Wednesday, April 30, 2014

mmcxl

I’m (barf!) _______!

I object or _________ baloney, ___ soon
become ____ __ _ minced sputtering
____ _____ ____ initially ____ phrases
such as criminal misconduct! ___ the
authorities ______ ___________ immed-
______! and, finally, ___ exasperated__,
those bastards! ___ _ ____ __!

___ a bit bonkers, no doubt. 
Am I ___ only ___ ___ ____ _________
virtually and __ thusly?        Ex______,
________ about this, ___ _ ___ here,
how _ ___ ____ ___ _____, when, __ mere
moments _______ I was head___ somewhere
____ ________, __ someplace more ________,
__ more ________, more enter_______, __ __ ___
____ _____ ____ healthy, and less ____________....  

___ down it goes ____ ____
____ ____ ___ __ _______ __ time. 

So, I ____ __ feel more ____
____ __ inkling __ disgust ____ myself. 
I start to like my____ less, and, moment__,
____.  ___ I usually like myself – __ least _

[G]eneral__ [S]teady _____ ___. 


Tuesday, April 29, 2014

mmcxxxix

Teen dies of old age
        —a CNN.com headline

I’d kiss you if my breath weren’t just
smoked cheddar cheese and more smoke.

Can you confirm whether or not you’re
doing okay?  Yes?  No? 


Monday, April 28, 2014

mmcxxxviii

Giving stuff away is good for poetry
                                    —Leopoldine Core

thinking about ____, how I got ____,
how I get ____ too often, even as ____
moments ___ _ _a_ head___ ____where
____ entirely, __ some_____ ____ relevant,
_or_ ____ ________, ____entertaining, or at the
very least ____ healthy, ___ ____ curmudgeon__...

So I begin __ ____ ____ ____ just an
inkling of disgust ____ MYSELF. 

I like myself ____ ___ _____. 
(I ______ like myself
__ least _ ______ ___.)

And it goes like ____ for an
amount of time

________ __ messiness ____ _
_______ when being fed _______________
_____ are (supposedly) _____ __ an
accumulation __ _________ from
____ ______.  ___ (barf) ______

___.  (Sigh.)  It’s true. 

And so I begin to remember
that I am.  So ____ __ ____
placing one eye over __ ____
___ I _____ (admit_____ __
_some____ ______-drama
___ _____on) ____ my eyes. 

Unfortunately, it ______.
Doesn’t ____ __ ____ see
_________ more ________,
___ ___ obvious
or that the ___ I ___ winced.
Muttering such as I ______
______ _____ always ___
I __________ __,
corporate baloney or
 ______ __, and
__ __ soon mis-



Sunday, April 27, 2014

mmcxxxvii

The Spirituality of _______ Dancing

I ___ very _____ _________ to the People’s Choice Awards
or to iTunes ____ ____ings or ____’s metascores ___
(most especially!) I abhor digging ______ ____ ________,
information which, if I happen upon it, is in almost every case
an ___________ ____________ because I don’t ____.

(Wait, I take that back, I’ve ____ed twice;
both for friends in the ____ industry who’ve
coaxed me into giving _ ____ ______ to _____
_____ __ employment _____ _____ _____ a ‘bad rap’ –
purportedly by ________ rivals, not _____ _________. 
It was hurting ________, ____ _______, and so I conceded
___ wrote a couple of nondescript ________ _______.)

(Which goes on to prove the point of my disgust in
the whole thing, I suppose...)

I’m the guy who _________ _____
any such proffered _______________ –
those rank & file _____ claiming to have been
 “democrat______ _______” – well, not only
downright suspicious, but also
hardly worth my time and/or effort.

__ _____ ________ __ __
______ __ ___ _____ bit of attention.

Anyone can participate, after all
(more on my ________ with that
shortly).

So, when I find that once again I’ve inadvertantly
landed at such an address—when, during whatever
query or quest I’m making of my moment,
all roads __ ___ __-______ Information Super-
_______ dead end at a sponsored heap __
__________ solutions or __________ _______________
____ ____ ____ _____ed & ____ed __ _____
nice egalitarian folks who like to take the
____ __ ____ —____ _ ____ __self _______
once again at a ____ed heap—it’s a fair bet
that what soon follows is a _____ced ________ing
of phrases that _____ under breath, such as
_ ______ or ________ _______.          Exhale,


Friday, April 25, 2014

mmcxxxvi

Do you need me to pick up any drumsticks?

Did you hear about the film suspension in
Honolulu?  C-o-n-t-r-o-v-e-r-s-y ! !  Also,
every paper this morning (well, none of it

paper anymore, at least for me) used the
adjective “sloppy” to describe last night’s
Golden Globes.  But apparently that was a

good thing, at least if I’m understanding the
various contexts (and my consulation with the
Urban Dictionary) correctly.  Because I never

watch the Golden Globes, always wait eagerly
for the Oscars instead. And besides, I’m
pretty embarrassed by sloppy (be it

mine or others’).  In general.  So as for me,
I’ll believe my pal Diane, who seems to be the
one person on the planet who didn’t enjoy

last night’s slop-fest.   Oh, no.
I may have just realized that my
real problem is with democracy.



