August 2011
1 post
And if I look into yer eyes I’ll be...
February 2011
0 posts
Why Richard Brautigan Shot Himself in the Head
“Over and over again—”
I interrupt myself and raise a finger to the sky as he looks up and time appears to dilate, the arm he is using to slowly cycle groceries from one belt to the other and from then on into the mouths and asses of the dopey persons now slowly rising to distraction from the minutia lagging as it moves the air from the air upwardly like gas rising from a swamp,...
December 2010
2 posts
Three New Poyms
I.
I woke myself up; THIS IS DAY ONE since I’ve learned (sines I’ve earned) and as well how to dissect different and particular and peculiar aspects of an oss- cillation and how to meditate on the drawn out moments within, each shining mathematical hues like just a spark in an eye water- ing with Fynndlit.
II.
After I finish my book I’ll take the time to get to know a...
"Grok"
I.
What is the soul? The soul is to hijack a train so as to shake the police. And things unfathomable, in both possible senses; the Yin and the Yang and the tango of objects as instruments of torture and rapture, and those unfathomable things in-between. It is to turn around and see you, right there, right in front of you. It is to write of the cicadas in the dew and somewhere having the same...
October 2010
1 post
Two Girls Kissing
Presently, my red blood cells are petrified in the centrifuge of the universe. Frozen in Energic-Memory-Eternal ecstasy and pulled in thru lateral earth pressure, the plasma milked from every star in the cosmos nourishes the blood. The sound of cat-gut heart-strings glass cylinders and drones emanating from the empty page clashes with the size of my eyelids as everything is spun into cotton candy...
August 2010
5 posts
SOLAMENTE LOS ESPEJOS
600 years in San Diefggh selling vinyl siding to cranky, spoiled housewives in the suburbs in the tundra, always yelling, “El olvido! El olvido!” with blank Hamburger Helper eyes staring into the Abyss. I throw my surfboard into the river Styx. Waves lick my ankles, a Galápagos island for each foot. A part of my Brain given as a gift to the Mother I married, taken out thru the nose. ...
08/25 SOULPOYMS
Numero Uno This can be appreciated (in proper reflections) as being a moment for to provide and shape with negative reinforcement. Negative and positive are the same. “Sadness is a radical quantity,” says Elliott, this yelled at the stars from the bow of a fishing boat by the man who knew of the leg-high grass universally, where I knew it in microcosm. I will speak of mirrors and...
Willing to Take the Blame: 00:00 to 28:56 (Alena...
The circumference of the Sun. It sets on burnt-ochre moss. Rising again, knocking on my window. It’s a continuous loop, see, the Energy. Repeating, but degrading. Entropy. Decay of light. Each revolution bringing new territory. The Sun improvises blue notes as the sky bruises yellow and pink. Light refracts inside shattered sky. Entropy. Things get darker. The tide rises, pulled by the...
Another e-mail to my mother.
You misunderstand. That’s acceptable. Try to see outside your perception of reality. I’m not trying to condescend by saying that; I am as guilty as most in that respect. But you are perceiving my words in ways that corroborate the illusion that I am somehow angry or resentful toward you, or ignoring you. As with everyone, including myself, I see your view of the world and universe...
An Inconsolable Sadness
There, I found the world when I touched that tree in the courtyard of St. Ann’s, You can break them in, where he sat in the rain, staring at the ground. I called it, “a Vast Sadness”, but I was wrong as I look down, and you point your gun there as I climbed the bow of the ship made of concrete Surrounded by sea, surrounded by trees. I wrapped my arms around the trunk and I almost cried. I...
July 2010
3 posts
...or how she absorbed the radiance; sucked it...
Infinitely and yet not upward We all have an Eye in our stomachs Attuned to the oscillating wavelength of the blue, blue windows behind the stars and the retreating troops of hairlines thru which float Down (in between the In-Between) the follicles of the Three Dimensional plane Inward and yet not infinitely we all have a sparkle in our Eyes Crawl into my stomach and I’ll show you how it...
June 6 E-Mail to My Mother
What the hell are you talking about in the second paragraph? Doesn’t make any sense. Anyway, I am moving back to San Diego because it is a place that makes me happy. I was filled with discontent when I was living there last, admittedly; I was restless. But I’ve kept in contact with everyone I knew there. I went back in January, and a friend from down South was visiting me here...
