Smokey Marshalls Steamboat Extravaganza

These streets are frozen now. I come and go Full of a longing for something I do not know My father sits slumped in the deepening snow As I search, in

2012-02-08T08:12:00.000-08:00

almost spring but darker
the dusk holds whats left of
the garden up
mush, rot, and leaves
a pumpkins last few weeks on this earth

boring
dull
evil

peaks in our windows again
an empty streets empty branches
blend
good with car exhaust
and long gridlocked commute

long waves of thaw
and winters blunt edge
working

the red bud and dogwood wait for me
the garden where
your Azaleas will hold me
melts
rhododendron in spring is
proof enough

An aspen or sycamore expanding

2012-02-08T07:39:00.000-08:00

after death
the soul
addressing itself
wanders around

the window from which im surveying
defines me

the magnitude of the sycamore this morning
despite my best efforts
will simply not leave

its white bark pealing
its autumn scowl
absorbing the winters void
alone
and fogging the glass
between itself and everything else

An aspen or sycamore expanding

2012-02-07T19:08:00.000-08:00

night noise from the garden
turned and twisted my
morning disappointment

and im almost surprised
youve not been burying the
birch or fawns tail without me

where that red frown becomes
clear sumac dawn
and the empty sun itself
wilts everything in October

2011-09-09T08:47:00.000-07:00

"The bird fights its way out of the egg. The egg is the world. Who would be born must first destroy a world. The bird flies to God. That God's name is Abraxas." Hermann Hesse Demian

deal out specification in thin thin twinkles
mention light in Nature
or dual amoral nature

using nature itself
to build things with
or wrong yourself in the woods with

off the ego alone
cracking into two egos
with three beings
hating me
or hating what I saw or tried to see
in the owl in the barns opening

2011-08-24T20:28:00.000-07:00

I wanna be folk hero
but I can no longer handle the hangovers

I dont know a dam thing about blacksmithing
but
falling off a trailer comes easy
screeching out free bird with Randy
waiting for a limb to heal

the pain killers kick in before breakfast
and a lecture on religion leaves me

laying stiff in the morning dew
my broken foot still broken
the scent of pine still kicking with
my fathers jab in the ribs

I wanna be a folk hero
and I came dam close

last summer
my center torn from night
summer
the orgin and mother of everything
summer
with me in my yard
its many manifestations
a mirror to nature
held under small oak
mirror to excess
mirrors in farmhouses
where light
gives shapes and waves
of joy
from other suns shadows
and from other farmhouses

2011-08-24T19:54:00.000-07:00

I wanna be folk hero
but I can no longer handle the hangovers

I dont know a dam thing about blacksmithing
but
falling off a trailer comes easy
screeching out free bird with Randy
waiting for a limb to heal

the pain killers kick in before breakfast
and a lecture on religion leaves me
stiff in the morning dew
my broken foot is still broken
the scent of pine still kicks in the ribs

I wanna be a folk hero
and I came dam close

last summer
my center torn from night
last summer
the orgin and mother of everything
last summer
with me in my yard
its many manifestations
a mirror to nature
I held in my yard
mirror to excess
giving shape in waves
from sun

2011-08-12T15:07:00.000-07:00

dark dark green native light
pours from itchy boring timber thicket
the kind of evil that feels good
the kind of poems that whine
and convey whiny ass bitchiness
but still reach out far into the boring mountains
the poor farm house
and my cottonwood

July

2011-07-20T14:42:00.000-07:00

night noise from the garden
turned and twisted my
morning disappointment

just over the hill
old birds become
trees
in afternoons lazy half light

almost Surprised by
unknown evening

we look up at what has come
a smooth sun bursting over familiar fields

Wetland

2011-05-24T22:59:00.000-07:00

deal out specification in thin thin twinkles
mention light in Nature
using nature itself
build things faster
or leave the things in the woods
to wrong yourself in the woods with
off the ego alone
cracking in two egos
with three beings
hating me
and hate what I saw or tried to see
with the owl who meets what matters
in sunny evil sedges eying the barns opening

