I
watch a concentric bug with a prosthetic proboscis walk across the sill I like
to sit by the window some people write some people sing I’m an embodiment of
sugar I learned to hide my emotions deep behind my ribs it all sounds
equilateral I’m curious about this music the human ear is a strange organ the
tangential is tantalizing can you define reason
I’m
not affiliated with any religion or ideology I want to seize the stars the
camaraderie of the workplace is easily exploited why does pizza make people so
happy the window in my heart opens on a landscape of error I have a tendency to
wallow in remorse & put it in my hair like a big primate in an Alfred Jarry
story
I
like the feeling of an oar in my hands illusions float in the brain like birch
bark canoes I like to crush aluminum cans the artist must work in solitude I
never dreamed you could get tired of ice cream the limestone is charming words
sparkling with lucidity I learned to throw knives in the circus I sometimes
found refuge in alcohol this is the story of a mind flags rely on symbols but
they all flap in the wind think about that think about Eric Clapton’s nose it
seems to have gotten smaller over the years or did his face get bigger who cares
Arizona
flies through my head maps fascinate me money kills the exquisite sense of life
the blues agree with me my arm hurts when I reach into the cupboard to get a
jar of peanut butter I’m building a spaceship with rubber bands & tinfoil
Isn’t
it strange to live in a body the trees begin to blossom the melancholy sound of
a train in the fog echoes a woman drinking water from a garden hose how is
aluminum made it’s a long slow process to accept hard realities like dying or
oligarchy a man playing the harmonica in the Dordogne replenishes the spirit
with hawks
My
arm falls asleep & I have to let it hang at the side of the bed to get the
blood to recirculate eating is strange you put living matter in the mouth chew
it digest it it becomes muscle & thought it becomes meat & meaning the
architecture of music involves flutes ambiguity is the sauce of reverie I like
the heave of waves
I
often have a problem getting my keys out of my jeans pocket loose change comes
with it & sprinkles on the ground I never cease to marvel at the strength
of steam intensity is discouraged in our society a tube of midnight blue
squeezed by an old woman’s hand I suffer from hyperacusis & am preoccupied
by food insecurity it’s always cold at the supermarket I love peanut butter &
jelly sandwiches the airplane sighs & moves forward possession is a total
irreality
An
orange is a distillation of sunlight the greater the vocabulary the greater the
reality my mouth is a suitcase linen isn’t just a word it’s a fabric a
fabrication a feeling folded & put in a closet the frame is at least half
the image rivers are beings each day I notice a new wrinkle plantar fasciitis
is a bitch what more can I say the armchair emanates the comfort of sitting in
it the glow of gold at the bottom of a lake words overlap the border between
the real & the unreal here in the U.S. you’re evaluated according to how
much money & property you possess so does it matter if the scenery along the highway is beautiful
no because it’s not going to be there long
Inspiration
is just a matter of breathing the universe in the human body is full of water
& salt it’s our duty to appreciate the value of rumination then let it go
not everything happens in sequence brain waves float the language of the sun a
dream of iron salutes the mountain at dawn life is unpredictable you can’t
define everything with a beer mug the thumb is the chandelier of the hand the
plough revolutionized agriculture & there you have it the impregnable
politics of the polka dot I do push-ups & trumpet the piquancy of rhubarb
stick figures walking on paper it’s a pornography of linguistic pricks small
wounds expressed by spit & polish until the limits dissolve & the
universe comes flooding in
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