done thinking

super pyramid
colossal nostril
blowout

tea cup
tea light
hyperventilates

full of holes
feeling the air's acidic qualities
i'm done thinking

Child World

I don't see the glass as half full or half empty,

I see it as a glass that should be filled with chocolate milk.

I see my tiny self floating in the rich milk

I think I know how to swim but

I'm in my Sunday clothes.

Little warm colors.

Look around me, a sinking naptime room.

Look in my little pocket, a book:

"How to make a child world"*

Take the memories
re-embroider them with Relax and Take it Easy.
Find old smells and capture them
Mark the jar Traditional Scents.
Cut the unhappy endings out of cookie dough.
Cut out a pumpkin, cut out a person,
dough is how you cut it (if you don't cut it, no dough).

Gather it up and wash it down with chocolate milk.

Drown it in rich milk.

*look at how the pages curl!

space flight manual

we met before
honestly, awkwardly
hard to read
at the library.

now she's sending me the signal
from like half way across the stacks.

i send my signal, barely audible,
like the sound of one man
yawning at the super bowl.
(is it not enough that the poor guy showed up?)

the books close. i'm at home.
i'm elated and alone

so i'll curl up super tight,

wait for permission to lift off (thanks mom),
and thhrrusssssst into space.

Oscar Wilde is not dead he is drunk
and writing my internal monologue

wind tilts the green hand
the lily loses luster
artificial heat


to conserve or conspire?
awfully fresh bacteria

Starting a dreamcatch
Parting the red seaweed ore
the crows are silent


Servants brace in the middle
hold it, hold it, or collapse

Heavy turtle necks
We strip for horny poachers
Tall grass licks our buns


Plz don't feel emotions, I
lol all day at guns

trot out that pony i hate
i love this weather
Grrls shout behind the stable


"bitch we got quiznos!"
rub it in the pony's nose

Last year we wrote personal messages, folded them into paper planes, and threw them out the window. Only one or two dive-bombed.

otto

otto built a smaller heart right outside of his heart

so that pets could live there.

otto had four pets, one for each letter of his father's name,

which was otto.

each day he prepared the same smelly cars to sell to new smelly people.

they'd speed out, passing to the left of the miniature heart

otto didn't think about cars hitting his pets

otto thought about the moment when his pets would be all standing in a line

like some planets or prostitutes

he would send one bullet careening through. the flesh of each pet would step aside tenderly, ringing
like bars of a xylophone, or some equivalent that was tuned to an eastern scale

it wouldn't sound great to the smelly people 'cause they're not used to non-western music and maybe they would consider asking why otto killed those pets

but they can't really relate to non-western music
and he doesn't really know why he killed those pets

flight 22

i looked closely, like really close at that picture
till it drained away all outside influence

even the cheerleaders chanting

"hey!

i wonder

if you are-

as pretty as you look

online

i'll check one more time"

i realized the background was just a poster of hawaii

missiontent

I AM CURIOUS, HOW YOUR LIFE UNFOLDS

Cloudy Jar

hunching over the pine table sucking in the stench of sap
the roof hugged us like a blanket. and it kept all the secrets in.
(which was good because ever since you got that haircut and your bangs are super short
you've seemed different and i don't want anything to change)

we dumped out a jar of spaghetti sauce*
we filled it with a concoction consisting of

• fancy vinegar
• lime skin shavings
• a blind baby mouse (as a catalyst)
• a drop of blood from each of us

then we shared a stingy cigarette. each one one suck, tasting half like pine sap. we let the smoke ooze out of our faces and into the jar.

we shook the jar, said some ritual stuff. then we looked inside and it said

"you can only trade your problems for different problems"

*fuck africa

The Weight

1. walk around your house and gather up all the objects that make you feel good.
2. have someone place them on top of you, one by one, until you can barely breathe.