2011-04-25T09:19:00.000-07:00

when
wilderness called
I put
together new sound

armed with
last nights frogs

I turned over

California

torn from my window

in
wind
light
and rain

to let the porch hear
what my heart creaks

wrapped in springs mess
my strange etched village comes

where rain itself washes dry
mean cottonwood's curse

dumbing down even the dirts role
in things

just yesterday
a road moved closer
under whole clouds at night
itching

with used limbs
pinched BETWEEN flat surfaces
and tracks passing a friends house

playing poor one
on damp rivers rot
a simple form rises
OUT OF a dreamt up sky

where
smoked praries walk and pray

forgive me now
im too
distant and old to recall
marsh or bog
where
up to our ears
we found evil in boyhood

a real guilt at home

and a
dirty river whenever we wanted it

where
when
new wilderness called
I made no sounds

Dec 2010

2011-01-09T23:00:00.000-08:00

is found within a cathedrals vespers
Earth
sharpens a poor working door

machine built to pry on me

opens me up to
contain multiple

cathedrals

for me
a dreams
tree lacks dignity
in gods death alone
hip death

reference to other circles

i cant tell cloud from smoke

15 miles into Kansas

Thawed murder by light at the boat dock

haunting
friend scared of black helicopters

ALVEY S

2011-01-09T22:56:00.000-08:00

I never scratched Alvins feet for a quarter

but once he lit M-80s at the national horse shoe tournament

the Falls City court house

and jail drawing officers

once

Ima jean his wife welded metal into sculpture

twirling deal

we kicked field goals in the crotch of there oak

next to north school

with dan and andy

where we went to kindergarten

where we ate low income lunch

and i almost hid

Black Stone on Top of a White Stone by Cesar Vallejo

2010-12-28T10:26:00.001-08:00

I shall die in Paris, in a rainstorm,
On a day I already remember.
I shall die in Paris-- it does not bother me--
Doubtless on a Thursday, like today, in autumn.

It shall be a Thursday, because today, Thursday
As I put down these lines, I have set my shoulders
To the evil. Never like today have I turned,
And headed my whole journey to the ways where I am alone.

César Vallejo is dead. They struck him,
All of them, though he did nothing to them,
They hit him hard with a stick and hard also
With the end of a rope. Witnesses are: the Thursdays,
The shoulder bones, the loneliness, the rain, and the roads.

2010-12-06T17:44:00.000-08:00

find my dirty cup
and water my pines
I light my fires with dry pines
when church and
flowers treat me like a shady stranger
AND i dredge
and cobble EARTH'S assorted patterns

this summer the whippoorwills fell silent by mid June
I skipped the amphitheaters movies
TO play werewolf in the woods
moaning at autumns crisp kindness

2010-10-27T17:28:00.000-07:00

with you counting the lightning
and my gray hairs
I witness the pond you skated as a kid
miss the turn
and fog the windows

your direction proceeding mine
a glorious road
of haphazard half glances
chilling me love
did you not know me as a younger self?
a reckless boy loving you
but not knowing
I know you in my bones
a past life?
like heat in the woods
or flooded river
I find you in everything now

2010-10-27T15:06:00.000-07:00

we carried Lester's coffin
in a dredge of September afternoons

now
wearing his flannel
I blast god with Octobers wind
preparing grandpa for fire

red shimmer of sumac reaches me
through the echos of harvest
and Lesters ghost in a grain truck
oxygen mask and all

mmmmmmm

2010-09-30T21:27:00.000-07:00

dumb new poem
same work with
cute wind and autumn trail
when I was younger I would have scared

Ya YELLOW
jumping out behind lush bushes
with one poisoned
armed arm
behind my back
and mean squint in each eye
with pointed locust twig
wily bird hobo dreamer
on all painted faces
at every single occasion ever
every train station ,even wagon
or box cars wrangled

from here on up
out
to Kalamazoo
a drunk
withering flower
in the weeds

"for Justin "

2010-09-13T19:19:00.000-07:00

and now i've scared my brother
armed
to the teeth
with amazing
magic eye
learning to float well
and land its veil
amongst wheat sheered
by warlock tooth

bored now
with the rise and fall of what
we waited for
what autumn lacks
or takes from our family
now that you've locked me in the loft
knocked lose the latter
to drown it in the dirty hay

2010-09-05T09:34:00.000-07:00

a sign directing me
from a southern " explosion of fall foliage "

to past gardens of passing vulture squats

nestled between big sandstone poems
and black Black Nemaha's eyes

where ive blocked out my fear of horse headed oak
the sumac making its snear

corrupting Sundays sermon

at the little empty country church
which only receives guest
when the sun hits the brick
an illuminates its worn red surface

