Sunday, November 23, 2008

Planet Chat

To my brother, Patrick

well, yes. the planet and naming it "ours" idea is an idea
like whoever gets there first
it becomes there.
the grammar in that is terrible.
like columbus, arriving
and calling this place "new york"
thus making it new york

even though it's clearly not new york, but some place
to someone else. “and how we have named planets
that are billions of light years away from us
even though we will probably never reach them”
not even knowing what are planets are made of
or what kind of music they like there.
but I was also thinking about this idea as an educator...
people learn the english that I teach them. Interesting!
so if I decide to describe something a certain way, they're going to believe that.
it's a bit scary, when you think about it.

Thursday, November 20, 2008

Residence in the Treehut

What’s happening to the crème filing: Fact that parting stands and sits. So quickly machinations of funerals. Departure. A loss for sight. Underground commuter rail. Eek out. Moment’s chocolate. Translucence bails. Broken into a momentous rhumba. Returns to the juicer. Counts more other fingers. The decision of storms, baguettes and newspapers of morning flights in the new bright. Terminal. It’s the second you, defibrillatorless. A sword swallower with life. And wants to fight.

Sunday, November 16, 2008

A terrible attempt at Children's Writing

Ted $$$ had a job a railroad submarine
She sprayed the leather twice
And the Metal…kleen
Aye, spleen? Can’t be seen.
Doctors’ find envy and paint it green?
When voting, the spleen of Ted resembles submarine

We once all voted green
Elephant Ted blends with garden furnishings
Camouflaged, wanting a degree in economics
But is mildly Chthonic
And has a trunk up on it

But practice a u-turn with the car –
U? Are we buckled? Yes we are –
Crashes and begets his elbow scar:
How’d my arm bend that way? No way
“Impossibilitay!” Ted sprays
Gatorade on the tusk blade,
I’m ½ Maylay
Part English, part protectionism inlay.

The army wants Ted
But Ted treads gratefully, now sed,
What’s sed, I’m dead…not tired, but well bred
If only I found a rhyme for exit strategy.
Slatternly? Oh drat Phyllis Schlafly?

Are you getting ready to try Communlisp?
This clisp, Clasp, don’t budge,
Sit still, cowering over fruit berry remix you cannot resist?
I’m the second boy grip for never been kist.
Sunkissed! You can’t be that dissed!
You miss it? No, class dismissed.

Saturday, November 15, 2008

In Need of Expansion

Sometimes the Bunny is stressed. Yes, sometimes it is stress that gets the bunny before the vet. When the vet gets the bunny, s/he pets the bunny to calm the bunny. At a remove the bunny appears selfless, Lincolnesque. The bunny then does what we call "relinquishing," whereby it moves toward a corner and gives us treats. Though this behavior is seen as improvement, it should not be encouraged in vain. In order to not fall pretty urgently in awe/love/aww cuteness with such a wayward, twee creature, we must allow the vet to pet the bunny OUT of the corner. This can be disconcerting, as I'm sure you can imagine. The bunny will not, in its initial stages, like this. Nor will there be bristling enough to challenge notions held previously pertaining to how bunnies defend. The dog wouldn't either. Think about it.
Hence, sometimes the bunny is stressed, and rightfully so. Urine kits, or "Strips" as they are known in more decorative circles, display and eyeful to anyone wishing their bunny not relinquish. Best of luck in your urine kit search.

Friday, November 14, 2008

Crazy (racist) fashionistas

{Editors note: To The man who obviously doesn't know much at all....Stop emailing me backchannel with your weird racist screeds.]

To wit:

The Sartorialist is photographing what he likes white this white that. Apparently he likes white tall skinny skeleton women and when it comes down to men he is more diverse (white, cream, off-white, eggshell white, creamout white, harlequin white, white nanny, WHIATE!). For me that is all legitimized (white) because it is his blog and indeed “if you do not like it, leave it.” –George Bush

Then you start ranting on about non-white, white that. SO I took a look at your profile and indeed you are from the US of A as I thought (white). My (white) God, you people are so fuckin overwhite sensitive and politically correct it makes me sick in my whiteness. It makes me even realize (British spelling, you white ignoramus US of A’er) I do not have to argue with you anymore, because I’m white and you’re white and because you will never understand my point of view.

He is not a white pioneer because he doesn’t kill anyone with white influenza and he stands in his own right not to choose for that. You should become the pioneer and that particular area - speaking about gap in the market -.

Here's the work of this genius, over at some blog about my plane's peanuts have bigger balls than your plane's peanuts

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

Pontiac, Mo

To much obscenity is around today

Put out, airing a bigger set of lips

To prepare for those bad words

They have targets for their cursing, the usual

Market crisis, palimony, orthodontic doubt

Where victory is draining my gums

Because I can't find a decent dental plan

And I blame the young.

And venture into their seats.

Young girls have been treating their period vulgar.