Cuss

here, take this picture
it's a self portrait
of a paralyzed cyclops. it was set on a timer.

the day i found that photograph
i walked for what seemed like no reason
i sang an unfamiliar tune (i don't like listening to jazz)
a crow drove up, told me i was flat.
i said "crow if i cared about what every single bird thought"
actually i said "well crows are pretty sharp"
or maybe it was a dove drove up.

anyway, the picture.
i either found it in a used book store
or it was in his wallet.
he chipped his tooth on the ground when
i pushed him over and asked for
everything he had

god revealed himself to me

in an elevator

I figured it out
those ellipsis
were well disguised
breadcrumbs...

bid out, outbid

dept head makes up in the mirror
purges the freezer of butchered meat
turns left when she's talking
laughs at streaming videos
takes notes on streaming videos
gushes to friends concerning the latest streaming videos
bids on a leather case
buys a sick lens
buys a wind screen
buys a battery
cause dept head is gung-ho about video

GIant FLower

giant flower, if you're gonna be so big and gigantic
so bloated like the pink parade axploded
if yr petals are gonna squishh together when i cup you
like i'm cupping sticky sweet chocolate sauce
from ~chocolate sauce river~

then keep it together
'cause while your pattern's rips and cuts inspire even mr lasek's
folded surgical pamphlet
and scare the shit out of the camellia,
when i stare at you from out of arms reach
what marches out but a stringy mosaic of ant bodies
head head, thorax ax ax ax, abdomen men men men men men men men men men

come on, this is a class, how much time do you think i have to do this stupid story?

i can sever my mind from
my wicked posture and
my plum breasts. when i do,
they dangle gracefully.

you fucking kids
think a samba is a languid groan
from an elevator, mostly inaudible
over the raps and slaps of
you kids fucking

when you grow up
have three wailing white children
plastic siding a block away from the local airport
and a grimy dive for squawking birds
it would be a fucking honor
if anyone called you an easy listening classic.

2 much love

my boyfriend is dying from 2 much love.
this affects me deeply.
my friends keep telling me
that this is maybe my fault.
that is super not helpful... and as such,
i'm now only looking for 'yahoo' answers.

death poems

time-consuming matching of fragments,
careful repair of skulls and long bones,
and minute study of all small fragments
has allowed extraction of far more information
than seemed possible at first.

my b

my brain is an exclusive club that i'm not invited to

i have a heart the size of a human heart

kid 2

you called me insincere

i'd say i'm making progress

two cats in the rear view mirror

they said to keep all secrets

kid a little

luckily i'm no longer shy
i can talk to groups of nearly four or five men

now that i'm not living alone
i can take it easy when I hear the phone ring

when i pull down the shade the sun is gone and i'm relaxed again
but in the lack of light i overhear the lonely thoughts of friends

kid

never here, never there, psychic detour
spending all her days
with little attention but to read the signs

switch brush

Flickering red candle lightbulbs draw you down the quarter hallway (accented by exit signs). You hear music in a mysterious key, and scraping the air like butter on toast. You read "ANCIENT EGYPT" in heiroglyphicized english. Perched beside it is a quote from a famous writer, spitting colours out like "sanguine" and "papyrus". You cross the threshold into the exhibit. Beyond, a scene of quaint wonder - a psuedomassive unfinished pyramid etched with characters spills shadow across the floor. A still scarved museum guest steps out of the light to reveal the dusky mannequins of slaves pulling a large slab of rock. You wince. Timidly, you inch closer to the slaves to inspect their scraggly beards.
You begin to feel them. "That's enough" uncle A. brushes away your hand. "I've got to keep working." His face strains as he lifts up a tiny brush to wipe some dirt on the disembodied hands. "This is part of our heritage." The fireplace whimpers. You ask "So these will be the guys who made the crown jewels?"
"Well, they cleaned, preserved, and protected them." puffs A, not looking away. You sigh and look away to the corner. Two heads stare past you. "Why do they look like John Lennon and Paul McCartney?" you ask, mouth curving a little. Uncle A glances over and grins "I can make them look however I want! The curator doesn't look at them 'till after they're installed!!"

pirate insertion

he never hit the water
when he stole their shiny pay,
    hideous insidious walked the plank,
    cursed the sailors, lost his rank
'cause he gave it to his daughter
so she'd never run away

buoy

one hundred fifty metres from ashore,
some plumes of pale green ghosts approach the cliffs
singing:
"we are the brave who gave our lives for myth"

their burden is self awareness.
my burden is waving on the passers... and my chain
confirms this steadfast township...

if i'm meant to stay afloat, then so are you.

living room

pour the truth
in a crystal goblet
of grape juice.

sing in tune
with your family in the
other room.

barkin' up the wrong tree mister,

spying on your naked sister

claiming that your father started
sweeping things under the carpet.

Guide to Grasp

CONTENTS:

I Eat A Cemetary to Increase Nationalism

II Lose A Joust & Shatter Your Tongue

III Gold Plate Yourself To Grab More Business Lunches

FWD:

What you said I can't remember completely, my head was spinning, and it felt like hunger was mmm stretching my stomach.. but while I was in there, they were handing out tote bags.. so I got you one.