Holy Mountain

2010-08-20T18:02:00.000-07:00

place the turkey feathers in my mug
and trust them to stay put over night

stay up with night vision
use amphetamine
listen to electro
so time doesn't rewire
your vcr

reattaching each feather
to its correct spot
on each bird

2010-07-26T16:58:00.000-07:00

you've no business burying dead under
birch
or fawns tail
where red frown becomes
clear sumac dawn

cascading us forward
in horrible emptiness

wanting that knock and stomp
upstairs to be
ghosts
not you or me
finding
poisoned roots
with past
wilt decorating leaves
in October

meeting

2010-07-06T15:43:00.000-07:00

funny Large sun flower cot
huge blackberry pillow
and a god dam mean windmill
turns old at the Gandy ranch clearing
where 100 baby ticks crept
past the very best places for a banshee ambush
ruining the third wican wedding this Fall

Armillaria ostoyae

2010-06-05T13:42:00.000-07:00

growing black rhizomorphs
and shoestring rot
hiding

larger than the blue whale
and even giant sequoia

unseen under ground killer

a fungus older than Jesus

David A. Johnston

2010-06-02T21:57:00.000-07:00

I imagine it like this

you talking to animals

bear or

silly birds

this is it

stinky puff of smoke from catastrophic crater

where tired stumps meet blow down at Mount St Helen's

young mountain salvaged

Vancouver! Vancouver!

Erie utterance stump-in

you alone understand

2010-05-25T21:15:00.000-07:00

this mass of chard earth that cant catch a break
brewing fog south of fire kill

and a snag hangs ominous

a snag hangs eying

catching sprinkles of rain

plotting projectile course
for foresters head
decomposition
calling in beetles
from grave
in the shadow of Mt Jefferson's
fungus

2010-05-24T23:54:00.000-07:00

place the delphinium in my paws
and forget the meadow

say good bye in
which ever way you can

but do
something here
to stir the brush

recommend slight
ways to counteract
the sight and smell of smoke
on a dim wits afternoon

tear up

high center
rally
and whip the earths
paths

flinching to
look at

the dusty face of
god on a Kansas
country road

Holcome

2010-05-22T23:44:00.000-07:00

place the delphinium in my paws

and forget the meadow
say good bye in
which ever way you want

something here now stirs in us
ever so slightly

burning the afternoon
for traditions sake

tear up

high center
rally
and whip

our uneasy jib

and dusty look given
by god on Kansas
country road

High Desert Home

2010-05-19T22:30:00.000-07:00

with the wind banging
the tatters of plastic
left on wooden frames
I bury the dead
under sage

we make ghouls outta every dam thing
when we need too

trip on pumice
raised beds
and curse the slam jamming
door of chicken coop shed thing

I dont want to make my Jade plant a widow
but im gonna get naked outside with beer
give her water when she wants it
so she can

photo

photo

synthesis

Left em in the rain together to watch
the storm touch moon
and I interacting
with all three
cant tell the difference between

KOA camp

2010-05-17T22:41:00.000-07:00

dredge
nothing
but old weedy
steamboat

bruise poor white jenkins
or
seek trashy
"sky oval "
dropping tears quickly
reshaping themselves
from plans given to us by
crescent moonish eyes
to itch shadow

drank
entirely too much
before dawn

the flee market coming to soon
and ending with five too many belt buckles
and a free turquoise lamp shade
in tow

finished the day off
musing for what looked like animals
in the
failed falling of future night
gathering like litter
between houses
and the outskirts
of every-thing else

Deep Deep Deep
where
moss on the trail
blocks drunk opossums way out
where paved sidewalk ends
and stump gives in to grave stones
dug up
spit out
and hid in

2010-05-17T22:05:00.000-07:00

nothing to say
steamboat,
poor white jenkins
or
trashy
sky oval dropping crescent moon eyes
like tears

2010-05-09T11:59:00.000-07:00

With the bear cub below
and the hot springs missed
nothing much is left between

I remember the trees we climbed
in my mothers back yard

the crab apples in

the sand box

and the pink house
with friends on both sides of
Towle Street

2010-04-17T20:30:00.001-07:00

Rambo it lose on China hat road
where yesterday 3 caves were found

and Randy four wheeled himself to death
and I ran off out of gas

the skeletons up for sale

shoot orange shit sky high

near or almost on top of horse butte
for the sake of
target practice

on vile jackal-ope carcus

with the burst of discarded shells
brightening the noxious weed night
Chet grass on survivalist boot
scum bag
tossed
tow truck drivers cigarette
starts fire
100% tree mortality
disrupting a teenage beer bust

