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Once upon a time I kept a journal of brief mindblurbs. Random
brain noise bits I tried to wipe out onto the keyboard at least once a
day. Usually they were one sentence long, but if I felt particularly
feisty, I'd blort out as much as I could muster.
This is the page of old blurbs (before 2001) You can see the oldest
of the old mindblurbs (before rudimentary HTML conversion, and subsequent
timeline flip-flop) at the bottom of this page. The newer mindblurbs -- after
01.01 -- are available as well.
Here's to random mind excretion!
12.30.00
sleep is dreamenvy
12.26.00
sleeve stabbing -- someone cuffed me
button bludgeoned...
12.23.00
zero yellow entropy
12.21.00
my slipgrade mindframe mounts demonlust speedseed wheelies
12.18.00
speed is a car's libido
12.17.00
stuffed chicken head, my nasal drip
12.13.00
tangy tart 'n WYSIWYG fun!
12.12.00
a day of desperate incendiary dream-wakings
a deplorable indecision
a friend no longer included
12.9.00
a display of disillusionment
12.7.00
a sometimes grin; lopsided think
12.6.00
bent-over-nova
squeezing into infinity
12.1.00
a sagging disposition; melting civilization
11.30.00
melting insomnia
11.23.00
sneeze in a handbag
11.20.00
ballast is jettisoned; oh yes!
11.17.00
love is a blink in blindness
11.14.00
folded into nature's handjob,
jerked around by irresistible forces,
I quit the present for a dream glimpse of you.
11.10.00
we wrap ourselves around relationship realities
11.7.00
sailing away in an imaginary space ship built for two
11.7.00
sleeping in cyberspace
11.6.00
bones frail as birds
11.3.00
dope young daybreak
black sky jumps dizzy
stars fuck just like us
cosmic insecurities gravitate
toward black hole relationships
resulting in darkness
so much love is daylight
lost in a blue sky
11.1.00
empty yawning morning
10.31.00
moving west in circles
driving in a rain of leaves
eating orchard apples from trees
a smooth pumpkin pie
--dreams of imagined october
a wholesome wistful sadness
a wrenching heartbreak
open heart surgery with tweezers
kissing drunk girls at parties
--october memories in platinum
10.30.00
This morning on the bus, reading Rilke's _Letters to a young poet_, I was
struck impossibly by the beauty of a young mother. Our eyes tangled, and I
imagined futures with her and her seemingly intelligent toddler. (She spoke
to the baby without baby talk.)
Upon leaving the bus, the baby said goodbye. I felt as if I'd lost something
in a vast vortex of morning. I should have tried to speak to her--this amazing
mother. Normally a child is enough to turn my every lust to thoughts of
diapers and christianity's choke hold on our social structure, but somehow
this child only increased my curiosity about its mother.
Perhaps she only looked at me with such frequency because I sat directly in
front of her, or perhaps it was merely my interest in her curious child.
Regardless, the moment is lost, and I feel lost. Rilke says young people
are incapable of love. I think, perhaps for myself, I am bombarded by it.
Love pummels me until I am an unrecognizable bruise of loneliness.
10.25.00
wizened rasbery ripe pulpy seeded stuck-in-your-teeth sweet
10.14.00
whatever spurns your spanky
10.11.00
punk rock sasquatch rot
10.9.00
whorlwind brainblather busted
cut-jack free-loaded cold
10.8.00
windowutside sweeps leaves from branches into the street
10.6.00
feeding off bottomfeeders bottom feeding
10.3.00
wasping patiently for the wax to dry
9.25.00
fastidious attachments or appendages attacking self
9.7.00
wipeout on night's inception
9.3.00
a sleep glop eye-gunk'd weekend
8.31.00
thirty ton space-suited gorilla
8.18.00
space tongue chewings
8.16.00
squat strut satisfied
8.15.00
drifting in the dull upper atmosphere of my bedroom
8.14.00
white cotton brain fuzzies
8.11.00
victims of mundanity
7.25.00
business card madness, fancy flying factory focus
7.24.00
winding the heart ribbon
7.21.00
Ever have those days where it feels like you're stuck inside your own body, looking
out from a foreign perspective? I imagine this is what it feels like being one of
those children forced to live in a bubble. Lately, I have felt this way even from my
computer. I am stuck inside the confines of my monitor, looking out into the internet,
into servers, into an amorphous void that is reality. Everything is seen as if from
far away.
With this feeling comes a certain lack of responsibility. Disassociation from
everything, including responsibility, including individuals, including myself.
7.2.00
text is so appealing
slivers of words, sexy meanings
6.26.00
ten days a dream surrenders
6.16.00
slime yourself, slim down, slave maybe, sliver saddle, sit
6.14.00
we are all crawling through this great intestine of a universe...
6.6.00
dramatics, dreamatics, dromedary
6.4.00
water'd dawn pr0n
6.2.00
click-laden icon-heavy desktops slide slowly off the monitor
5.31.00
scent laden socks sweaty slime
5.30.00
white sausage in a steaming pot: rotting flesh or zombie skin
5.29.00
dining on vampire's blood
5.25.00
wet eyes close quietly whimpering slowly in sleep
5.24.00
Follow the yellow brick node!
5.22.00
weird mastication funkitron
5.21.00
french fry moments, greasy and salty
5.18.00
instinct sparks urge brings action belies instinct
5.15.00
get yourself senseless
5.14.00
wasting away on wooden loaves of bread
stomach insides itself outside
5.11.00
distinct in my pale self, pale words, pale life
5.9.00
seeing spots on the sun can cause blindness
Chick flicks are for "chicks" because "chicks" are always hitched.
5.5.00
when waiting, minds fluctuate
4.27.00
spring lifts the edge of the curtain and numbs the winter.
4.24.00
we agrivate ourselves, our fingers, our minds, our tongues
all weep in spirit
4.19.00
structures emerge from erosion
4.5.00
great swinging pendulums are the planets and poles of the earth
tethered to suns and stars
4.2.00
white winter's rain draws dandruff jokes
3.24.00
black writhing tentacles speaking in slippery tongues
3.21.00
black hands in soot silk
chimney sweep clean
slithering dirt snake
mud ugly urchin of underworld
worm, you wow me.