PART I - HETEROGENEOUS BODIES

When she goes to class, she notices that the other kids sometimes don't hand in their homework. Maybe their parents are gone, like they died in a plane crash or a skiing accident. That would explain the dark green bags under their eyes, their unwillingness to help themselves. Nevertheless she never inquires, only continues to uphold her american citizenship by attending bible club. She sees the other kids pass around dark green bags behind the water fountain.

PART II TO BE MANUFACTURED

To be manufactured is to be prolific. But your little springs, those were downsized last week, for efficiency.

PART III GILDED YOLKS

My outfit works on so many levels. It suggests a modest genius that can only be discussed over quiche lorraine. I saw some other well dressed consultants in the second floor break room. They would notice that my bag straps match my shoe buckles. Later on they'd mention my mature scent so that we don't have to keep talking about microsoft office.

you're looking for wind

i'm doing a bravery
as a favor for destitute

i'll give them a nothing
instead of a parachute

with riches they wisdom
an orphan from father

and record it on video
so why even bother??

smiling edges

"if the knife can leave the table

then i'll know it's good and able

if the knife is meant to kill
then i'll let it have its will"

chants from old friends
should be documented for safety

blaaastttt

dark black hair
posthumous.
demonous legacy
infinite skipping stone,
to earthward tendency
raise my son right
quietly sandblast him
when swear words come out
make him leave the room godammit

downward

no matter what your body language suggests,

boring for a new affiliate,

or pre-wedding rest

the world implores you to get a haircut.

and really...what is humanity if it isn't one big body

stealing

"it's my word or the blackbird's!"
he pointed to a tree
and scoffed an ultimatum to the heathen mutts
and shadows too stubborn to be his silhouette

flakes of his dead skin rest on the window sill.

the head of the museum watches,

waits for y'all to learn some lessons

from his carefully designed corridors.

his labrador quit smoking,

turned over a leaf,

and took a paid vacation

from barking indiscriminately.

secretaries extol the virtues of

teamwork, mission statements, office birthdays

and how the worst place to park a convertible

is under a tree.

where they come from,

a man is entitled to one act
in a cabaret

or on the caustic territory god founded by fertilizing an egg.

ink

woke up
feet alien
hair leans over
lending itself to patterns

waiting
hush breath
smooth shaft
drawing zoo animals

the search for depth
is insincere
as we dig deeper
we equate light
with word counts
and darkness
with tatoo parlors

oral fortitude

careless
oscillating hips.
excellent curvature,
outstanding risk.

stay in,
do the rapscallion
cutting repeatedly.

artichoke mudslides,
the way you pronounce 'pico de gallo'
confirms
my intentions are a capon.

monuments are lonely

eyelids fixed
reluctant pool covers
harassed by the meekest dads
and sons who just wanna play

i wrote for years.
collected all the bad habits.
cast myself in bronze.
and after all that, i realized
the whole time
i was untouchable

Manmouth Mountain

not everyone can capture nature so succinctly as a taxidermist
that bear is four hundred US dollars
& she roars quietly (like a paper telephone)

nap a while in a green rockin' chair
if you dream of endless forest
then you need to buy this bear

kick it

i'm vain
but i'm all about self improvement
there's two kinds of people.

when i drive
the bridge of my nose is sweaty
a small price to pay for looking good.
this good

these shades absolve me

from the guilt of reality

passed out

two fingers to check the pulse
ten to check the wallet
clammy hands,
pull 'n peel shrimp,
go to the hospital

reorder

when it got quiet I could hear the tick of my watch
which just indicated that my left hand was too close to my face.

I walked around the neighborhood.
small black flies orbited my head
persistent and too close to see clearly.
they often crash landed.

and that reminded me
you bought me a statue of two little lost angels.
did you like the look?
or maybe that's how you felt?

In the back

Your blade drips blood,

but your stance opens.

I see it.

This fight ain't fierce.

I parry, you laugh.


Your knees rest but then your knees buckle.

We all don't mind.

Russh

Super-concentrated, ill-fit.
Wed for the purpose of elevating
meaning.

Chosen sun staff,
bellowingly bestowed
on a set of tiny glass.

If the creator is unknown,
attribute it to some smog-free island
for convenience.

Remember forgetting time?
Remember being so nervous we forgot time?
Remember waves?