Attn: Spaceship, Re: "Goulda"
Like a great ebony obelisk slicked with wet moss; slid into perfect words, more voluminous than language, with urged smoothness. Like the time we all looked at each other. It exists in the echoes, mostly, of the angelic frequency rather than in the very alimentary formulations of the Chayot; the frequencies that vibrate in the crystalline walls of the Continous Loop. It is brief but exists...
June 2010
1 post
Aya-Kaich
Haven’t been myself in eight days Haven’t been myself in an age I don’t need help to be led astray I don’t need help, I know what to say
Meet me at the top of Aya-Kaich Meet me where the leg-high grass oscillates Meet me at the top of Aya-Kaich Where the grass is leg high I postulate
Think about death Think about slaves Think about death and all the ones you saved Think...
May 2010
2 posts
A message from the Male, the Substance in the...
Recall the beginning of time. Recall the cicadas waking up on the dew. Recall the time she looked at you and she smiled and looked away when you were both sitting naked on the dock. Recall when you saw the first breaths and when you killed the spider. Recall when you asked her why her heart was beating so fast, and she replied, simply, “Why is yours?” Recall when you threw the can of...
when i was a kid i used to pray headaches away...
February 2010
2 posts
Big Top (Numero Tres)
Wrapped in seaweed, wrapped in kelp from the water that will melt from the ice caps in yer head The ones that have a salt smell
Our separate lives are parallel A set of lies that I will tell The crown’s replaced by a headdress made from the horns of an elk
That also furnishes the pelt in which yer exhumed body rests in an ethereal nest made from the things that we felt
Before I packed my...
moments in time
open was the word i saw when i imagined the page in my mind split open and melt, it told me i think that’s the name of a phish song open, like the gap between the blinking, parallel lines like the gash the oozes sap red sap from the pubis of the torso that grows upward from the earth that grows into other torsos with other pubic marks and more sap legs covered in sores and blisters and the...
December 2009
1 post
My Pagan Beliefs
Maybe you could paint yer teeth Baby, you could have some empathy Baby, you could get real mean You could get into dentistry You could get on yer knees You could pray ‘till you fall asleep We could make our insides bleed We could make it into an industry We could sell it on the streets We could turn a profit instantly We could get some money We could live comfortably Repackage the unease and...
November 2009
2 posts
Quick message to Sharpie.
Oh Lordy… That would be absolutely amazing! Let me message my address to you asap. So how is the store holding up? I have been having visions that it has collapsed since my departure. I mean, Renz and Crum are still there, and they can still run the place, I guess, but they’re gonna have to be picking up a lot of slack. By the way, I have a message I would like you to run by the...
Phone Messages (in Frog Pajamas)
“Uh, hello. This is…this is, ah, Aggot. Ummm… You’ve…you’ve caught me at a bad time. I’m ah..uh, currently unable to write. [audible groan] It’s ah… [sigh] been a difficult time; um, the past few months I’ve, ah, I’ve relocated. I, ah— As you may already know I’ve moved to the island of, uh, Bravitzlana Rubakalva…...
October 2009
3 posts
Got to be starting something... What I got down...
Grasping at the hair that is caked onto the curved sides as I slip down the kitchen drain into the belly of city, into the river of gnawed-on alligator bones and the entire area’s genetic code, I look up at the constricting pupil of light emitting Hawking radiation and sliding away, as if gravity were pulling the unexposed event horizon into itself, and allowing me to float up into heavens...
What dreams have dreamt me into existence...
We’ve been working at Disneyland, yeah, indentured servants in the water park staging war games underwater, mock city that folds up into itself; Polly Pocket. When something goes wrong in the machinery, it closes like a bear-trap to shield the maintenance from view; from the fat faceless frozen-lemonade-sucking Pizza Port motherfuckers who force my head underwater nineteen hours a day with...