3.19.00
madly madly, I love you plain
3.17.00
my brain is set in gold jello
3.11.00
slithering sprites and animations with pixel excretions
3.9.00
pens and party favors
2.29.00
we're launching a masquerade of madness
2.26.00
snow, fickle in the sun
2.25.00
grinning madly, making faces at the moon
2.23.00
we have sticky hearts
our brains form complex webs
connect us to those we care for
we need a peanut butter for lust
2.22.00
divine scratches and biting
nails on skin sacrilege
2.20.00
wild jack rabbit running, gorilla shoulders, mental hemorrhage
2.19.00
some dreams are like chocolate pudding
2.16.00
gothic amphibian entropy explorer
2.15.00
With every keystroke, I am a virus. I spread my seed in digital wildflowers,
blossoms of crystal matrix and checkered perforations in twisted wires.
My love is seeing tendrils of often saturated glaze spread like fancy
glass on a hot street. Glass melts easy, and my mind does the same.
Still, one can wonder at the speed with which something spreads, the
electrons move freely across the way. Electrons move freely across the
body. I sing the body electron. I sing the body. Bodies are meant to be sung.
I get caught up in the not-me-ness of storytelling. My stories are my own,
and fiction is not a story that is mine. I can't complete a thought that
isn't mine, even if it is mine!
We exaggerate the emphasis of certain phrases. Certain questions become
exclamations.
2.14.00
aught red wings to fly
2.12.00
keys are weird things,
jagged metal edges meant to open something
you'd think they were for slashing or cutting
until you discover their size
betraying them as knives in another way
keys are knives for killing doors
knives for treasure chests and PO Boxes
knives specific to their purpose
or maybe knives are just keys
without the speciality
2.10.00
god saved the queen. Enough already.
2.8.00
thoughts fire from a cannon
big like dynamite
a muse finds me at the club
2.7.00
suffering from desperate delicate breakings
hearts made of china or
glass thumbs in green eyes
2.5.00
wild kernels of kindling
2.4.00
how do you think faster?
2.2.00
time saved is time that could have been spent playing tribes
2.1.00
friday liverwax earmuffs
dive drink-bomb bangup base-busters
1.27.00
velcro suited messenger of the 80s
night rider sunglasses style
hot wheel kickin' it
1.26.00
outside--sweet sunlight
inside--a white trail across my desk
1.25.00
both barrels blazing
eyes piercing needles
1.21.00
there needs to be a dr. suess for adults:
good fuck, bad fuck
happy fuck, sad fuck.
1.19.00
fist grips
pistol whipped
lip split
pimp shit
1.17.00
byte sized dream packets
digital conveyances of desire
systems streaming ongoing appreciation
constant ping on heart-port:80
a make-believe binary nirvana
almost viral infection
defragment me, I'm scattered
system halt...love
1.14.00
can I reduce me to 0s and 1s?
is this all I am?
for you, yes. This is all I am.
read me in ascii,
store me in your memory.
1.13.00
a dark brooding about syntax and definitions
1.12.00
brainworms dig swiss cheese holes in memory.
I've lost life's lust somewhere--forgotten where--
and it's unbridled boredom from here on in
1.7.00
library of unreality submission information:
message resource link credit site
feature article list
contest arena update
1.6.00
nature of magic
1.5.00
core dumped like floppy drive failure
neural net overload?
1.4.00
All the babies born this year will not realize they get to start from scratch.
Thomas Jefferson said to revise the constitution every 25 years.
My fingers curl around the keyboard like the tentacles of octopi,
stuck there with the force of their own suction.
My eyes ring my head, and I see into the future, the past,
but the present is obscured.
1.2.00
perhaps our lives are tailor made for transition, for change.
holdover from nomadic times
mood swings are mind-seasons
we migrate into depressions
build houses made of happiness
that we abandon come fall
1.1.00
no this page is not y2k compliant
12.29.99
relative conformity breeds despondency
12.28.99
god lives on radio highs
gets feet wet with solar drippings
--molten lov'a--
god is gif
god is jopy
12.27.99
words on eyes:
pain glare sharp glints
12.22.99
a sword of sorts are smiles
asymmetric and assimilating
glances asking or asserting
faces masking or revealing
lips studied are lips loved
laughing at tongues' slippery sensation,
sidling, surfacing, swimming
lips the labor of our adoration
12.21.99
is infinity just a number?
what do tactile touches taste like?
do storms sigh like avalanches do at gods?
12.20.99
Slick like icicles hanging,
vine-like visions of invisibility
vane on their overhanging perch.
12.18.99
drunk with cold
outside wobbles
brain a frozen bit
12.12.99
gone are dovetail lovers
wrapped in silk ribbon
their eyes have sunken in
their bones are surfacing
their baggy bodies drift alone
amoebas in a social film of rotting water
12.11.99
dusted morning breath of dew
frozen microscopic figurines in frost
the morning's cough
the morning's snot
morning gets sick too
12.10.99
numb crosseyed gonzos
12.9.99
midnight black in my wrists
hard on the table
turned up to the keyboard
flippant fingers quiver words
12.8.99
trees of data
grip my brain with root
I'm getting sysop-soft
head swimming with hostnames
a social datablip
12.7.99
explaining the infinite:
stretching hardshell plastic minds
around universes and mobius strips
get it wet or get it warm
our brains expand painfully
there is always danger of meltdown
or disintegration.
12.6.99
wilted rotting pedals
scent of death
12.3.99
eyes on hyperblur
11.30.99
wish I never got tired. time isn't enough.
too many things to do, too many interests.
The dictionary says: warble flies live under the skin of animals;
they get in through your tongue
(when you lick your ankles because the fly has laid its eggs there).
OK, so it's mostly cattle,
but we could have used human skin for leather--
little painful warbles in the middle of a tan.
One might warple if you had a warble.
11.22.99
once a misused, now a misshapen
11.21.99
missile sodomy ballistic baby yeah
11.14.99
writing sucks, I fuck'n breathe and the earth produces better slop than my shit
I'm gonna hack an slash till my fingers bleed ink
I've got a 3140 page dictionary, but I can't write one poem I like.
11.11.99
lucky day break
10.30.99
butting our heads up against wall sized dreams
10.26.99
Nobody thinks their life is interesting--except maybe artists.
We all live plain lives.
10.25.99
days zoom by in zero mode
I don't see except through the narrow red cone of this moment
10.24.99
Newspaper writing is less about writing more, and more about writing less.
10.23.99
Imagine shark tooth eyes
and jaguar lips;
my dreams are taking surreal cerebral forms
and bending blindly to my bare emotional deprivation.
10.21.99
She's got active desktop eyes,
a body that runs like the new AMD chip, overclocked.
