Tuesday, March 29, 2005

so on the jukebox comes Trout Mask Replica Finnegan’s Wake of rock and roll all fast n’ bulbous n’ …never in a pro pirate Pachuco Cadaver is the tune n’ the guitars - Antennae Jim n’ Zoot Horn Rollo they go down South and in a shock you hear the Allman bro's all is all a golden ball the ball it flow old fart at play with reborn ears 10:17:25 AM    comment []

Saturday, February 05, 2005

lurking in your box-shaped heads with yellowed teeth and lizard eyes and old excuses from the farm methinks there dwells a demon   when your body’s lost all shape and memory is random you’ll dream of little victories the cries of starving lepers   I wish that I believed in hell I wish that I believed in hell 1:36:44 PM    comment []

Thursday, January 27, 2005

Vapor Rises Something loose. Something loud. Mind came rattling like a big iron horse. Everybody on board. Dark hair girl she think she had the draw on me. A person doesn't care. Not necessarily. Hungry. A person might not have a vested interest in caring. Blonde hair girl called mommy. You see now how a man can get confused. I've been working on the railroad, 1944. Working on the big iron horse. Blaze. Hungry now. I do not know this nurse. I used to be a movie star, taking lunch with Errol Flynn. Mommy it's true. Old man in the mirror sneered at me. Smacked him and I cut my hand. Where's the rest of me? Something loose, something lost, it's like I never left.   3:43:05 PM    comment []

Sunday, January 16, 2005

Charley Blowed. Wild out there. Wind cry like uh punk ass boy. Ya, a boy. It punch the boy, most thoroughly did. Ya? Ya. He holla? Ya, squeal like piggy. Bet so. Charley bad storm. Muy bad. Punch like a bumblebee. Punch like a bumblebee? Stupid head. Sting. Yomama. We got uh quick relief. Icey water up downtown. Ya? Icey water and uh marshmallow pies and rice in uh big brown sack. Tree onna car. Haveta walk. No prob. President walks. Ya, he do. Still like Flarda. Still do. Hot summah, warm winta, blow da fuck outta us, don’t care. Don’t care neither. Toasty. 10:29:40 AM    comment []

Saturday, January 08, 2005

Small silver balls These word are ringing through his head,     four quarter notes in repetitious Christmas drone. small silver balls... He is trying to recall a dream, But the notes get in the way,     blocking all the details. It is a dream about transformation,     or mutation,     or change. Elements of fright, and elements of wonder. The first ball is a curiosity. He sees it on his cheek, size of a tiny beebee.  Small silver ball, buried in his flesh. Just the top shining through, it sparkles like a diamond. He scratches, and it pops out, falling to the floor. 'What the hell', he mutters. 'I command myself: forget it'. But there are more. Dream time passes. Details all scratched out. Small silver balls. At least a dozen,     showing on his shirtless chest. They pop like ripe new pimples, leaving tiny pits behind. 10:47:22 AM    comment []

Tuesday, December 21, 2004

IMHO... ...you need guidance. You think I'm kidding? You got a lot to learn buddy... Does anyone other than the authorities think that there there might be something just a tad odd in the way that you've been sprouting fresh containers? As though each and every cautious thought seeks careful categories? There is a need for order but it crushes. Not so much as a person, but as a cross section. This behavior indicates a certain rigidity. A lack of will to evolve. Not so much resistance as disinterest. Above: The lovely and talented Miss Julie London. 7:21:18 PM    comment []

Monday, December 13, 2004

11:19:49 AM    comment []