Thursday, April 24, 2014

mmcxxxv

Do you know how long we have before the Thunder Palace activates?
                                                          —overheard during an episode of Fairy Tale

I wanna settle the score with Salamander so bad I can taste it!
                                                    —also overheard during an episode of Fairy Tale

Does pee turn to snow in icy cold?
                                                           —an actual CNN.com headline


It is not pretty, this poetry.  Or it was such a shame
when his mouth entered the happy room.  Happy
today is strange and is quite impossible to
understand.  One electric fan makes a white
noise that soothes me into sleep while one
electric humidifier (also with a fan) sings
the eternal language of chalkboard fingers.
Which I can barely type, can barely say
(chalkboard fingers), can barely
imagine myself saying.



Tuesday, April 22, 2014

mmcxxxiv

privilege

the bowl
from which
i scoop
is a
painter’s
palette

the hole
from which
i emerge
blows me a
kiss goodbye

Monday, April 21, 2014

mmcxxxiii

...and spreading panicles of purple flowers—a low violet cloud!
                                                                         —Mei-mei Berssenbrugge

The space
between
your piano

and my
big toe


Sunday, April 20, 2014

mmcxxxii

hi!  i
mean

hey!

or
yay!


Saturday, April 19, 2014

mmcxxxi

then,
seeing aliens,
we headed for the hills


Friday, April 18, 2014

mmcxxx

writing
is a lazy
form of
commun
ication


Thursday, April 17, 2014

mmcxxix

my people
were trained
in a hot tub


Wednesday, April 16, 2014

mmcxxviii

this is
pretty
boring

but it’s
not
boring
like
hetero-
norma-
tive
culture


Tuesday, April 15, 2014

mmcxxvii

-[gasps]-

“What’s going on?”

     “I think we’re
       overestimating
       the bid.”

“Oh.”

-[pause]-

      “I feel really sick
       and I have to quit.”

-[leaves]-


Monday, April 14, 2014

mmcxxvi

doppelgänger

skin flaps
syntax

Sunday, April 13, 2014

mmcxxv

this knit funnel-neck tank top

this knit
funnel-
neck
tank top
doubles
as a
sporty
hoodie

Saturday, April 12, 2014

mmcxxiv

the morning
got extended
by a black
ladybug


Friday, April 11, 2014

mmcxxiii

i invested in the pre-moment.
               —kathryn l. pringle


these boots

were made

for walking


somewhere

over the

rainbow


giuchie giuchie

ya yaaaa  dada


it has been hard living
since the pre-moment.
               —kathryn l. pringle


Thursday, April 10, 2014

mmcxxii

sad solid sun

dear mr. bigstuff,
who do u think
you are?  u should

know better than
anyone that big
is in the eye of

the beholder.
here’s mud
in your eye,

not boulder
(n., this rock
i ask u2 choke-

hold at, let’s say,
around 5:30pm,
{which, by now}

which, by then)
gets gotten up
like ego; pumped,

not vacuumed
all up—or down.
—up  /  not down

watch as it
gathers gout
at & about you

mad moon bum

Wednesday, April 09, 2014

mmcxxi

The brain—soft bag—collapses on itself
                                                   —Etel Adnan

watching a hummingbird
take to the droopy hearts
of the Castro on a
weekday afternoon

far from femininity
(the ocean seemingly
forever away), massive prows
jut over Market Street

intimidating hopscotch
the overshadowing of
half a dozen or so
brand new buildings—

condominiums (etc.)
triangular suited men
duck stealthily in & out
of the darkness

all futurissimo!
each checking his
watch as he emerges
into the light

then swooping
back out presto
leaving nothing
but tiny whirlwinds

fluttering up and
above—swirling
impressions—
echoing rictuses

of a hundred
or so pursed lips


Tuesday, April 08, 2014

mmcxx

the low-hanging brunch

Monday, April 07, 2014

mmcxix

it wasn’t sleeping

ms. birdjam’s
ampersand
sundials

or so we all thought
(whew)


Sunday, April 06, 2014

mmcxviii

At the end of the
drain, I meant day...
           —Norma Cole

repetitious
recitative
is what the
interlude
?

my heart stutters

i, me, mimosa
and a mexican coke


Saturday, April 05, 2014

mmcxvii

’mid the
turmoil
(& other
illnesses)
AMAZING
GOODNESS!
(@SweetWoodruffSF)


Thursday, April 03, 2014

mmcxvi

small
captions under
these photos
    —Norma Cole


Wednesday, April 02, 2014

mmcxv

on this day
80% of the people
missed each other
        —Norma Cole

I have a friend

I know someone
who does

ordinarily
party
people
collide