She's like a million megs of ram in a billion megahertz bus.
Her frame rates are phenomenal.
10.20.99
family friendships...
why does forced exposure foster emotional closeness?
10.19.99
indiscriminate line noise
mingling with night scrawls
night scowls.
10.18.99
dealt with indiscriminately
10.15.99
washing west winds off my brain...
10.13.99
shapes of a stinted sun
saturation of reality
soaked in intangible
10.11.99
red radio lines--sky high
giant tree LEDs
mind behind a red eye
10.10.99
we're split head nails
10.8.99
rave ride riddled ripe afternoon
10.7.99
widening gaps in apathy divert sympathy revert despondency
10.5.99
desolation road? desolation deathstar.
10.4.99
without exception sitting
hunched shoulders fingers flitting
keyboard crunching eyeballs bleeding
mind exploding close to dozing
user
10.1.99
individual seconds counted in drops per square inch
rain to the mathematician
drizzle in numbers
no blur--every blink clear as a galaxy
this is how my heart pounds
9.28.9
I'm no good swiveling eyes in sockets...
9.27.99
blindwalking behind half-slit eyes
afraid of a moon
trying to stay on the sidewalk
tripping on the curb between blocks
counting steps between eyelid snapshots
jump when the dog's bark makes steam
lengthened strides
slide into my sidewalk, my porch
eyelids continue walking...sleep
9.25.99
a million email march
on the servers of our capital
9.24.99
the clock festers swimmingly
tired hands run streetwhere
numbers give arrows the eye
you can always tell when I'm up too late
9.22.99
perverse flat expanse of individual
I am increasingly disgusted with myself
squat squish of stomach
9.21.99
universe in bitstream bubbling over
9.17.99
glinting pixel lit teeth grin digital
a mechanistic moon gets jumped
I glide a dreamland dynamic
going gorgeous into the electric ether
9.14.99
sweating on a cold morning ought to be impossible
9.13.99
our minds crumble at terrible velocities
With every pop song added to my RAM, I feel deprived of another word in
another language.
9.10.99
Trickling paper marks--pen on weird words--sniffling syphilis ink snails
across paper leaving slimy images of snot like secretions.
We want to see and hear and rupture like gross watermelons exploding in
fields of dirty wheat.
9.4.99
driving is poetry of perception
objects at varying velocities
pass perfectly in steady parabolic increase
speeds subject to sustained inertia rising
horizon hooked threads
become raging rivers
toothpicks become tornado sized towers
only the sun retreats
steady as the clock's center
8.30.99
carts of brimstone flaming
flamesword dazzled kings
midnight swallowing
illusionary reality
8.27.99
slinging data like the pony express
8.25.99
a welling of zen-jedi-BS in my fingers
bit-shit buzzing between my keyboard and my claws
hunched back in my office chair, eyes squeezed dark
work escapes and terrible poetry creeps in
8.24.99
sitting in underwear
waltzing the wires
8.19.99
In the collective reaming that is our existence, some assholes fare better than others.
8.16.99
night storms day
river shivering wet globules line sinksides
electrocrackling skies bind to dirt
showers in storm -- lights flicker
darkwater reflects black bulbs
sky is in every raindrop -- from below
reverse retroflections capture pupils until
drops divide light
8.15.99
blurbglory begets blind wordslides
I apostrophized into a state of mental bouquet
8.9.99
glory of awakening:
stubbled eyes, crusted face
pain in brain, throbbing neck.
8.8.99
I'm not the type of person who pays attention to whether their socks are
inside out or not.
8.6.99
shame shame, pale tree, swaying in lust's wind
8.5.99
frequent body stops
fucking in datashops
brain expanding yellowords
--word expanding brainblorts--
taking advantage of chatflirts
giving binaryhead
the word-undead
asciizombie deadbeat trips
far flung relationblips
hinging on powerstrips
fucking digital
* * *
Shoo π, don't bother me.
8.3.99
groping at binary darkness
8.2.99
sleeping to police siren song
8.1.99
hugging nausea
7.26.99
canadian border bounced
became one with falls
rainbow spotlights
2 story frankenstein
7.22.99
travel trundles spindles and springs
loop-de-loops linger
mind expands exponentially at point zero, black under fingernails, blemishes
mind doesn't capture, glinting in a sun, white hot afternoon summer blacktop
sweat in the air gorgeous day---makes me squint, going blind in binary, going
digital in Yamaha diode eyes, making bitwise visits to the ascii asylum,
slugging through 14.4 mirrors and backend site alleys, sighting sinking eye
sockets, eyesore pages, gouging jpegs, and piercing gifs, glancing blows off
rapidly expanding online novas...
7.21.99
when trundling through datajungles, never forget your trusty crowbar
7.20.99
marked blurblings mangling moss ridden trees
turnip trodden tubes of telepathy
7.15.99
going gotcha bonkers on seaside, starside's tides up, waiting for the julyflower
7.14.99
Sasquatch superman
hair under spandex from Krypton
rants and raves of outrageous misfortune
reading and breathing like holes in ozone
my how time's flown
the cock's crown
her words are sewn
and unbelieving, self deceiving, depraving, depleting, unseeing, unfeeling,
I grasp desperately at the unknown
Her words random as Jitterbug Perfume
feeling like Robins, or Borges, or Noon
feeding my inside geekgoon
on random and plastic spoons
on tin pan pies and DDT resistant flies and...
word souflés... I shouldn't have compared myself to Borges.
Back and forth the violin bows,
kneading my brain into bread and cookie doughs
brain cutter cutouts of elephants and mosquitoes,
ice flows,
I'm teeter totter for her
not leper skin uncertain,
more like zippers--two sides to lock together
teeth of my brain all neurons firing for her
sure, and there is a long distance separating the halves of my brain
long walk to pull this metal thing
long steps and long wheels turning
long, lonely, sing.
7.13.99
mind mulching manages to mingle with dead worms
find your own mind
7.12.99
long loverly lips licking night's last rights
shooting star lights shimmer invisisimple
lingering in imagination's lit lamps
a lazy brain sort of way
7/24/96
The end of the night is a desolate time, when vultures roam whimsical.
7/26/96
Sadness is short to nothing, singled out is something, strings are sometimes sentimental.
7/27/96
Distortion singing down, lofty towers molting, melting, mourning.
7/29/96
Niceties define a fragile reality. I should actually say "the fragile reality," because there is
really no other kind.
7/31/96
Exhaust feeding the air, a carbon romance in the exchange of fuel and fume.
