excerpt one

he leaned back " shall i change the way you paint? "
she thought, well, talk to me if you want that, don't just fuck me. a dog could fuck me.
but all she said was" maybe ", and wondered where the conversation would go from there. he just shifted his weight from his elbow, " i have to go".
that was a bit of a surprise. " okay"
well, what could she say, no? not yet? kiss me first? don't leave me oh man of my dreams? yes, i'll start a series for you this afternoon?
she rolled onto her side and he pushed a pillow into her stomach in an awkward attempt to comfort her. it was the least he could do after such a invasive manoeuvre as the implied muse question...

from a book not scolded

in the air

it's misty this morning
while i read
there was a fog
the palpable night
this morning carries a residue
that shall burn away .;.

bizarro funny reality check

tm(P)i entries have had to go
too raw
anyway: i still can't believe my ex of 14 years called me asking for a cab...
goofball, indeed

...er

i'm not making. i need to go and paint...
it's so nonthought, non pre-frontal, so faraway...i mean sure, you can consider form, consider colour, consider intent, even to extreme conditions, ( and i like extreme conditions ) to make it bind and cohere, speak without thought. it cuts though the noise...visuals are so noiseless, thank GOD. busy, yes. noisy, no. emote without emo. there but not there. another painter. another person. another chance.
at least *laughs* i can make the paint work
usually.
usually
i am lucky i have that.
truly.

too tired

life is just making me psycho

m
efli
sud
thom
chbt
ridea

it is time

m
eflyflyflyflyflyflyflyflyflywyiflflflyifylifylagogolago
lago:lake (ital.)
grande:lucida likes it big
fly:well why the hell not

these are the flowers

he

said

put them

in

the window

where

they are

beautiful

perils in the ozo

eekarus koft

h

a wing dripdoff

off you go godspeed ta ta hasta nice to see ya don't let the door hit your ass on the way

out

ya malingering flyboy

forge

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melodrome

shoulda been a victorian

i met a man

who liked sheep
a little too much

anomie

i just bit down
and an electric shock went through my head
that said
it's later than summertime all over this town

bill aanya and mary

_________________
war poem 3
_________________


without the head
bill's body leapt forward on a gRACELESS arc, 2 days before his birthday
a full 15 metres was the estimated thrust
landing softly in dust. by a wall
and a shiny glint caught the wind
her name was aanya
and she'd never been to the walmart in boise. aisle 3. on a tuesday
ran the 14 blocks home taking the 2 block shortcut
stopping only once
to vomit
and his wife got the visit. and the 21 gun salute
she never thought of the marital infidelity that had occurred
on the eve of the flight. that day in june.
mary just thought of the walmart
and the 13 dollar watch

a torrent of small rushes

_________________
war poem 2
_________________


bak shot gleened. an event. of note.
thus 2
this too
shall end in tears
like breths taken in
and stoln out
from the webspaces
moist
between the index and middle
graceless but for that
what is undenied
mend the starry i'd
never want to harm or see
like clockward fornication in worms
yet the flood of hands continyu clapping
the day dies pritty in the musty head office
and people join the ranks of the broken winged painters
to bendback time tornchild. walk
while you own limbs. walk
with my soul on quickwater
before u make foolish air crimson in a whiter rhume than this
take mine. walk (cl(over) put seed in
panicked gardens
and remember the scent of your own blood
andmercury mixt
take mine. walk (l(over)
before we shall leave this place. me the
loudes t
lourdes
won't work
goddamned lies of carpentry
fool brother to winter. smite thine hands
take mine. (c(over)wrung tight
around my rape and play a sound intangent
near the black gate open lies an ivory key
and a photo of ink still wet on a page
and a girl crying stop
for a boy noone knows
by his tears or his taste or a look into his pocket

the keen eye of the astute

just noticed today this blog url is spelled funny.
now have no choice but to cross that secret agent
double nought etc potential off the ol' resume...

explains a few things

oh what is this little

toy

what does it do

toy

always wanted the game operation as a kid

but crap, always got fucking bored games...

toss the furry suit

because it's just too hard to clean! hahaha

las bellas bitter tardes

treble tremble clef pulls
the head cradled to one side
on the spare sun concrete
taste my last october sheeted
soft lipped and arched sung
gentle pressure
in the cracked
sternum
far from the madding hush
by the glacial pond dusted
for dear strife put aside
in the hunted
humanity of no clear moment
putting two and two into a box don't
add it up
whisper sweet nothings
like
winter won't hurt our hands

circuitry fritz

whatever seems fucking magic can bite yer ass in the end, glad that music thing is over, feeling bashed up by it all. oh, *laughs*, i enjoyed it though...however now need soundproof room and perhaps a rubber wall or two. oh, and a trampoline? yaaaaaaaaa...