Thursday, December 9, 2010

3 Step Program

1) Stretch
2) Drool
3) Ache

It's a 3 step program for instant weight loss and quick riches. Guaranteed to work for you because it worked so well for me. Approved by an independent board of my colleagues as a real prescription for solutions worldwide!

Tako Dramash Esaf

Tar comes dripping among ashes and faith
Fate comes tripping a minute too late
Breaking, shaking, waking, baking
Weeping, praying for a spanking.

Monday, December 6, 2010

Jumble

Inundating impulse with languid lethargy,
The fortitude to elongate the filibuster,
To implode the ellipse, to fill
The ledger with a florid elegy to effort.

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

Short Story

Broken glass, all over the floor. Clyde and I didn't mean to do it, but a clean conscience meant very little in our house. Our mother works until five on Fridays, which leaves the two of us one hour and forty-five minutes of unsupervised shenanigans before she gets home. We are dropped off by the bus at 3:25 sharp, and mother pulls into the driveway at 4:40, bone tired and stinking of kelp.

Usually, she fries us eggs or microwaves cheese sandwiches when she gets home. Not today. Today, we put a hole in the window. Well, I put a hole in the window with Clyde's help. So, today we would have nothing to eat but dirt - wet dirt.

I don't know when forcing us to eat dirt as a punishment started. I know that we never had to eat it when dad was still alive. But he died before either of us were born., so I guess that doesn't mean much. I just remember hearing him play the harmonica while I kicked away inside my mother's stomach.

Clyde doesn't remember anything about our Father. That doesn't surprise me considering how dumb he is. Even mom says he's the dumbest stick on the log. She doesn't say that to hurt his feelings and it doesn't really bother him. She's just telling it like it is.

She'll tell it like it is when she gets home too, I'm sure. She'll scream and cry and tell us she wishes our father had never been born. Then she'll beat us senseless with her apron straps, and pull at our eyelashes with the little pair of tweezers she keeps in her purse. It could be worse, I guess. I just wish we could have cheese sandwiches for dinner instead of dirt.

Seeing the yellow hood of her Pontiac Sunfire turn the corner and roll toward the driveway went a long way toward helping me feel better. After all, she had never been mad for longer than a couple days. I made sure of that, trimming her toenails and squeezing her shoulders. Don't worry about it Clyde. Whatever happens can only be so bad.

The door slams, and the rush of air carries her scent to our sniffling noses.

"Clyde? Where are you?"

He's been trying for an hour to hide inside one of the kitchen cupboards, but he's much too large, especially with the egg cartons stacked inside.

"Clyde?!"

Her sound of her footsteps moves closer, and suddenly she's standing right above us. She takes one glance at the broken glass and then looks at us.

"What happened here?" she asks.

"The window broke," we said in perfect unison.

"Oh," she said. Then paused, thinking. "I'm not angry. So, don't worry."

"Aren't you going to beat us or something?" I asked, reaching across the floor for her calloused foot.

While I pick the dirt from underneath her nails, she looks out the hole in the window.

"No, it's really no problem," she says. "I'll make you dinner just as soon as the window is fixed."

"How should we fix it?" I ask.

Kicking my hand away from her toes gently, she replies: "Take the glass and place it between your teeth. Grind the glass to sand, slowly at first. Then, more quickly - rapid chewing will heat the glass enough for you to rebuild the window."

Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Google Voice Transcription

Hey lou. Hello, Thanks, Dan Crow, hey, it's me, that would be street suite, hang up So I guess. Good. Thanks. Hello substitutes quizzes solution.

(many thanks to Google for finding something true in something sensible)

Monday, November 22, 2010

Crime floats in the ripening mist,
Grasping - Nobly! - for an illusion.

Recipe #47 (Clock Roast)

1. Burn the crotch over a fire of lead.
2. Lift the crisp skin away from the most tender meat.
3. Break an egg.
4. Crumble the remnants.
5. Mix well and swallow.

