December 10, 2010

.

I don't know, jack,
I was thinking about in my house.
I don't know if I want a door in the front.
Do you want a door in the front?

December 7, 2010

.

I got a doctor email from my bass teacher.

October 9, 2010

a deer also wrote this statement on a husk

oil prawns
hunch man sitting
monkey style on a
tablechair
electric farm drones and a
girl plays the trumpet
corn mask
mazy german shrimp crabs
dandy shears and a
windmill
stone henge bracelet
moose or a cow in heat
crushed pepper sap

October 7, 2010

Found Deer Diary Husk

ocean waves wave digi
double pedal delay blue double rainbow mixo dot notes rain kitten forms
cast steel berry battery
frets gray dot mole cross gray road gray sky gray cloud at sundrop
blue diamond teeth skull
singing sheep's wool white
wine dingey swamp moon bell nerve mash pass paper yellow jacket metal nest
rag cast street sign chatter stung

November 3, 2009

everything is glass

everything is symbolic
when my teeth are run over
and all currently living owls
have turned to leaves
and back to owls again
24 thousand times
I write only by moonlight
where glass is no longer made from sand
everything is glass
it is breaking backwards and forwards
jar flashed full of snails

August 22, 2009

Dead Things

everything smelled marvelous
in storm's twilight
she knelt to guide the monarch
from her finger to the emotionally excited blossom
"is this butterfly ill or just very tame?"
I asked and she replied
"maybe a bit under the weather"
she slid a squashed snake off of her shoulder
to rest among similarly bladed plant leaves

the seasons are only flavors

when the sky was stacked with pouring clouds
I noticed early
that it would be truly dark
and was slapped with the dread
of chilling loneliness

when the starless night had fully bloomed
the rain had stopped but danced among the leaves
glowworms blinked along the pitch
and I was enchanted

August 21, 2009

no one remembers

is the tap water safe?
no one remembers
the celery squares
hot off the tails
of committing suicide
it fell into my lap
spores drop from the decapitation
coloring the irises
of a paper owl
overnight
the clouds are three dimensional
doctor small
everyone is nervous about you
except you

August 12, 2009

more blueberries

blueberry gun
slow circles
blueberry charcoal
clueberry
a skewered line of blueberries
lightning rising from the center of the globe
blueberry ball point

August 11, 2009

message

lost mile blueberries
...
nothing now
...
will call when do

nature poem

happy greyday
white mystery
and other muted shades
of blueberry

that's where
I brought you chocolate cake
to cheer myself up
you were picking the blueberries
in your blueberry-blue dress
you fell asleep
and dreamt of falling snow

wear crowns or your myth

rice cakes are the new kind of wheel or any kind of diaphragm or dissonance for a projectiongraph

don't try too hard on where to place the hole should go because it may become homely with rickets

likewise knowith
eat them as thusly sparged
the ants nestle in crumbles
and when harvesting wide scallions
bath the sheath
and talk to them about the most dissipating aspects of your beliefs
scrambles with oceanic carrot morphs

melted
I washed my face on a burning salt pile

your neighborhood

the new world will replace the old
tune your armor
don't be afraid
about the metal poles
crosshatched with ladder rungs
that go to the nothing
you are on the ground crew
assisting in the potted plants
with the round bellied man
this is the city of steam and lightning