2010-04-17T18:51:00.000-07:00

Saturday, April 17, 2010

Rambo it lose on China hat road
where yesterday 3 caves were found

and Randy four wheeled himself to death
and I ran off out of gas

the skeletons up for sale

shoot orange shit
sky high

near or almost on top horse butte
for the sake of
target practice
with the burst of discarded shells
brightening the noxious weeds
chet grass on survivalist boot
scum bag
tow truck drivers cigarette
starting fire
with 100% tree mortality
disrupting a teenage beer bust

2010-04-15T00:30:00.000-07:00

for you
Ive nothing left but
shit Stories of Youth

map viewed from map
Shrinkingly distant,
brilliantly,
audaciously,
good map
so that
all know how
ive been possessed
by form so soft
and so fragrant
that my cloths were stolen right off the line
by movement brandished
from the bushes

hopefully
with a view

interesting enough
to stop the neighbors from gawking

this stormy youth and
rag tag
beginning
growing more cadaverous
the crime watching itself
manifest

trespassing
inches in front
of my silly nose

2010-04-14T23:58:00.000-07:00

for you
Ive nothing but my
Story of Youth

viewed from a map Shrinkingly distant,
brilliantly,
audaciously,
good
so that
all know
ive been possessed
by form so soft
so fragrant
that my cloths were stolen
by movement
interesting enough
to stop anyone from speaking of
or grow cadaverous
watching the crime itself
manifest
inches away
from my silly
snotty nose

2010-04-12T23:21:00.000-07:00

Just

The sharp task of identifying things

terrifys me

hard nosed mausoleum rejected

a month ago

this doesn't register in me

but annoying sleep in sharp sharp river

deepens now with the weight of spring

pick
picking on me

where dog shakes

lose burs

buying the murder weapon at the flee market

where you sir have reduced hill cathedral

too intense "noise machine"

fed up fine tuned processes process

years

Too do things

in the making

Confederate History Month

2010-04-10T17:14:00.000-07:00

You can pick up the severed limbs
while I leave the candles lit

between the shrubs of your glamor-is mothers
plantation

so that late at night you can see the
flicker from your window
and come to me
rap tap
tap tap
rap tap
tapping

maybe trimming my beard

or borrowing my etchings of a
large swamp monster bayoneting
Confederate war criminals

i will enjoy going barefoot on the catkins
believing with all my heart
that honest Abe was a real Marxist

2010-04-09T10:39:00.000-07:00

after tearing my radio apart
ill ponder what the high school jocks are doing in
the dark void of cornfields
surrounding the
wild blinking light
of the run down
cold war warning tower

How Sick we are

2010-04-04T12:50:00.000-07:00

I cant pull myself away from the televisions critique

of our multimedia

speed communication

obsessed technological culture

and before leaving the house I had to let you know about

stranger

from thousands of miles away

through the world wide web

Ozark Vetrans Etc

2010-04-03T21:24:00.000-07:00

ain't nothing good ever come outta Missoura

but southern patches of poplar ripe for the pickin

meeting my mother at noon to drop polka dotted roses on my horses grave

in the holler

see em again in that lumber mill central in the sky

where my marijuana grows like gangbusters

and I booby trap the perimeter

with skills i acquired in Vietnam

2010-03-20T12:57:00.000-07:00

with the sun cresting above the eastern cascades
the women next door shews the domesticated deer
from her lawn
recently landscaped with rocks
and cheesy modern art that she thinks is cute

2010-03-13T10:17:00.001-08:00

no soul
in high pines
but the constant threat of spring
occurring every other afternoon
Our greatest assets often fail us
as the moon sails between earth and star
leaving a small few of us laughing
why cant things be so easy?
as quiet sinking sky
embarrassing fresh ponderosa
"jeering at the funny animal"
we view the vantage point with retribution
maybe longing for flood
while the sick color of the moon
invokes in each
a selfish revolution

2010-02-28T21:35:00.000-08:00

water in the log jam
that Ive redirected
with my own two hands

I want a shit factory job
dwindling old growth into
toothpicks

Toothpicks are important
in the processes leading to the
fragmentation of opinions

i no longer know where to get my information
no longer have any relevant filters

I wanna walk home from the bar and
steal your flower pots
in the queer twinkling star light

make myself a five star breakfast with my own eggs
crank up the FOlk and
insult your choice in language

2010-02-27T13:25:00.000-08:00

a palmately veined leaf has fallen in to my bathtub
from a hole cut into my ceiling by my landlord I
in a drunken fit we had last night

after three games of risk, a bottle of Absolute,
and lecture on Swiss ski wood working

Sometimes......................

2010-02-25T14:18:00.000-08:00

Sometimes your Flak cannon wont shoot right
when the Germans near by are dropping bombs
on your special pine tree plantation

Sometimes your best friends break into your house
at 3 a.m.
and smoke all your drugs
with your homosexual step brother "Eric"
with a total disdain for your feelings and need for sleep

sometimes your sister locks you in the church
and you miss the parade you were supposed to march in
completely botching your chances of lettering in high school band

2010-02-22T23:23:00.000-08:00

2010-02-22T21:26:00.000-08:00

2010-02-22T21:14:00.000-08:00

2010-02-22T21:13:00.000-08:00

2010-02-22T21:06:00.000-08:00

2010-02-22T21:03:00.000-08:00

2010-02-22T20:48:00.000-08:00

911 911 911 911

2010-02-22T16:00:00.000-08:00

when the planes hit the towers on 911
I was asleep in my freshman German class
Our school which was under renovation was not attacked by terrorists on September 11th
but we heard about it on the radio
Our school was under renovation on sept 11th
so our class was in a empty house on the edge of the parking lot
Because of our high school being under construction our German class was held in a house near our school
If our school would have been attacked by terrorist on 911 my freshman german class and I would have had a better chance of surviving the terrorist attack

thoughts After reading an essay by Mike Cohen

2010-02-08T21:55:00.000-08:00

An Ecologically deep Ghost dance

Joining my afterlife to yours

Two hours carrying burden up hill

blindfolded in the strange shadow of Missouri

speechless in the spirit of nation

"we undress in front of old men"

Drinking vinegar at “third fire “

for ceremonies sake

“Ive decided against returning my library books”

they too

bother me

remind me again of earths true seral stage

I cant give that up

As I remedy wounds with mud

what ecosystem indicates us?

cement? 711?

our similarity to weeds enthrall me

Weeds dispense tyranny

hate returns to city
as invasive s out compete natives
Do you recall Cortez in Tenochtitlan?

Or the railroads annihilation of the Midwest's buffalo ?

The dirty genitals of Europe

enter the Americas
The advancement unstoppable

rant

2010-02-05T14:08:00.001-08:00

A.N. Whitehead once stated that “The major advances in civilizations are processes that all but wreck the societies in which they occur.”
Our lives are fragmented by our own creations……
technologies and trivial educations
our jobs, roles and niches in society are dependent on technology, and unknowns
The jack of all trades is dead
Perform your trade and only that
“The Chinese in the urinal cake factory “
“The food grown in the Midwest “ eaten by the Chinese
Our human abilities are being lost at an alarming rate to machines, and marginalization
We are here to run the assembly line
Someone to make the screw
someone to turn - the screw someone to make the screw driver and someone to manage
A ruling class has risen to trivial unneeded management positions
We glorify and pay useless positions
Bureaucracy trumps all
De pendant on unknown sources for our vital materials we lose The joy in life
Our crops in mono cultures the land beat down
Our education systems have failed
No one taught me how to live

We rejoice in the production of these , not the quick hoarding or them. The feeling that im involved Is necessary

Please 2

2010-02-04T22:35:00.000-08:00

Without knowing it
I’ve mapped The Redundant churches of my childhood
Lounged like a sprawling bitch in the pews
Un earthed coins from the cushions
and
Found my tiny representation boring
the tongue in the cheek
the nose to the grindstone
sharpened
Its Brown hair and eyes like my own you cherish
in matters so absolute we
start with my home as a model
fondle my burning porch in the early morning light

Please

2010-02-04T22:20:00.000-08:00

The Redundant redundancy of a modern city sinking
I’ve mapped my town like a sprawling web
Found my tiny representation
And Talked politics
Thumbed
Its Brown hair and eyes like my own
Plastic
scared
like some selfish prick
in and out of churches
schools
buffets

in matters such as scale this is an absolute
start my house on fire with its model

burn my hand on my melting figurine

An Aspen or Sycamore expanding

2010-01-26T20:38:00.000-08:00

The window from which i'm surveying
defines me
condensation holds
outlines of heavy breath
the magnitude of the sycamore this morning
(despite my best efforts)
will simply not leave
with the white evil of bumbling ghosts
or with father caught crunching leaves
for the sake of crunching's sake
casting autumn scowl
onto the adsorbing white void

A Poem For Toney McCrann by Rich Wyatt

2010-01-25T18:38:00.000-08:00

"The Soul, Addressing Itself, Wanders Around Right After Death" by Rich Wyatt

On so much of this ground you'll
find what the wasp buried, not much,
and the voice-bearing others whose names are lost. Who cares.
Hand me that spoon and that fork and we'll dig
for an hour, evening on our shoulders like an incentive,
a habit, the many molecules called stars
searching out a body under and over the always-black sea
we can't even now grasp like water from a rushing stream. Go
on and mention me to your friends, you'll have a time
explaining the lilac bushes so briefly attentive,
the season, too, over in a minute.
I stopped once and had coffee in Nick's, on 3rd Street.
I remember everyone's face there as my own, as I tapped
my fingernails on the window next to the booth, out of nervousness.

Beans

2010-01-22T01:05:00.000-08:00

ive left a can of lucky green beans on my microwave

To be honest I have had no intention of eating them today

nor will I tomorrow

time is cruel and gets crueler to all

but canned food

I walk backward towards my mattress

brushing my teeth and eyeing the southwest corner of my room

in which the radiation box sits in

its funny

but my space heater and microwave will not run at the same time

running them in such a reckless way often prompts

me to phone my land lord and have him "flip the breaker"

Eatting Snails

2010-01-08T10:40:00.000-08:00

any sequence of contours and lines
messed up or stored
dried solid between my muddy hand print
and woody snags
I want to believe
the river in winter
is as it was last June

when my brother baptized me
in the depths of the Missouri's murk
the disadvantages of the past spinning
nearly disappearing with pools of filth
from my beard

I am evil with age
growing this fervor
learning to love things more
or at any extant possible
and vanish ego in this
polluted river

Arson

2009-12-08T20:54:00.000-08:00

Dinner,
dead of winter,
half frozen,
thawing out in some szechuan wok in Oregon

I notice a painted blue bird mocking me
it being painted on my table
I ignore it, and order peanut butter chicken with crab cakes
and recollect the sweet bird calls that last spring brought me

the beginning of my seasonal work in the woods
the restlessness of winter over

this being December I find my self longing for May
back to square one
back to hibernation
forced into the cold wet struggle again

the branch the bird sits on blossoms
looming almost cynically
regardless of restaurant
regardless of my dull drums
a simple bird in tree painted on wood
who'd of thought
glazed with glossy varnish
beautiful even for a cheesy oriental depiction

i take wooden pencil to paper and try to record
change my words hopelessly around
the tree on the table
the pencil on the paper
speaking

who built this table?
who felled this tree?
what real birds graced this tree before?
and were they really blue?

im glad this table is here though
to support my plate
to create my poem on
to provide a surface for my pencil

maybe the same?

I enjoy the artists mock renditions of life against preserved polished board
this table is multipurpose
contains multitudes
its form and knots
a variable I cant understand
but informing me

now that I know this table is as interested in me
as I in it
id almost like to be there for its demise
ignite my small napkin with these etchings
set it free
make kindling of my pencil
and scorch the blue bird and its happy home

invite the artist,
lumber jack,
and carpenter
to watch our creation smoke and ash

up up up

into the harsh December sky

Shelter

2009-12-06T21:27:00.000-08:00

rock n' roll

"frozen beer"

"FUN"

''''fuck'''''

mythologists consider the current climate change occurring boring
We Found Your Current Phone, Address, Age & More with the help

of your father

stold your s.s.

"its funny how we learn antisocial behavior from a box we watch alone"

see these figures struggle with each-other
fade in and out

watch them watch tv
in the continuum

everything's a joke

27 Facts You Don't Know About Your own Personality

that we learned from your mother
today but maybe yesterday

we change

you have no idea when we acquired this

war

war

war
I wanna reenact a civil war reenactment alone
two years ago

in high school gym

I wanna show nature movies in nature

on the stairs

in or in the city u left

I wanna be a hero in your mock wedding

an exclamation

2009-12-05T23:34:00.000-08:00

Upon travel a great deal of preparation is required.
One must take on a multitude of items for secret consideration. Mix them up scramble them in our id, check them for validity.
Often, premeditated travel can cause illness, or even dramatic queasiness in our silly stomachs.

