Friday, June 5, 2009

"i have the dog"

Word count: 638

words on trial
in front of the council
struck down and deemed dangerous
seen worthless and vile

but honesty handles the greatest of problems
handy in barrels and bushels and bottles
perturbs the psyche, sees overseas brothels
twists dog from man, a man from child

i'd act it didactically

There are piles of paper bound by binders
Piling on the floor
Abe's been having a field day
Mewing at the door

You autonomous liberal
You Big Other
You Freudian father
You Nickelodeonic nostalgia
You supplement
You barrier
You feudal lord
You fiscal responsibility
You performative utterance
You middleman
You light I never knowed
You head-cocking zealot
You accidental occident
You furry blade

There are heaps of paper related components
Accumulating on the floor
Abe has a field day
Mewing at the door

Don’t you know it’s dangerous to
anything-else while you drive?
Finally, a setting in which words kill.
The Phone
The Notebook
The Newspaper
“What part of dead don’t you understand? – Go away.”
To deal with a conundrum – be careful.
As the kitten chases a red dot,
You will hunt down a solution.
An unattainable answer.
And, in doing so, you,
Will have become a

Perplexing, brittle treason furnishes the imperfect human.
The minutest malady can agonize the deities.
The remedy? Ample clemency.

Exhaustion from inspiration
Alive without sensation
Occupy time through my mind’s Eye
Hand is forced into implication
Stand up. Get your eyes off of the ground.
Man up.
It’s a mystery.
A couple hundred bucks and
a dozen free drinks.
I was awake. She, a puzzle.
We were hours away from getting a lay.
The only solution to break out of the bubble –
Put a needle to her skin, her ratings double.
I don’t mean to see only esteem.
Tus ojos son periscopios.
Mis manos son atados.
Miro en las mentas de rubios.
No quiero encontrar tus mamas y papas.
It’s a mystery.
You’ve been fatuously taciturn.
It’s ineluctable.
Luckily, I’m a stoic. Solace.
A dilatory mimic.
Check out the verbiage, it’s a conundrum.
You lose.

Everything that you see
Is always just so green.
Now every where you turn your head,
Imagine all the green is red.

You know God smokes a pack a day,
He says, “I know everything, I know I’ll be okay.”

this fhoto is beautiful. i have the dog

The avenue purrs while I rest, permeating walls, windows.
No, it was Abe.
Remember Africat, Enginecat, Disordercat.
Abe’s much better off.

Brotherly harmonies
Worked well.
I abandoned.
Holy fuck.
What happened?
Chats with strangers
And praise.
The great old days.
Now, a project
New, a studio
A drink
Flying pennies
Just soaring
Absolutely soaring
Someone’s hit

Every good haiku
Must always end the same way.
Boy becomes a man.

There’s some graffiti
On the house across the street
In my neighborhood

Graffiti is art
But this guy had no talent
Don’t need to see that

I bet you’re counting
The syllables on your hand
That’s how I do it



I raindanced and the clouds went away.
I wrote a song for Abe. :rock:
Where’s that damn microphone?

“I do all the drinking,
Let the liquor do the thinking
And the driving.

You are the race that I hate
You are that taste
You fellate
I dive”

We do things because they’re there for us to do
We say things because they’re there for us to say
If you’re not following my logic, maybe you’re the crazy one
If you’re with me kindly color me insane
Do what we expect you to do
Sing how we expect you to sing
If at any time you step out of line
You’ll be socially exiled certainly.
Don’t define the music.
Let the music define you.

No comments: