forces

horses

porous, abnormal,

remorseless.

Osiris and Horus play footsie in the funnel cloud

the skinny part.

Martha Stewart stands in as the Lord's gynecologist,

shaves her bald with a library card.

o lord.

witchcraft

witch-hunting buncha nuts

you stink like one who swallows own shoe

a high-top in the night (piu)

pierced by a blood-soaked floating rib

sauce all on your bib

outside motors humpin' eardrums

rods'n'cones

roses'n'scones

rows of unicorn corpses with:

papal DNA under their eyelids (yes, really! look.)

mythical horses chopped down during intercourse

products of divorces

unicorns in court

cuss for custody

but give up

and die

unicorn orphans

jazzed b/c endorphins

gagged on dorsal fins

playing grab-ass with dolphins.

a merman's bestie

healthy amnesia keeps it all in the yesterdee

powurr

I need to disagree slightly with Patti Smith

people don’t have the power, people are the power.

like:

puppies are cute, puppies don’t have the cuteness.

what if puppies got their cute game together in a united front and wanted to rise up… how does a puppy get its hands on cuteness?

for one thing, puppies aren’t cute to other puppies.

puppies don’t even know what cuteness really means.

once you get hold of some cuteness, what are you supposed to do with it and who would you be doing it to, in a rise-up situation?

i think the only thing is to not be puppies, and then there is no cuteness.

to not be puppies the way we know puppies, to be puppies that aren’t cute. 

because cuteness is not the puppies’ game or realm or concept.

puppies have no cuteness, puppies are cute.

~

when i was a substitute teacher, there was a girl in my class once who was going through a notebook page after page writing her name in big cursive letters and then throwing the pages away. i feel like that notebook!
"do whatever i want" people make me really nervous.
"do whatever i want" people are always looking around for a blank notebook and i am always trying to fall between the desk and the wall.

what i was daydreaming about during the meditation was that

 space has 3 dimensions and they say time is the 4th but that time should get three also. 

'now' is like the single point. a line is made of infinite points, like Buddhist existence is supposed to be many consecutive nows, my professor said it is like cinema, many individual photographs sequenced to feel like real time and motion... that would be the second dimension of time...

and depth... 

then my head got really loud and i put the words away but it was still unpleasantly loud and then i got sleepy, i guess because it was unpleasant, and my vision got blurry and my head was still loud.

then when she was talking about people bringing things to class, hunger for example, i thought that maybe my head is always loud and that is why i have been so tired

so i was thinking that it all piles up, everything i have ever experienced is layered and compressed like prehistoric vegetation is packed into a diamond so that part of now and part of whatever we are calling the line/cinema idea is deep with all the nows and lines that never disappear... reality is hard like a diamond, but a diamond can be cut by an expert.

or, maybe this is still the second dimension of time, the plane

the third would be alternate realities and/or the future

maybe the future because maybe alternate realities would just be a different shape. maybe they look the same like Warhol's soup cans, "that looks like and is me but i am more me than that is."

so the 3rd dimension of time is the future, because it is the same but... or it is different but adjacent, the future cant be floating around apropos of nothing, it has to share a diamond line/border with our two dimensional time plane somewhere...

but then it can be whatever shape 

but all of the shapes have to correspond and form a box, the planes have to close.

is the box hollow?

what is outside the box? someone else's box...

i'm not a physicist, i just play one in this blog.

Blisters

when i focus
on a cop
and it is
time for school
you bet

in a pool there
is not room
for your suit,
burkini,
give me a bellybutton

cruising for more shadow
to the neck of a burning street -
i want more sugar on this flap
of skin i want
more eyeshadow
i want you to walk me
across the room
to the armless chair
so...

talk about how
skin-z-freniac i
can be when
i don't breathe
bloated whale
crushing ankles
who never sin

it probably seems like
i wasn't listening
but i had an ear infection
and you have a terrible voice
to listen to
because it is made of styrofoam
clap them bubbles
bull's balls in bowls

dec15'11

you made a mistake
on the nipple of a silver bullet
you spilled your art
you're soiled
wooden tits clash with the sunset
floating in brine
and decimating the lining in your nose
which you change out of like a sport coat
the girl in your arms
junk
the erect needle fucks your vein
just kidding
someone told you that
you use
but you are just naturally stupid
which has its moments of bliss
and even insight

your shoes are too tiny
and stuck in the groove
but they point
if you could follow
you wouldnt
you fucking human
you'd kill the one who made the shoe
doesnt that make more sense?

obsidian balls
in an aluminum jockstrap
slight rattle and ballet
it is a sight
spinning
gears, toothy
clogged, wordless
a day's newspaper consisting entirely of a repeated letterrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrs
arson

the Sky is a Blue Harlot's Donut

simplistic culottes
Spring is a lady
and a lady with no fear
a lady with no fur
murder
hearts kissing hearts
on the butt-hole
tremors and whooping gadgets

then a surly mantle
then a bit of remorse