Water

Response: Charles is our driver. What emotional state is the back of the bus?

Keep in mind it's bright as day, fortune could be on the horizon, and three of us know CPR.

Reaction: In the backseat, we're anxious.. to go where it's taking us, deepsea fishing. Underwater, undercover fish spies. Catch them in your hands, then let them go.

Response: We introduce a new species to the ocean, ourselves, slightest care for soaking footprints. Fish go free with more than our slipperytouch. How does the sea fare?

Keep in mind the moon is half hidden, the tides are pulled, and all this light is reflected from the sun.

Who Are You Parts I & II

Part I.

Response: A tepid water breather, a louse, a banana with a chocolate frown, a question with an answer, a crap tower, a bean garden, a salty unicurl cowlick

Reaction: The frigid fire fighter, my spouse, a toucan with a toothy grin, a disquieted samba dancer, a sea shower, a dean martin, an awful monotone guest-list.

Part II.

Response: A furnace with a missing door, gorgonzola with snakes, lurid shorts, making world safe for the fortune 500, Americans with tank-tops in three colors, Pablo, an insane set-list, squatters and 40ozs

Reaction: Dropping ink on charred papers, dropping in on sick half-pipes, wise marketing, a sage guitar trio, a frankincense girl, two for one faces, an auto tuned monologue, donations from actors

dried wild flowers in blank journal pages, this feeling I'm feeling is one for the ages!!

barnacles: on the rocks

Keep all abstract thought to a MAXIMUM

Keep It Clean, Brothers

tulips an' everything:
laugh ritous, sincerely
sprawlin' out sea foam grass
cultured folks here he
lies among volumes wet
soggy smells solemnly
destitute oathkeeper
cultural wannabe

his posse laugh riotous
they're thick and they show it
occlude his absorbin'
with brash baby shale bits
found a note secretly
underground fury, wit
long list of thugs and a
famous dead poet

goin' tote to tote with heavy weights

Match Work

He hands it off to read
(is different read aloud)
his frame is now around
his lover, she concedes:

Imagined Malcontent of Future Conversations is
for all intents and purposes
the biggest waste of ink (ever)
and just what made you think (I was so ignorant)

I wouldn't be offended.. or
this thing with us, uh, rended and
just left with little bits
of pre-recycled chips
I'm not taking them to the center, you know!!

repeat

just hold on
i'm writing a mental page
all about this moment [infinite]

if i...
get my cycles right
i can subdivide my time into living
and autobiography

when you fold a bandana and the corners don't match up

when you take the pit from an avocado and it leaves a perfect sphere hole

when you sit down in the most obscure bathroom and someone else immediately walks in

Cries ashes washes
heartless brigade.
Obscure haste?
Watch World War One
weather

Advance rare
sunshine perimeter.
Velocity fox? Shake
 standard stalk
harem suitor

Believe nose retail
vex permanent?
Train thosel adhere
indigo violets
television

Feminine dub spark
heel collective. Reel
rationalism? Trust
habit, die charming.

Wasteland still land
share equal avaiso.
Winter wars? Sit
circles dialect
garden

Blank forever ono
verge tepid?
Hallucinate
funfound
fairweather re-
record has.

Abdomen negotiate
fiber hosts. Crack
filament dolpau?
Heat horus yellow
extended

LG mobile phone template text messages

1. Please call me back
2. I'm late. I will be there at
3. Where are you now?
4. I'm on the way
5. Urgent! Please contact.
6. I love you

Decay regenr-
persuade six pyros.
Last lapiz? scrap
politics, curse
progress cold

virgins

the "virgins" poems were written on an LG mobile phone via txt message. they were co-written by the t9 auto-completion algorithm, who decided on which words to use. each poem begins with a question and ends with an improvised answer.

Plasma get high
broken continue?
Scale/separate
global eye explode
plasma.