8/1/96
notes on atoms and silver penny whistle strings, I can play the universe, for a sucker, or
just for fun.
8/2/96
Gone are the days of heavy sighs and pats on backs and sympathy, now comes the
solitary, express ride to singing alone in a choir of one.
8/2/96
Sim singing, the orchestra is churning out symbols and meaning. I am churning out butter.
8/5/96
A grim surging: the electricity built up in her hands is amazing, phenomenal. I've never
seen anything quite so shocking.
8/5/96
A spark of anything seems to make so much more sense than a dull light of any kind, even
if the dull light burns brighter and for longer.
8/6/96
A grim spectrum in the clutches of madness: I see the whole come clear in images of
chaos and possibility. A picture's corner is worth nothing without the rest of it's canvas,
and yet that corner can be dazzling and startling, rewarding and unbelievable.
8/11/96
waxing fruitful, but I can't multiply
8/12/96
What seethings the sea writhes, intimate wrenchings and sorrow renounced.
8/16/96
Seeding the endless water filled pathway, soon what was once only a foot trodden
landscape will become a bright world brimming with essence.
8/19/96
Salvation comes in little chunks, not the overblown exhausting lump which is so often
depicted.
8/20/96
In the midst of becoming a new person, it is not uncommon to miss your old self.
9/6/96
singsong in the summertime, with sadness and sorrow
9/8/96
jism and juniper, staring up at leaves and silver clouds while the sun sets artistically against
your back.
9/13/96
galloping free association stems logical leaps
9/13/96
end of night begins, columns of soldiers trample the page
9/20/96
she lays exposed, the goddess of excitement
9/22/96
neo-wrappings and incense fondled sparkles
9/23/96
Fragile words settle emptily in my stomach, I need the sustenance of repetition.
9/23/96
Nothing with the intensity of stupidity should be ignored.
9/27/96
lines for augmented realities, waterboy.
9/28/96
Yellow reminders and huckleberry heart shaped tin roof sundaes.
10/2/96
Hiccuping into the infinite, a brown bald man's bulimia.
10/5/96
Stabbing of serial killers, haiku of hiccups, maiming of the Mediterranean
The butcher stabbed my schizophrenic saline solution.
I have surrogate mothers in my hairline,
my lineage is threatened by bachelorhood, (quick stop the sperm-press!)
I sit in my dump of a toothached life and
surround myself with flea bitten masturbatory mosquitoes
which sometimes suck and sometimes just blow.
Make my day in the hills of venice, sailing through the marsh
which separates my heaven and the shoe store.
Storm blows in, it's mandatory;
when suckers fall I lick the floor.
My my, how the beanstalk has grown,
one foot in St. Helen, huh?
You see someone on the street, swear you've seen them before, they make you think about
something you haven't thought about in so long, you have to hit yourself, you don't know
where you know them from you don't know why you thought of the things you thought of
when you saw them.
Life is epitomized by the slow rhythm your heart knows at birth.
10/7/96
fading marvelous.
10/8/96
come the return of the stars, my eyes are large
10/9/96
drops on the doorstep of a dime-man,
dime-man's face is unknowable
10/10/96
imbue the page with your lumps of mush and word
10/23/96
somber incentives saying nothing
I see in eyes the sphinx asking questions
you seek and secretly I swallow symmetry
10/25/96
logic in love with lips
the lusciousness of them,
leaning leering lechers
let logic lie,
I am a lover
of love.
licentious larceny:
stealing of sex
11/1/96
hands in wrong places
my lips on your neck
eyes hoovering over body structure
ease into comfortable mode
sidewinding around
structure of relationships
determination red as rose crystal
burst into stationary steam
single sex in spasm with symmetry of symbiosis
11/4/96
why does change reap the harvest of humanity,
we are instincts of progress, change becomes us,
evolutionary guinea pigs of the highest order
are we the apple 2GX...?
11/7/96
values burn incandescent in7 the night of anarchistic reality
11/8/96
distinguished and distinguishing
matching sequins, matching napkins and silverware
paper meche michelangelos
dance naked on mantles
stand heavy with stipend--clothed
my eyes are silver to eat with
The Flying Cock-Sucker
stands, screwing his investment
making deals with lawyers
who want his vacuum
between their legs.
The flying cock-sucker
swims in the sperm
of below desk diligence
and closet incumbents.
11/8/96
republic of romance on twisting dance floors and caterpillar circus rides
11/10/96
in the courage of the dawn, the sun glides in for the kill
I shade my eyes expectantly.
11/12/96
eleven hours -- sink half the day -- I sleep with iron lids for my eyes.
11/13/96
Devastation is the man in a trench coat,
he stands on the corner looking out over a city inaccessible.
11/15/96
fetid fields fit with flora wave friendly enough.
11/17/96
results stem tirelessly, draining the muse
11/18/96
In the night, jumping off the beams of moons,
a heart can run faster than a man:
landing in pools of it's own concoction,
or gliding ceaselessly through low clouds of emotion.
I ran into one of those hearts once.
I myself have fled the real in pant and circumvent,
my veins have been tangled.
I was wrapped in this heart,
fender bender of jumping hearts,
we were both snared.
Suddenly a snap--we were free,
a little worse for wear, a little relieved,
each sailed away.
11/19/96
Her neck sways like palm trees, her
figure bends passively in winds of touch.
11/20/96
I silence the words are inherent.
11/21/96
Incense makes sense
wiping away a sense
with the more powerful.
On the desk of platinum aroma,
the root smell of rank foot
takes top billing, the studious smell
of a coke refinery, the sulfur smell so familiar...
I have heard someone say they could smell the chalk in a classroom.
I cannot. But I do smell the spring. I smell the rain.
I can smell winter on the edge of happening.
11/24/96
through the burning hole of night
with a will he wilted, withered away
I snapped at the scabbards,
sheaths at sides of scoundrels fell away.
11/25/96
q-tips and conundrums
11/26/96
Iron skin softens at touch like a weapon.
I weaken your defenses,
trembling hands coil,
a glimmer of the inside emerges.
The fort is impenetrable,
impregnate with you though,
in between stones and mortar,
in between gaps in trees,
I can see your vignette,
faded at the edges.
With my weapons,
I will render you defenseless.
12/2/96
Today is spread thin.
I am melting like butter on toast.
The night's dreams explode
like flowers recorded blooming and played back at high speeds.
12/3/96
I lean on a wall without cracks
which separates the good from evil.
I stand tall on a mountain built of bricks,
which towers above petty distinctions.
12/9/96
I'm fine in limelight,
got my shoulder into the grindstone,
I'm wearing down the bone,
want some bone dust to spread,
throw over my shoulder.
Someday, I'll own the world, and I'll charge you to stand on it.
12/26/96
syrupy dreams have taken me
12/27/96
am I ashamed?
12/29/96
in the view of defile, denial piles higher, files larger
a hated man is someone scorned
what dares intrude upon this romance of sleep?
which man or beast comes to befuzzle my counted sheep?
I swim in strange curves upon the dark dusk shores of Absalom
an unfettered wind swings the waves over my brawn
from sandy shore I emerge, naked and dry
to push my way through bush and tangled vine -- 'till hidden sky
in deep, a web of green enfolds
no longer alone --
speaketh ye, or hold your peace,
I would return from whence I came.
1/3/97
Resolutions are blurry,
time dilates the worldview.
1/7/97
I stand up on my own,
a big boy.
My shoes are tied.
I still trip.
1/8/97
satellite spin stalactite
someone screams at midnight
1/19/97
Stagnate rooms of flesh
make for night suffocation.
1/20/97
birds rock superfluous blues
1/28/97
reek of the rifts between rafts of choral
reefs in the sea both fragile and floral
immortal rocks of dead bodies drown
blaze by with gaze turned upside down
1/29/97
I'm vacuous in my vicissitudes,
lacking in my lackadaisical learning,
languid on the couch of contentious.
1/31/97
saving grace's shepherds on the salvatory swing
2/2/97
Stepping up for exhaust,
swing that linoleum zipper.
Swooh swathed in applause
Ground frightens me,
I prefer to fly.
2/3/97
taste is smell
air tastes like you
you smell sublime
you smell chocolate
Things leave his hands
-- tiny planets --
scatter in the air,
fall and rise again.
Things live in his flowing aura
they are not in defiance
of gravity, or
rebellion from physics,
they are simply
following along his arms,
falling into his form.
mobius moonlight
2/5/97
view of waking vivality
vulvas full of venom
viciously veer from the vertical
into velumptiousness!
2/6/97
In wake of this wonder which lumber about my room, acting like me,
I will surprise the morning with my absence.
2/7/97
filled tyrannosaur dines on meat
2/10/97
from either peripheral images grow
2/14/97
on a silent still cat-walk bird lays eyes on sunshine worm
cat-walk can taste sunshine, knows he's juicy,
cat-walk's frustration is cylindrical metal.
2/15/97
In darkness' cask I'm drunk.
2/16/97
foreign alien silent
silhouette starch in sunset
earth is new to me
2/22/97
after andromeda, scream sun, scream!
2/23/97
on to silence, where words truly lie.
2/24/97
statues of flame and wings
ants and birds die together
mucus ties knots of snot
my arms flap chronic awe
2/28/97
monkey wrench to the grindstone
3/2/97
sun-lapse,
what shutters on the stream-line,
what dangles on rhinestone
3/3/97
gush intestine relapse
waveafterwave of fetid dirt
3/8/97
moth flower may
3/9/97
waiting for the savior in the mailbox to anticipate the guru.
3/8/97
on top of spaghetti, all covered with neon toxic sludge...
3/11/97
Love is a flea circus, where the fleas juggle chainsaws and bowling balls.
3/13/97
day in the night, god in the wood
3/15/97
robot movements in the glint of sunlight
3/19/97
Nothing on the name-line, noses in a niche.
3/21/97
The mythical masters mystery; perception is the slave of imagination.
3/23/97
Last night in a dream I remember fondling someone I haven't seen in years.
3/24/97
Dime on the sidewalk, walks upright, stands on its tails.
3/26/97
Pants painting ankles,
velvet vulva dream
makes me drip,
its sausage saliva --
raw white rivals swimming.
3/27/97
On another night the neuro-bats would swing in from heaven-town, tonight they stay there,
the rituals of coffin-night makes them high.
3/30/97
prevail in mind
4/4/97
scant attention is asserted
the lost leaves floating silent
focus only slowly
4/7/97
Loss is loss,
like lavender floss
and curtain-tails in rain;
all sound pretty
but damn-sure silly,
and silliest of all is pain.
* * *
my eyes are silver to eat with
chrome plated sex-drives
sex dives in electric escapades
swim in it skinny-boy
come out! onto computer chip clean
chrome craniums hidden --
hiding in computers
behind monitors
silenced by keyboards
and screaming in pixels
black pixel pupils
perpetrating, pretending, pestering
penis-pulling peckerheads
my eyes are watching hungrily
* * *
this diet,
man and mobius
pervert and infinite loop-which-I-tie-life-to
die and live
diet and live
skin off in skid marks
scan the skin, skank!
skirted the hasty scarecrow
sky high in scab-land
scream-scorch scared
maybe scarred maybe
skidded on ass
maybe scattered asphalt asking
4/7/97
Scream, angry man,
coffins are filled with men who choked on pride.
And scream desperate man,
God collects the souls of the weak.
Scream woman,
for injustice is the song of the hour.
Scream colored man,
but scream intelligently -- so that others will think you human.
Scream poet,
because words are never louder.
Scream everydayman,
tradition is the loudest frustration.
Scream lonely man
so that others may hear you cry.
Scream man-who-seems-to-have-everything,
you have the least.
Air is the right medium for sound,
use it.
4/9/97
Strangers down
don't do with sound
miles are hexes,
stone cathedrals galaxies and
torrential termites swoon in swan season.
* * *
On the median mountain mares moan and mangers meet methuselah in her soprano voices storm
On the median mountain, between the valley of the survivors and the valley o the dreaders,
I stood for a while pondering the headache I own.
4/11/97
for a fuck, too,
he smothered her, and
for a fuck he killed her
he was looking for a screw there
it was in the night, and,
for a fuck, too,
he would have done you
there, in the night, but
for a fuck he killed her
in red and glistening in silver
by moon and car light
for a fuck, too,
she was milk and she was smooth
in greying and in the chevy
for a fuck he killed her
he must have smelled her hair
he could not let her refuse
for a fuck, too,
for a fuck he killed her
4/12/97
In massacres the days twist sideways,
droves of days,
stanzas of days.
Snail-slime time slides by.
Slick but sticky
staccato seconds
tick, and tick, and tick.
4/13/97
Sewage miles between us,
carp feet suck asphalt on a leather day.