Cigarettes Hurt Babies and Why I Hate Women
I, once again, had to finish a book. Two nights ago, I pulled a shift and a half at the Cryptic Corporation, unloading eyeball masks and old ghetto blasters until 3 AM, the harsh plutonium lighting of Homer Flynn’s toolshed bringing the germinating blisters in the skin of my naked back to bloom once again in the midnight spring of the secret room, the pus burrowing out to warm itself in the...
September 2009
2 posts
What have you dreamt into existence?
I sprinkle dried flakes of coconut in my coffee and I think about you on that island, in that minivan. You were younger than me, and as the driver (a silent and irrelevant man or woman in the shadows of the driver’s seat; the elongated shadows of late afternoon) parked, you looked up at me with that holy manic Dean Moriarty madness; brown eyes, I think, almost fully awake in frog pajamas....
A Moth Splashes Around in a Toilet; Japan and...
I worked yesterday. Not a single pore spilled a single drop of sweat; not a single muscle exerted itself beyond the realm of placid comfort. Eight listless hours were spent scanning and switching out smelly TV dinners and grazing unkempt fingernails against the crystals, blandly exclaiming the customary hunky dorys and mozeltovs to the disinterested masses and their tiny, impotent cigarettes. I...
August 2009
6 posts
Short excerpt from, "My Dream is for the First...
When I die, it shall be in the forests of Mount San Jacinto, in the peaks that shelter Idyllwild, California. When I pass thru the leg high grass, I shall die. With the August sun beating down on my shriveled skin and the dregs of the unmolested snow that will remain from the previous night’s snowfall, I will reach into my dwarf’s thermos and I will touch the tip of my tongue to the...
Art for What It's Meant
art for what it’s meant for shoving us on the ground and forcing us into making sense teaching an animal to repent to make it rush to its own defense to make it lose its self-respect and make sure everything is properly spent smoke it to the stub, by god, use it up, my friend everyone one of us is a god and every breath makes a dent every breath keeps us current alive and relevant on a...
Breathing, Blinking, and Bitches
for Ian, my water brother,
Torch me up into something gaseous just a vapor or something placid something that will build up as ash or camphor on the ceiling or the banister that allowed Johnn Balance to beat out the eventuality of liver cancer then scrape the buildup with something plastic and dispose of me promptly when you go camping don’t bleed all over my fingers, though, babe...
Falling Asleep
I am falling asleep, and the air above my head is being meaninglessly displaced like the flicker of a votive candle in an unvisited church. If chalk were able to stick to the watered-down green of my cheap sheets, it would provide an outline for my sprawled body. I am lying on my stomach like a dog, my wrists curled with the playfulness of paws; legs bent askew and crossed as if nailed to the...
Because Pretending Always
You’d be surprised at how much skin is on a face. I’ve been slowly picking away at mine for the past three weeks and though I can feel the sharp outlines of my jawbone when I run my index through the blood, looking for crevasses and pockmarks on which to focus my efforts, I am still an eternity of layers away from actually hitting bone. I am beginning a route of suspicion which will...
Between 7 & 7 30 AM (in One Direction, Linear)
Jacob parks the car.
“So this is what I think about existence:”
I take a drag from my cigarette and wait for him to continue.
“Everything is the same. There’s this one thing and everything is a part of it,”
“Does it have a name?,”
“No.”
“So it’s just ‘everything’, right?”
“Exactly. When you try to...
July 2009
4 posts
For Kevin: some lyrics to start us off with...
Prehistoric water creatures crawling up my spine Ocean floor-dwelling leeches swimmin’ toward the light In my brain and beneath the lids of my eyes ‘Till I can’t even see her; ‘till I am blind Floating slowly in the ether up to the sky Heading nowhere, going Eastward as they pass by The stomachs of those who’ve eaten their piece of the pie Where their souls and the...
Cut-up salvaged from the remaining fragments of,...
Prescience the hole herself. The message taught and spoke to and felt Delta Dodecalactone not malleable. At ease without him more Negating. Aggot and Kevin are the same within his nature, as if he could the bleeding pink lump. Energy this was much less out of as he attempted him; the most primitive of human desires: vanity incarnate in her veins. Thrive on excess and impulse, him in A votive...