Rhetoric safe
buddha belearc?
Nigh health volta
excess excerpts
cultivate hero

drinking makes a ghost of me

reduce the sentence to
for   lonely month
um, please.. it's just
if punishment is made to fit the crime
i'll beat the glass in time 'till makes unclear
the value that i gain for every year

piece for bankers

make a credit card perfectly shaped for unlocking doors

which one

My greatest weakness is rhetoric
Rhetoric is my greatest weakness

in the words of robert frost
Writing free verse is like playing tennis with the net down

let biceps drip sweat holding up a camera phone

What do I sacrifice when I'm engaged in this idea that I'm purposesly creating a memory? When I say to myself this is a good thing, let it happen, let it go a little farther, a little too far: that's what makes memories. Well I have good memories, but they're stained with the knowledge that I intentionally recorded them. That at times I had to fake it to make it#
What's it like to be certain with your behavior?

make a rainbow coloured broom

to glorify sweeping

club music technique

make it sound like you're outside of a club

visualize your time on earth

• a pile of all the food you've ever eaten
• the number of rings in your trunk
• heatmaps

Wears black just to control something
Overture absorbs resin like
Overshirt absorbs red sun like
        starting class with I can't get this mic working so I'll have to SHOUT
Wall absorbs useless potential energy

piece for friends

1. ask friends to collaborate on a few drawings or paintings
2. use hydrochloric acid to burn the parts they worked on
3. present in gallery

what if the friends:
were actually not friends?
were famous artists?
were not artists?

I heard my english teacher slept in the classroom a few times
We commiserated nonverbally

you hide from me

You hide behind your symmetry.. you hide.. behind... symmetry.. two opposite sides.. being mirror images.. that is the definition of symmetry. Perfection of proportion - Where are we going with this? We're even. No it's not over! Now it's over!

You hide from me behind your golden ratio

2007

moero san

this cat is no joke! they call him the cursed hermit..
wrote this poem when he came out:

spent years spelunking
paralyzed with empathy
drippin' hope stalactites

You Found: a minor key
[unrelated to your family tree]

egypt

you have pyramids that are slowly destroyed by the sun
a. leave the pyramids to nature, enjoy their magnificence, mortality
b. erect a canopy to preserve them, provide shade for visitors, profit

thoughts on relationship

to do:
start a practice of painful honesty with people you care for

ground rules:
you're allowed to like a lot of people at the same time
everyone has multiple soulmates
if you care anything about love don't see the movie Paper Heart

1. be free of expectiations
alternative: want it to be like a movie (and will fake it as necessary)
2. forego formality
this requires an agreement* that if we find something better, we will pursue it. the agreement affirms that we change all the time, sometimes not being in a relationship is better. then 'breaking up' is not a personal attack because it is impermanent, its another part of a relationship ->

actually we don't need to break up. A formal [and binary] monogamous relationship provides the illusion of security [we are averse to loss]. Complacency makes losing something terribly difficult. We can replace the illusion of security with the illusion that we are free to pursue a situation that better suits us. Substituting security with possibility removes the need to be in a formal relationship.
[formality may have been the problem]

next section: issues in spoken vs. unspoken
*the agreement is actually formal, and should be spoken

all the great people are bipolar

ludwig van beethoven, winston churchill, mark twain, fucking teddy roosevelt, sylvia plath, brian jones, buzz aldrin, vincent van gogh, jean-claude van damme

the depths of hell are the most serene studios
all the world in its wonder/horror

things to do

• make questionable greeting cards and plant them in store shelves
• walk an invisible dog and take it too far ( apologize for poop on people's shoes )
• make a love potion
• hire a stranger to listen to your problems
• commit crime in pajamas to be comfy in jail
• when you greet someone, tell them exactly how long you expect to talk to them
• compliment yourself while complimenting others
• cut films right before their resolution, quit job as a projectionist
• make life like a movie
  

y'all are small fries in a super size

bike

that's what our friendship was built on
this youth is not a foreign object
I saw your footprints on the lawn
twelve common people can't be wrong

I Slept
until there was
 no more sun

there are some problems that you can never solve

YOU: I think I'm good at this
EVERYONE: You're mediocre at this

YOU: I'm a hack when it comes to this

EVERYONE: You're awesome at this

YOU: Am I good at this?

EVERYONE: ......

YOU: This is bad

EVERYONE: Well, yeah a little

YOU: This is bad, right?

EVERYONE: Well, I like it

it

you got to have good taste
you got to know form vs. function
you got to ___________

I have joined the living again. I can now look at the words I wrote and think "hum."

(ring)
You found [removed] !

shop

the chimney smoke from the shop is moving against the wind
it's easy enough to fix prices, but what about physics?

[image removed]

does anyone remember when we played this:
[image removed]

here's the scenario

i'm retired
in the woods
breeding foxes

pop

pop

if I look at anyone's public journal thing the first thing I look for is if they mention of me and I feel pretty selfish.. but I mean how good is to know that someone is thinking about you?

the ravens! it's the ravens!