4/14/97
Spam speckled spatulas we used to spank with
make good insect swatters.
4/14/97
assignment in silence
a serenade of the most sullen
walk stick-like standing up
into arms of stone revulsion
4/16/97
Mexican sky, Oh! Spanish sky,
how I long to gaze upon your breast,
millions of twinkling sun-tanned stars
and I'm stuck in the dull midwest.
European sea, Oh! English sea,
I would I could float on your creamy crest,
you'd whisper me poems and offer me tea,
but here I am studying, instead, your best.
Oriental fire, Oh! Japanese fire,
smouldering beneath a dragon's breath,
your shinny toys like dart-gun eels
slither and strangle our states in your net.
African earth, Oh! home of the earth,
dry dusty prairies with interesting flesh,
tiger and elephant, lion and zebra,
Nature! if you could, grant me death.
4/17/97 HOW CAN YOU HARASS ME NOW, MEMORY!?
Green slime gut
puking guilt pancakes.
Her tornado words spin my own version upside down.
Is what I did so terrible
that now I shudder to think it might be true?
Damn deadpan-brain
worthless clunker,
you serve me black stolen oil.
4/17/97
In feigned sleep-fright
I skewer my bed with eyes of bolt-black blinding hatred.
Why sleep?
Damn biological demands.
4/20/97
Gorgeous morning, how cliche you are.
Your mouth hangs open against the sky.
4/20/97
Fallacy in infancy, the bedraggled in the soup.
4/21/97
Among the bedtime ragdolls,
bear's paw and Ann and Andy,
bedbugs lay in ambush,
briar teeth and antennae.
There are tiny demons waiting in your bed.
4/22/97 -- Blue Tongued Skink
Slithering skinks scant to ska.
I strut to one and smooch.
She skirts, I scare.
We fold on the sea of salmonella scarecrows.
4/22/97
balls with pennies in them I sink
to the bottom of the ocean
little ripples see their friends and laugh -- how insubstantial
the pennies fall through sifting nighten-glass,
water surrounds them, acid eats them clean,
the ripples and the pennies play, good natured pennies,
faces on their backsides, houses
in their middles.
Newly-wed in the grass-bed waving at the bottom of the sea.
Blue light special on sand and crabs,
little pinchers grab the light and cling
my sting is in my eyes, not by bite or claw
Look! there on the edge of that sandy ocean --
(ripples that match the surface)
there are penny eggs and copper children
just beginning to crawl,
just beginning to sting!
Who says wishes don't come true?
4/23/97
ham recitals, rectum jujubees,
triumph Washington yellowstone!
4/25/97
short lavender strings and men in white
hands move religiously, pious hands
the pope sings hymns at mass,
folds of skin beneath his chin writhing
4/27/97
I don't have all that much to say, so I must remember to paint portraits.
4/29/97
Sunflowers in the saffron sun,
lovely lilting and tilting their heads
bemused.
4/30/97
What words are to dazzle with?
lumpy mudpie at the black-top bakery
it's out there to eat
your pudgy hands shovel it
my minstrel voice markets it
we have dirt between us
5/2/97
wor(l)d waffling is when
you wander idly within rings of right
5/4/97
Carpet crust and floorboard asthenosphere
carpetinent?
5/5/97
Black and white morning, checkered dreams linger. I realized we're all different. I truly
saw from another's perspective.
5/5/97
With stickiness I was drown in the revulsion sea.
5/6/97
That tired topic,
lets treat it tread.
It's testosterone and table salt,
that talk of men. (The salt to add flavor.)
5/7/97
Hear midnight creep up on you like wolf/cat hunger.
Bat wings are velvet silent.
Blood is bat wing silent.
Blood is niagra's explosion.
Hunger thrusts inward,
drain and ooze.
5/10/97
notebook floorboards, scribbled footsteps
5/12/97
so silver I've got the end of a spoon in my eye
5/18/97
nugget knowledges, I'm
naming nincompoops on my tongue
swollen like honey stings
bee brambles bare my briar path to badmouth, but
condemning has never tasted right.
5/20/97
swarthy sweat conception
angle deception,
feet jungle like jaguars
sliding snakeskin shed its itchy-wet
pounce on you, leap onto you
scratch into you
5/22/97
sit in that glass of liquor
stains in your pants
5/22/97 TODAY AFTER GETTING A CALL FROM EMILY
You have changed so much.
Sight unsound, hair
like velvet is scrotum soft,
eyes are doe-see-doeing
What ifs
chance that you are sunk
jack-in-the-box deep
into yourself
is too boxlike
I must find the poet I once knew.
5/24/97
stuffed into truffles boxes
that crinkly plastic suffocating me
I've eaten everything.
6/5/97
itchy in my mouth
6/6/97
catchin' chiggers crazy
in cool months like august
Connie coming up,
her toy bazooka blastin'
centipedes in my basement
their wall-stick magic cements my eyes
running naked on gravestones
* * *
Images are the medium of poetry.
6/8/97
halves of everything,
stars and light years,
little things too:
socks, lightbulbs, vacuum cleaners...
everything paired, --split down middles--
me too: right and left brain war
arm and arm, eyes opposed.
We sit on a broken couch
(two cushions severed in the center)
our arms and legs tangle...
we are four halves,
slowly--we are four fourths.
6/11/97
frightening fraternities
wayside freaks
6/12/97
I'm monkey swing strung-out,
veil parmesan cooped-up.
I've got African slave trade negotiating disease,
skin like declaration parchment, abrasive
tongue sandblasting my mouth's roof
(in clicks and whistles.)
In winter maybe I'll beat my chest.
For now sahara heat beats my shrunken head.
6/14/97 BLEAT POEM
umber sky twixed green umbrella
and black bottomed blossoms
fear bleating from sheering
bayonet belies blessings and behests
--all ambiguous utterance--
sheer silence bounces
between browns
6/16/97
Everything is possible, nothing probable.
Winds die differently each direction.
What are months are seconds, noon day scratches,
twiddling on branches and grasses.
Yellow scatters, a lemon cut pie,
Noon day scratches at my datebook,
lunch is dry parchment in yellowed markings.
Scroll sandwiches scream for yellow.