The Man in the Red Toque
I’ll buy a postcard and send it off to you Don’t read the words on the back no matter what you do Look through your eyelids for an eternity or two if you really want your feet to touch the soles of my shoes My dear, you look tired, are your thoughts aloof? You should wake up and embrace my abuse or sleep ‘cause that’s when yer eyes really start to move I am a liar but...
a quick message to a friend
I just read your letter and I am shaking; tears didn’t come but I expected them to.
I love you, brother, and as I am Morpheus, the one who exists longer than others (it’s because of my glasses and my hair and the way it goes around) before and after and right now, I can geniunely say that I have known you before and after and right now as you come down down from that acid and that you...
June 2009
4 posts
The Business End of a Cigarette (Final)
For Delta Dodecalactone: The business end of a cigarette brushes your adrenal cortex It has a bizarre effect on the glands behind your forehead You spent some time on the ledge Showin’ off yer cunt and yer breasts Yes, that is where we met Where you pushed me off to my death The business end of a cigarette connected to the guns, I checked It stays the same for what is left of...
In retrospect, the moment is still passing.
Something to remember.
Shit from the back side of the sheet of paper I...
Unfinished and never will be.
My semen will begin to rust The metallic edges of your calloused husk The far fringes of inhuman trust and the smeared accumulation of lunar dust that coats the inside of your lungs That hopes to one day touch your tongue To cover it and make it numb; swollen as if it were stung By the stingers of a million bugs that pierce the thin skin like male plugs ...
The Animals in Manclothe (Rough Translation)
“Camels mate and the desert procreates,” he said. He had that cryptic way of speaking. Carved out of limestone, drenched in tonic water, the faux-calcification of quinine buildup on his skin kept the mosquitoes away.
May 2009
9 posts
Excerpt From a Euthanasia Themed Song
I have a nasty disease called tip of the tongue I live in constant slavery of the things I coulda done My soul is absorbed by the trees; is fed by the sun It mixes those two energies from the leaves to the stump Distill these words that I said and make yerself drunk Point your penis at my head and violently cum My tenure’s coming to and end, but at least it was fun And we’ll all forget...
Big Top: Another Verse
You must pay for what you break Twist my neck like a turn of phrase Lap the milk up from my snake Or any serpent that lactates Any reptile that I’ll hate That pushes me out of the frame That reminds me that I’ve been raped That my testicles are now grapes You suck them inward with the great Hole that violently shakes That you’ll one day use to mate The one that gives you many...
New beginnings...
The business end of a cigarette
Brushes your adrenal cortex
It has a bizzare effect
on the gland behind your forehead
What did I have to do
1nigr:
for this to happen? Nothing, apparently.
The Business End of a Cigarette (Mk. II)
The business end of a cigarette
Brushing your adrenal cortex
It stays the same, for what is left
It doesn’t have the same effect
Well I forgot to neglect
the thought that we die in suspense
That there is interest
that it makes a difference
You spent some time on the ledge
Wasting time and making friends
Yes, that is where we met
Where you pushed me off to my death
The Business End of a Cigarette (TENTATIVE)
The business end of a cigarette
Under your cerebral cortex
It stays the same, for what is left
Don’t worry, it’s special effects
Well I forgot to neglect
the thought that we die in suspense
That there is interest
that it makes a difference
The Cornfield II
We started on the left, two abreast and working forward as we plowed through the corn. We were chopping leaves and bits of cob from the plants but doing no more damage. Incidentally, what we were looking for had flowered and therefore rooted itself into the nearest patch of soil deep enough to accommodate its long roots; we had to act NOW. The corn would no longer be immediately harmed, yes,...
The Cornfield
quickly drained of its essence (and quickly) Started and therefore rooted itself into the nearest patch of soil deep enough to accommodate had flowered. we had to act NOW. the flowers were brightening to green. damage. Incidentally, yes, but the soil would be by the flowering beings in the field. its long roots; They were already visibly growing taller, Algonquin, as we plowed what we were...
Big Top
A circus act when I’m around Strobing lights and moaning sounds You stretch my corpse out on the ground Take off your clothes and pin me down Suck my soul up into the clouds In through the bottom of your gown The frilly hem a blood-soaked brown I drink the mess and then I drown On your forehead a golden crown Made of eggs and unbleached flour I despise that it makes you proud But I like what...