land's beginning
outpacing even
the winds’ own wheels
Its glass facade splinters in bolts -
Stampeding, unheeding
while gathering ire
unsheathing and speeding
to the island of fire -
Waves hurl herselves
awash in bells
(the tireless immortal sea
debased in her futility)
toward Land, her lord
to ward, to horde
the shining swimmers,
shells and glimmers
of sandy bottles
cracked ashore
charges to land's beginning
outpacing even
the winds’ own wheels
Its glass facade splinters in bolts -
Stampeding, unheeding
while gathering ire
unsheathing and speeding
to the island of fire -
Waves hurl herselves
awash in bells
(the tireless immortal sea
debased in her futility)
toward Land, her lord
to ward, to horde
the shining swimmers,
shells and glimmers
of sandy bottles
cracked ashore
8/07/2018
daytime tv
transcribed on
black ribbon:
"can you help us
brunch h ? []"
smiling blonde
a plant
for the host
she looks
like she
believes
in heaven
her lips are from hell
steve harvey's face
ghastly plastic
above closed
scrambled captions
"brunc h grls club i am 25"
this blonde beacon
is pushing forty
is not blonde
pan to seated
female smiles
in bright jewel tones
black ribbon:
"can you help us
brunch h ? []"
smiling blonde
a plant
for the host
she looks
like she
believes
in heaven
her lips are from hell
steve harvey's face
ghastly plastic
above closed
scrambled captions
"brunc h grls club i am 25"
this blonde beacon
is pushing forty
is not blonde
pan to seated
female smiles
in bright jewel tones
7/29/2018
who are the gods
blood flows in ditches on the road from rome
who are the gods
that call men home
to vacant deaths on slave-made stone
where are their seats at the table of the dead
the banquet prepared
the men well fed
who speaks the prayer and breaks the bread
the empty chamber can hold no more
what more beyond sour sweat and blood
must stain the teeth
of their ancient brood
must gild the mildew on their putrid food
the empty chamber is never full
who are the gods
that call men home
to vacant deaths on slave-made stone
where are their seats at the table of the dead
the banquet prepared
the men well fed
who speaks the prayer and breaks the bread
the empty chamber can hold no more
what more beyond sour sweat and blood
must stain the teeth
of their ancient brood
must gild the mildew on their putrid food
the empty chamber is never full
7/12/2018
oil on skin
tan chest
liquid bronze
a man, a blade
to press a
line, rotation of
figure, in vacuum
unreal light
created by
(repeat <1x to form a broken hoop)
-
The Punchline
a bhuddist walks into a bar.
life is suffering.
-
great loss of life v. small gain of death:
a weak slight of hand then nothing is left,
yet absence remains without sign of theft.
tan chest
liquid bronze
a man, a blade
to press a
line, rotation of
figure, in vacuum
unreal light
created by
(repeat <1x to form a broken hoop)
-
The Punchline
a bhuddist walks into a bar.
life is suffering.
-
great loss of life v. small gain of death:
a weak slight of hand then nothing is left,
yet absence remains without sign of theft.
6/06/2018
1) i can't have sex with you so i procreate pro creatively while this day flies too fast slowly we'd better touch soon and look around at the vanishing views of this day too fast, slowly touch, soon, look, vanish.
2) if you want me you better speak up i will wait i can sleep with you when i'm dead you want me
3) please derive multiple meanings by end of day without attempting to punctuate but penetrate please derive multiple orgasms by end attempt without attempting
4) generations pass while we fuck on they live and die as sub-fucks of the epic epoch
5) wherever you go i form instant cliffs in front of you i hold your breath and push
Recipes:
1 2 3 4 5 - trickle of consciousness
2 5 2 5 - codependent despair
4 3 2 - longing in reverse
5 6 - the unsaid ending
2) if you want me you better speak up i will wait i can sleep with you when i'm dead you want me
3) please derive multiple meanings by end of day without attempting to punctuate but penetrate please derive multiple orgasms by end attempt without attempting
4) generations pass while we fuck on they live and die as sub-fucks of the epic epoch
5) wherever you go i form instant cliffs in front of you i hold your breath and push
Recipes:
1 2 3 4 5 - trickle of consciousness
2 5 2 5 - codependent despair
4 3 2 - longing in reverse
5 6 - the unsaid ending
6/04/2018
When I was young I fell down a bluff, deep in the woods behind my house. I fell because it was night, and I couldn’t see. Also, my eyes weren’t working because my brain wasn’t receiving images; it was locked on a single immovable blackness.
I left my home in the middle of the night because it wasn’t my home. I remember easily slipping through the window, but after touching the ground and for a long time after, portions of my memory are absent, unrecorded or maybe censored. I don’t remember what I was wearing or if it was hot or cold, raining or dry. Sensation had ended by then, everything was remote except the drive to move, a need for changing through physical action.
I guess I must have walked around the house and crashed awkwardly into the woods. Branches were lines, geometric obstacles to my destination, which was away, or over there, a moving target. Through the glimmering blackness in my mind I sensed that tree trunks and rocks were darker than the shadows they produced. But there was no moon. There was nothing. For a long time I walked through it. Then suddenly there was a breath upward and a freedom like being carried.
I landed in a heap at the bottom of the bluff, bleeding and dazed. My shoulder and some right ribs broke, and so did the blackness. It was cut by streaks of red clarity. Standing up took a long time, and as I got to my feet shards of black fell away from my vision like glass from a shattered window.
I saw the dark forest and myself in it, lost. I felt horrible pain and fear of dying. I didn’t know where to go, so I remained there.
I left my home in the middle of the night because it wasn’t my home. I remember easily slipping through the window, but after touching the ground and for a long time after, portions of my memory are absent, unrecorded or maybe censored. I don’t remember what I was wearing or if it was hot or cold, raining or dry. Sensation had ended by then, everything was remote except the drive to move, a need for changing through physical action.
I guess I must have walked around the house and crashed awkwardly into the woods. Branches were lines, geometric obstacles to my destination, which was away, or over there, a moving target. Through the glimmering blackness in my mind I sensed that tree trunks and rocks were darker than the shadows they produced. But there was no moon. There was nothing. For a long time I walked through it. Then suddenly there was a breath upward and a freedom like being carried.
I landed in a heap at the bottom of the bluff, bleeding and dazed. My shoulder and some right ribs broke, and so did the blackness. It was cut by streaks of red clarity. Standing up took a long time, and as I got to my feet shards of black fell away from my vision like glass from a shattered window.
I saw the dark forest and myself in it, lost. I felt horrible pain and fear of dying. I didn’t know where to go, so I remained there.
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