6/18/97
hyper-criticize, critical, hypo-critter,
hippo-crip, (opposed to blackbird-blood)
hypno-crime, hypoallergenic critical mass,
jump-the-ship, counterfeit, lickety-split,
schnitzerfit, sick of it, hypocrifff..,
hint of it, in the shit,
hip-misfit, at the ritz, took a sip,
Do it, don't do it, don't snot on it, snot on it, but tell them you snotted on it, it doesn't
matter, but tell them that, they need to know, they're in it too, up to their ears, just like
you, they jump the same, and snot the same, and they deserve to know.
donut-sprinkle-green frog
glass ball swells his chin
princess's tongue licks warts
--my heart for the frog--
whose legs are steak
6/19/97
mid-ocean euphoria
a buttered reality slides off the knife
instead it's all sticky and dingy
seaweed skunks up intake valves
& choral crams the knife's sliding
scratching scars on that cycle
I'm cutting at worldly fabric
6/26/97
Everyone mates. Giraffes and cockroaches,
but mostly beetles.
Age of the beetle--
beetle buildings and beetle brains--
what we don't see we are still consumed by.
Beetles enter culture through osmosis,
millions of people beetles, barking and badgering,
(we haven't quite got the sounds right)
but mucking around and mating none the less.
Is it any small coincidence the Beatles were famous?
6/29/97
Not always
working together,
mass is master
and slave.
Jupiter, the largest planet, is
struggling to hold pieces of another planet apart.
6/30/97
Someday I'll measure out my life in notebooks.
7/10/97
white dawn down on that curved line
exploded night, those stars crept through,
false faces pinpricks pinning open our eyes
when all this time rays like that wait
zero in on eyelid lust
and scrape skull backs
with twilight tweezers
morning erupts!
7/20/97
maroon morning, you spread-eagle
jet engine endways in sunrise
Light from that faraway flame fills me
with a far away fear of flying.
7/21/97
paper mache person I'm in love with
This voice, sometimes I don't believe it's me.
To be, me, flee the contingency
fall on my knee, boney knee,
bone shone through skin brightly
so much for me
and me knee.
7/22/97
sunrise is a harsh lamplight
sky welds my eyes - wretched bolts
turning in their sockets and stripping their important edges.
I miss you my sunshine, I am a hundred blades of grass.
7/23/97
What autumn felt thunders at the door?
Whose brass leaves fall trumpeting to the timpanic grasses?
When shall I hold a thread of silver lovelight in the evening sitting 'neath your shade?
My velvet drips for you.
7/24/97
Hound dogs drivel and masticate.
8/12/97
hair follicles and folks spectacles and french horn specials;
all on sale at target for two ninety nine apiece.
8/14/97
Greyhound gunning it,
road eats mammoth man
with mastodon-tusk-mustache.
His smile is the bat,
a thin curved sickle
slicing at your doorbell,
inviting him inside.
A vacuum vaccine for your vexations,
something that'll clean you right up!
On living room carpet he shuffles
a Charlie Chaplin kind of clean.
8/20/97
Crumbling and melted chocolate,
I am looking at paper--that is who I am.
My identity is looking at paper
...crumbling chocolate...clinging;
smothered into the folds of paper.
I am a drum. I am a parachute.
Rhythm and falling...
hook...line...
my world is drop bottom, sinking.
I look up and the ceiling seems to spiral towards me.
* * *
Just a daze away,
I'm done -clip- with smothering.
Fantasy after fantasy mingled with ammonia.
8/25/97
The day is cut glass, my circle is smashed against the sides of a square weapon.
Outside the hurricane of human contact keeps me inside.
I am so afraid now of what I don't know. Why do these things scare me?
Frustrated, I anger all my friends away. Their absence pains me,
so I jab with my sore thumbs, sticking nails into the sky.
9/5/97
Aching joints stop me from hooking thumbs into a wallpaper day. I pull myself up to the
lip of the pool, smiling over the top, and drink an ocean of chlorinated morning.
9/5/97
I am the ostrich king,
--poking my head in the sand--
opening my eyes,
each grain is a tiny bit different,
all so magnified in darkness and proximity.
9/5/97
Images are the medium of poetry. So far I'm good at the medium and have no message.
9/15/97
on tides of lust the moon sweats in his hot cloud tuxedo
he is a voyeur bent
and with passion his crescent shape
creeps up into view
in our escapades we do not look up
he is always showing himself
9/28/97
I can see your tight little thimble shaped shelter.
The hermit that lives between your legs
is the closest to God we will ever become.
9/30/97
zero shaped particle running tracks
each winner breaks up
after each lap
those in stands wear white
lab coats and pocket protectors
10/2/97
leaning power of place
a spiral of it leading
things have no connection
otherwise
milieu masks
convert us all
10/3/97
a dying radio connection
that song we listened to in jr. high
i am feet scuttling, run run
10/4/97
city scrambles on a pan of streets
10/5/97
The stumbling of lumbering--
bumbling old men,
their feet and hands
tied in tradition;
the whimpering wet kisses
of dogs and men:
These things I do without.
10/9/97
tangles of an often shadowed tree
10/12/97
Time is a test of talent and perseverance.
10/14/97
ghetto words break with pick-axes framed in gold tooth-glory
10/17/97
I noticed nothing today, the moon was big, sounds interfered walking.
10/19/97
I've got to remember to let go.
signs painted on sidewalks, chalk outlines in spraypaint
dent cement with a dull morning mask made of sunken light
10/20/97
on sight of flying creatures, the wings design air.
10/27/97
mulatto woman makes muffins in baskets
10/30/97
The end of a thing is its sad point.
10/31/97
dust mites on hardwood
jump like rabbits on one another
their insubstantial teeth tear in a fury of savage dirt
These are not bunnies, cute, innocent,
they are living omnivores, wild,
hunting on hardwood.
11/5/97
On warships made with spool-wheels, the nail-bearers stand proud at the fore, nails in arm,
thimble-helmets pulled low.
11/6/97
fog horns and lantern jacks, and pewter cesspools and numb fingernails that sweep at
infinity like the sly smile of a fox, or the rose petal push of a briar birth.
I bleed black on my back, on the palms of my hands, and the inside of my mouth. All these
places have ink cartridge scars.
11/7/97
Swept by a fickle sickle, a darting dynamo on route to transience.
He was a manicured man; a lazy mustache sat fat on his lip, skimming whiskey from a
glass the man drank out of.
11/11/97
a frightened night comes spinning gone again
11/13/97
Shallow water--you calm beast; frozen on the blink of night.
11/16/97
my numbers, oh beast instinct, you play games and cry for a sunset that is not yours
11/16/97
limestone limerick,
latex glove hippocrasy,
the underscore of triumph,
the urban myth of religious freedom.