Saturday, November 13, 2010

fragments (assembled with assistance)

Elephant progeny
vying for Oedipa Maas,
grumbling over the meager spread
of Muddy Mustard.

Celtic motherfuckers will remember me forever:
A well groomed lawn, usually located in Leelanau County -
Your daughter,
the cold particular taste of death.

14 syllable elegy: bridge lapping, tree mapping, blue skied, poised, positioned.

realization 11 syllables: birth from my butt can't be wrong, as long as ego.

12 syllables: Doctor of Child Rebirth; Regional attraction.

Thursday, July 15, 2010

Mowed Nerves

I've chewed off all the bristles on my toothbrush and unraveled my last pair of socks.
My lungs hurt and I hope I never have to leave my couch again. Don't touch my dishes.
This apple core is the first piece of my new art installation. Over the next several years,
it will take shape, one scrap at a time. But until it's finished, you'll just have to excuse
my mess.

Wednesday, July 7, 2010

Hot Hot Heat

Next time you're melting into a puddle of your own sweat,
Try that pairing that cheap merlot with a cherry popsicle.

Saturday, July 3, 2010

Cosmic Laundry

The washing machine at my house is broken again.
(I put 2 dollars worth of quarters into its hungry jaws before coming to this conclusion.)
So, the majority of my evening was spent figuring out how to wash the chemicals off 60% of my clothing.
In the end, I got a ride to a friend's laundry machine and walked home with two trash bags full of laundry.
Now I'm listening to some really cosmic music.

It's certainly put my troubles in perspective.

I and the universe itself are locked in a battle of wits,

at the highest stakes imaginable.

So far, the universe appears to have the upper hand.

But I can't be sure.

I feel my aura brushing up against the walls.

Friday, July 2, 2010

Now I Shall Embark on a Great Project

Just you wait and see.

Wink and nudge.

Sleeping takes a lot of time, but believe me when I say, there will still be enough.

I'm not so sick anymore.

Well, I'm well enough to smoke as many cigarettes as I please.

That's a lot better than I have been.

Maybe I'll just keep it up.

See what happens.

You're the best.

I really mean that.

Keep a close eye on the past.

Keep it away from the future.

It's the outside that worries me.

In here we're safe.

I can't let myself think about what's up ahead.

I'll ruin everything the second that happens.

Spent the whole day in my brain, and I'm better for it.

Thursday, July 1, 2010

Wednesday, March 3, 2010

Bridge. Freight. Smolder. Heinous. Crotch.

I've wasted my whole life searching for more time.
And now, looking back, I would change absolutely everything.
[I'm not sure how much for the better.]

(has nothing to do with)

I just can't stop thinking: For a moment,
We were closer than beach sand.
But you see, I ravaged her like a cheeseburger
Just like the rest.

(has nothing to do with)

Much too shy to tell her the truth:
When we first met, you looked so beautiful I wanted
To pull off your skin and wrap it around my feet.

C'est vrai.

With or without your help, we're getting out of this town. I fucking swear.

I hate the way you clean your teeth with that paintbrush.

Freaks with scalpels stole my vision. (It's not what you think. It was a religious experience.)

Not until I've eaten her toenails. (I want a fetish.)

Fillings.

Inkara. (I remember.)

I lost your name.

Just jump over her. (She's dead anyway.)

Just pour it into your engine.

Oh my God, I think I'm... I'm... going!

How did he say that? Oh, I remember: "I want to look like Woody Allen when I die."

Smile, it's only family.

I hate the way this shit tastes.

You look like a crab in that dress.

Shut up and take another.

Mogul Mogul Mogul.

I digress

Seek truth in repetition.

Search for rhythm in traffic.

Walk through the beat.

Die of nothing but boredom.

Eat first, think later.

Patience is the sole luxury of the disinterested.

Believe me when I say.

I hope you wither in heat.