A loss of a sacred sacrificial distinction,

Distance themselves

Their mouths actually ask for detergent. Or find replacements. Personally,

Forget girls, I blame the young of all shapes and sizes, who’d puff

Their chests into a rubber human to break high scores

Because you’ll need power before power needs you.

Multiple throwing arms full and I can toss more barrels

Aggression into meaningful ramifications

Identified as owl, ox, donkey and sheep, chemically. It’s worth

Every cent to not negotiate. I won’t wear that cap. It’s a “migrate or get loaded” cap

Because we feel limp on video, and alcohol on video is pretzel.

I feel I echo the young who to blame American families for ass plunged

And fatal ass spelunking. That familiar, familial, personal gossip of blame

I target the young. I’m very consistently boning this doctor frequency

I have a picture of Dakota and it’s worthwhile.

I have a picture of tommy gun. It’s worthwhile.

I have a picture of the Manhattan Experiment and it’s worthwhile.

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

A short story I might be working on?

Running shouldn’t be made part of a daily routine due to weather. Like, just you get up with a leaky faucet. Chipper children. The boat launch. A ragged dog ignores the regulation of traffic because breakfast is most important, today. Spent all night barking, sore mouth doesn’t improve in seven days. The doctor calls it brackish.

Ragged again, sunlight grapple a niche in all tangled fabric. I’m warming. Grab my rod and reel, approaching the rail. Fish biting nice in numbers. Little fishy mouths mute for little music bits. Cultures of the past considered this form of purity to allow the fish to address small amounts of dirty humans to cure diseases in fish populations. Consider it a blessing removing your dry skin cells. The bed for dander.

Water of such an ending. Retaking the human, that recollection. Squids mirror, Italian take out. Kung pow eyes up from inside white boxes mixed in with the froth on spin.

Sunday, November 09, 2008

Impasse Updated

Part of where my questioning has really worked is the last area for questions, in the life of each pair of pants I own.

Part of where my questioning has concerned itself has been with how to cut cheese.

Stan Apps talks fitfully about sarcasm and irony, sincerity and subtlety, as well as the duplicitous nature of being subtle.

Then I wanted to rewrite this poem I've been working on called "Humiliatingly Close Prose":

How the turtle will relieve your pain.

Anyone who gives this more than one star watches movies like Castaway.

You need to hold danger to see danger in long-term pain.

What smells like uncomfortable is truthfully pain.

My dream: Shit your tonsils. Who can hurt more?

I’m dropping the pain. Don’t you feel a tiny bit sorry for moldy voldy?

What you feel is fucking pain.

Where I can escape and thrill in the chase like Hugo's dead dog, Tiny URL.
The pain so tiny I have treat pain in tiny patients video.

Controlled sugar suckling behind it. And go far away out of pain’s way, Spock.

A mother, two kids, six reasons to leave, and a ticket to heaven.

If heaven is a rocking chair loaded with explosions

Sprawling pain has made a bed in a forest from far away.

Since this painful garbage has parked in our lozenge, we spoil.

There isn’t a way to speak about beach reclamation without paining the turtles.

I wanted to be entertainment, not to be painfully propaganda.

Good fortune is ruined by reliable weekly pickup taking pain-causing agents far away:

Where they can escape with diverse funds by grasping your country’s flaws and real pain

Something bad in your head, like my hands have known fear so, later.

Friday, November 07, 2008

Impasse and Musings

I feel like I've hit a wall with my writing.

I feel like I'm repeating myself in my work.

I feel like I'm too impatient. Impatient for what?!

Is there anything the matter with any of this?

I feel that in the wake of recent events, writing's dynamic has changed for me, even the way I see words on the page and the funny things those words do to me.

Just read David Markson's, SPRINGER'S PROGRESS.

Here's a copy of what I said to the box at Goodreads:

Amazing. Sticky: it'll leave you thinking in glottal snippets, and laughing through betxits and twists, tantrums of Springer. You might ask, "how many ways can Markson say something..." Answer? Rubs it out: legion.

This book affects.

Make no mistake. Humbled I am in the face of this quivering magnificence.

What do you do when you feel humbled by everything you read?


Wednesday, November 05, 2008


Also, [the article] just kind of throws all the people going out and having fun into one big boat of going out and having fun people, many of whom when they aren't going out and having fun are working so that others can go out and have fun, too.

consolation station

I want to say dead heart
Is it beatingless heart?
English plz?
Cold throat. Monuments
Dude I remember that sight
Banana logo
Minnesota has grown a beating heart in a jar
The viewpoint rotates
Awash in riches and gas
Geek baby for free
The doctor burst with his findings
Holy frak! Take proper actions
When a person needs consoling

Monday, November 03, 2008


As much wants
The bull to
Ground every
Last matador
Gut doughy face worms
Pull pork race card detaches
Whatever pigmented samurai;
Dipping into the line as if
String binds