12/4/97
these leaves lead interesting lives
we lead lead horses on ropes of lightening
sunshine lets lives lay down and live
* * *
our ears are elevators
we ring at every floor
12/9/97
joints look like insides of clams,
shadows on hands make mouths of each crevice between fingers
each webbing winds into weary lips
12/17/97
In a sunlight palace, a prince waits in armor for his love to appear.
He will slay her when she comes.
She is night. She is moon.
She is all that he loves.
12/27/97
Weeks are passive, shrugging off days like a lice-lined jacket.
1/6/98
This day jungles by at a dizzying ape-like velocity.
It mashes its fists into banana leaves and walnut branches,
obsessively fondling fauna as it flies by.
These days are all a jungle jumble.
1/13/98
New squeaks and whimpers come from inanimate objects in my room.
Those lovely housemates are now a burden,
given to obscure poetry, I can only endure their noises so long.
Whistles and divine mumblings,
murmurings and shrapnel alluding curses,
prayers and angry explicatives,
aside statements, confusingly they speak to themselves,
all are muted, fortunately, in the night
when I turn off the lights and computers, electronics and all else.
Still, I hear the coughs from upstairs,
my brother's hacking cigarette karma,
floating down as a transitory bird of night,
an elusive stag in a forest of silences.
All ghosts are auditory in nature.
1/19/98
crevasse, mirage, oasis
Deep in skyline, dug out of the fissures of your body,
I find structure in your essence,
Complex structures, like the double helix,
Grand monoliths and cathedrals of skeleton structure.
These eye-slavers take me
Throwing my apprehensions aside
As if my will were a brittle chocolate.
I crumble for you--as you devour me.
2/1/98
Now in this unfathomable unfamiliar breadth of space, I'm alone.
2/3/98
drunk master, you unfold me, spread me out in infinite space
I am yours, bellybutton slave,
I am you in savings, you pushing a shopping cart,
I slime a sticky circle,
you push me, you smite me, you surround me, you send me.
2/9/98
I sit on edge, plains all take me over, like sunken ships, like the vortex at the edge of a
tornado, like a volcano's hot pump deep into the center of the earth. I'm sucked in, feeling
the length of nowhere, feeling the depth of nothing. Feeling the stretch of infinity on a
makeshift line into zero. I feel the plain, the plain flakes one level of me away after another,
the plain planes my existence, shaving away at my self.
2/16/98
all well on the eve of destruction:
I sit against the chair like it's a viper, teeth held out --pointy staples--and every inch of my
back is tingling with the unfelt venom, I hoover away from it, my pockets are empty but
there are lint eaters in there, and I think they swallowed my last penny, I have hairball
eyelids and shooting star circumcision, teething on a rubber monster-truck tire I have all
the teeth I can handle, I file them down periodically. Now I need to make amends, I broke
her skin on accident. I have no consolation, there are food baskets out, and I have some
elephant breakfast, but it doesn't help, I'm still hungry, like a hungarian, and my pen is dry
red, got a spout at the end, both of them, you can tilt it upside down and it doesn't write, but
the ink is still there, like an unopened letter.
She's a changed man.
2/17/98
a large orange truck
driving away from the city
driving over the state line
sitting on the other shore, park bench
holding hands, warm, tiny, long fingers
kissing, "wow" lips sliding
walking, throwing snow into the river
sitting again
a dock, surrounded by ice
"do not jump on the dyke"
truck, hill, watching a toy city
shivering together
kisses take the cold
truck, city, apartment
three rabbits, hamsters, us
skins and sex, lips and skin
coffman, bedroom, bed
skipping class, kisses,
my house, backrub
abrupt farewell.
2/21/98
anyone here from minnesota?
Love is a lick and a click away,
all fingers hold the keys.
All day I sampled night.
All night I sampled skin.
Virtual is real and real is virtual,
lives are multiplied and divided.
Mine are skinny, and shampooed.
* * *
Wanted: someone with whom to share my life:
fears angers agitations
lovesickness loneliness
dating dreaming down-time.
This person must:
not be afraid to try new things
not mind if I try new things
take me seriously
sympathize care and be compassionate
arrange themselves around me
allow me to arrange myself around them
immerse themselves in me without fear
allow me do the same
be honest
want sex
have their own opinions, goals, expectations
bring those opinions, goals, expectations into the relationship
love to read
love to cuddle
think rationally (within reason)
2/23/98
an evil villain crouches at the door, dismal eyes, black lashes, lash me.
3/2/98
waiting in the wings are the microcosmic evil-eaters
they sink their fangs into your flesh
savoring your flimsy skin
wickedly swallowing every wet slab of blubber
3/3/98
Now the slab of butter lays down to sleeep.
Its pillow is a hot hot piece of bread,
the butter prays to the king of buttery-goodness,
keep my essence! the butter prays
low and behold, the flavor of the dead butter
is spread evenly upon the bed of bread
it's dead, but it lives on,
buttery-goodness is served.
3/9/98
walking down greek street, the smell of falafel and lamb,
you smile like a circus clown, I drink your fresh hairs
3/19/98
That headache full of sleep deprivation, the humiliation
skank sunk skunk ... a rode the pony in slow motion
eyes hulking
3/22/98
What waits on this night
paws turned inside out,
fingers like grappling hooks on your heart, what waits?
What is it waits
for your stray thoughts
drift uncannily into an open desert of longing?
What could it be
her devilish messenger
sent steady to steam your passions? what foul beast?
What waits on this night
hungers and feasts
then leaves you gnawed upon, what waits?
4/2/98
In the million dollar question, those who know the answer gain only a little bit. Those who
fashion the question gain immensely. Those who are the answer do not gain, but are
themselves already ahead. Those who are the question... they are saviors.
What is the question?
4/8/98
gosh golly, god in galoshes!
4/24/98
nests of these asphyxiated birds, the whole lot all cooped up, crooked eyes and beaks that
sink into flesh like dolphins into water's depths.
5/4/98
magic darkness mania
sunglasses stay on all night
vampires swoop down on helpless victims
Of course Vampires would burn in sunlight,
their metabolism is so much higher, their
skin would be so much hotter. Damp cool places?
3/11/99
activities not taken-under in ice ages
now surface, silk-like intentioned, under a glass dome.
wording reversal all utterpated--
lips on a sugary crystal surface, stalactite
hung.
3/11/99
a driving force behind the behemoth of bombing birds and berries in bahklavadeshikabbab
is the budding of biochemical boarfare, where the one country rips the other out by its
balls.
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