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

If I want to do the splits, I'll just take of my pants

[Excerpts from a DaDa Dictionary]

What is venture capital?
A fortress overrun by the Visigoths in 1268

What is philosophy?
Slang for mismatched socks

What is poverty?
A favorite beverage in Cambodia, usually sucked through a sugar cube

What is an education?
The sound of breaking glass

What is God?
A bridge connecting two bodies of water

Monday, February 15, 2010

Igloo. Igloo. Igloo. Igloo. Igloo.

Spread your legs and eat the acorn squash like a starving pilgrim.

Carry your burden gingerly.

Scalpel elegy.

Warmly received by children.

I heard a rumor that your dad...

Broader border.

I could care less, honestly. It's the time that I'm interested in.

I feel qualified.

Forced her to like.

Fill your ears with blood.

Granulated. Flavour. Belt.

Loophole finger.

Don't you dare cut that beautiful hair.

Corpses inviting worms inside.

Full. Frontal. Lobe.

Bitter igloo pinch.

Sunday, February 14, 2010

Gil Scott-Heron



I don't know what I was expecting, but I know what I found. An album that I'll have to listen to 100 times to begin fully appreciating. I feel shaken and awestruck.

Saturday, February 13, 2010

Reclipse

I'm not the kind of man that likes to eat his pussy raw. So put her on the...

He ate her, bones and all, leaving only her eyelashes (floating in a glass of milk).

It's enough the make a man rethink his whole life. I mean, what good is God when the walls are melting?

Sex in the alley behind the butcher shop on 7th street will save your marriage.

Thanks much smooth (if apples can be trusted and they)

As she came, tiny troplets of blood rose from her pores. (She knew what He knew in the garden 1962 years earlier.)

Dolly.

Perception altar.

It's our clandestiny.

Clouds burned the evidence.

Thursday, February 11, 2010

Blow Pop Cherry

Never begin a sentence with the words 'never begin a sentence.'

Scrub out the cavity with steel wool before you...

Whether or not the allegations prove to be true is less important than...

Lick the dandruff off your plate before you put it in the dishwasher. We're not the kind of family that wastes perfectly good food.

Origami - It's what's for dinner. If you're hungry that is. I couldn't eat another bite. All that good news has robbed me of my appetite, but thank you for the offer.

Looks like God is on vacation (or we woke him up with all of our noise).

Righteous flattery in an empty room under skies blue rents me.

Smoggy border patrol ships traveling portals through which we can reach now.

Barely seems worth half that much.

My foot caves.

Burden left on.

Game Plan Lips.

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

Bubonic Dick

I want to take a little more before I find out what happens just in case I really like it.

It's nothing short of treason to try.

I'm not under the impression that my soul needs saving, but I won't argue the...

I can't say for sure when the visions began but I...

Traipsing around with his melted genitalia stuck to his inner thigh like the victim of tomorrows nuclear holocaust but smiling.

I found myself marooned on an unmapped island deep in uncharted seas with nothing to eat but the rotting corpses of my dead crew.

Bludgeoned.

Tantric .

Glue.

Really should have gone soon.

Kitchen cabinet magnetic forest.

Ash blue rhyme.

Barren indigo envelope.

I want to wring out the stars and soak your cookies in the milk.

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

Nonsense never stops

We are pleased to announce the grand opening of a brand new totalitarian regime specially built for children.

Chanting ancient pagan rites over coffee.

Flatten the dough with your calloused palms until it is approximately the thickness of a deflated balloon.

Gourmet.

Cabinet.

Magnetic.

Burlesque.

Substrate.

Bantering with the man who stole my pubic hair.

It really is a tragedy, all this death being born around us.

I'll shit in your mouth until you speak the truth.

Growth substantial a show group polling corporate new our by produced studies latest the.

Monday, February 8, 2010

Nonsense of the day

God ate all the food with his hurricane mouth, leaving only shattered glass from the window he broke in through.

I want to wrestle cacti with you until our feet turn orange.

Open door police hoarding all my goddamn grass.

And so it ended as it began, with a shower of blood from a torn vaginal wall.

Imagine my horror when I discovered her new phallus.

Watch out for the trapped doors on the east side of...

I want to throw my life into a wishing well.