Apples in the Tree
Saturday, January 24, 2009
The Laughing Planet
The menu called for beansprouts. Against my first instinct, I included them on my sandwich. Divine intervention happens in even a seemingly insignificant decision. The sprouts crunched with the soil-like flavor of premature life.
Later, a triangular closet with the lights off. The color of candleflame spasms. Senses off but sound.
Asian Echoes
What's your measure of the American life?
An untold multitude mark their loyalty by Service, slaves to yellow vans and unholy Sabbaths. Their toil's reward is the whisper of "Master" from tired mouths.
An unseen minority hack passion into Lumber, connecting-the-dots for their dark-room coffee-tables.
Lamenting the times spent as collective beasts.
Fetal galleries display life in weeks. Eyes and ears and mouth and nose. The jug of knife-wielding drunks is candle-lit and labeled "VERNAL".
Roads of action. Whirls of inaction.
Insignificant coincidences talk-back through dashes.
The large-intestine length. The snare to middle-condenser distance.
58"
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Mystic Chevelle
In Echo Park I played floor Tom Keslin the Third who had triple bypass surgery Thursday of every month old ladies knit Macrame Owl pellets with mouse bones breaking silence with over compressed hand claps trailing waves trolling Lake Webster for Carp to shoot with a shot gun spear borrowed from Walter P Funk Allstars with a flashlight shining on Tatum's Snoring at the Country Hearth Inn as my subconscious screams like an empty lion and Chin repeatedly rolls like the pleats of Kevin's Cape.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
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