Telling It Like It Is

The meter's running

a little sad today
the hills showed streaks of brown
and even morning's rain
won't stop the fade of green

This Site Under Remodel

Aristotle's Ship
Aristoile's Ship
Arisioile's Ship
Arisioiae's Ship
Arssioiae's Ship
Arssioiae's Ship
Vrssioiae's Ship
Vrssioiae's Saip
Vessioiae's Saip
Vessioiae's Sait
Vessioial's Saip
Vessioial's Saip
Vessigial's Saip
Vessioial's Waip
Vestioial's Waip
Vestioial's Waip
Vestioial's Wait
Vestigial's Wait
Vestigial's Want

hay-na-ku

salt assault basalt
subprime submerged
picketed

doesn't really make sense to use date as a title when Blogger dates everything you write anyways

Do you think I have something to teach you?
how unfortunate
by the end of this line, I'll be gone
white light, yellowed and streaming from the overhead bulb
in the room in which you're reading this
struggling in the arena of the eye
with the light from the screen
demanding that you form the words
"eye" "gone" "bye"

As though I've had something better to do

I've been so absorbed in the money making/not making dilemma that I haven't been writing or reading or whatnot. Time instead spent figuring out my income tax, for example, which I owe lots of because I'm a contract worker.

So gauntlet picked up, I guess.

At this point, I'm so far behind I'll never get ahead, but in the interest of playing catch-up:

scalpel and merry
prankstering I could see
this was not a secret
conditioning for stopped
and left my leaving

absolutely no magic

absolutely no magic
nor alchemy in a cut board
never spanning the gap created by
an impercision of marking
sharper pencils still sharper
distinctions between lines (1/8th 1/16th 1/32nd 1/64th
never rounded corners, nor soft wood
when you allow yourself
only straight and narrow lines

Fell off the wagon- gettin' back on again

Four for today, as installed in the lobby for M. Mara-Ann's performance piece "Containment Scenario":



rare
it's so
arranged as though
arms reached up through



standing
on or
standing up still
staring I stand still

falling
th(r)ough tragic
and on to
prophetic cross town traffic

kneeling
not now
knowing where to
enter where empty knows

April 4th

these men were children once
and these motions, games
jumping stooping shaking panting shoving gritting flaying wiping sheering staking tiring

these fine men- identical to whatever mind says
'jump' ' stoop' 'shake' ' pant' ' shove' ' grit' 'flay' 'wipe' 'sheer' 'stake' 'tire'

looking just like children
and by this I mean powerless
each as doomed as the other, to jump and stoop and shake
just exactly as they once did, grown young in their minds
to behold the idea stretching out as if to grab tall bars

pipes, galvanized steel and corrugated
pushing weight back down to the shoulders now, instead of UP
inside grow down