Buuuuuuuutterflyyyyyyyyyy's caaaa-tippleeeeeeeeeeers creeeeepy craaaaaaaaawlers.

Never the less we appear completely different
to different individuals through out the different locations that make up our lives. You seem distant around your father, and he childish around his.
Its absurd to even compare our petty travels to our ancestors or maybe even the pioneers epic excursions .
Though what ive gathered so far is consistent with their gripes this constant contradicting of myself is only proving my point.

This stated our individual self importance and petty pursuits guide us differently.
An individual must decided for themselves a destination on which to quest , and later commit a reasonable arrival to. Said location being far or near, across
choppy ocean or next door on the neighbors TV. With out commitment we stay sedentary and complacent in our own bubbles. Observers,
Starving in our fathers robes and our siblings pajamas comatose d with cartoons.

Other items before migration are necessary for consideration too.
A reliable mode of transportation must be obtained, of course
legally or frantically, the previous preferably than the latter.
Goodbyes and hellos are inevitable ,travel currency a necessity and equal burden.
The spread of highway and land under our feet requires other resources. Effecting our mood and motivation or peer groups.
Often these are acquired from the very land we travel above. Metal to graft our automobiles, food to energize
our body's to navigate our wills.
We alone understand what we are willing to surrender, in order to move in our multitude of different ways.
The Banter and talk of travel is ancient, almost primal in the sense that we build our relationships on present location, and

ego on our future place in it. We travel to acquire goods, we acquire goods to travel.
To settle is certain death, a certain surrender to the landscapes that haunt our animal self's.
Must we live where we shit, where our elders drown?

A constant relation to ourselves through movement is required for survival .
What makes us human, at best is what makes us the better animal.

What we lack in feeling we gain in ability, to settle land is not to neglect our love, but sharpen it until dullness.

Illusion of certainty leads to a fanaticism with self. Fanaticism is not fascination ill prove it to you.
We are told one leads us we are told the other tunes us.

I assure you Everett new such topics of misfortune more than I.Maybe he could lecture for hours, or even write on it.
Later I may relate to you how this relates to me, but for now I feel
a brief history of Everrets romps will better suit my agenda. My agenda being the purpose of everything I create and everywhere I go.
My agenda being the same as my grandfathers and his fathers before him.

At a young age Jasper was placed by his father into an orphanage. This being a major travesty in any young mans life it shall be
further explained. Jasper's father being
a poor farmer in western Nebraska he had experienced a rough go at things to say the least. Just

recently abandoned by his wife his incapability at fathering had just begun shown through like never before. A steady diet of
booze and barn burning had occupied his thoughts for the latter years but acting upon his fantasy's was beyond the timid church
going mans grasps. Further more frowned upon by his stern Goliath german mother

2009-12-02T19:15:00.000-08:00

Perhaps
to twist the wire and drive the posts

is indicative of
our pastures
harsh treatment

with untitled castle

(beating death)

mocking mother

tonight is tonight left forever

we make our pilgrimage a pilgrimage

with the many parts that make up our bones

mere stones slapped together by weather

mere shapes designed with glory

my French counterpart (done) with me

a selfish

FEMALE

bewildered with heart in sack

finished my

mix of tools for grandpa

to build fence with

to twist the wire and drive the posts

Perhaps

2009-12-02T16:31:00.000-08:00

to twist the wire and drive the posts
Burned out
harsh treatment

with untitled castle

(beating death)

mocking mother

tonight is tonight left forever

we make our pilgrimage a pilgrimage

with the many parts that make up our bones

mere stones slapped together by weather

mere shapes designed with glory

my French counterpart (done) with me

a selfish

FEMALE

bewildered with heart in sack

finished my

mix of tools for grandpa

to build fence with

to twist the wire and drive the posts

Burnt out

2009-12-02T16:24:00.000-08:00

Burn out
harsh treatment redirected

tonight is tonight left forever

we make our pilgrimage a pilgrimage

(beating death)

mocking mother

with untitled castle

and the many parts that make up our bones

mere stones slapped together by weather

mere shapes designed with glory

my French counterpart (done) left me a selfish

FEMALE

bewildered with heart in sack

finished my

mix of tools for grandpa

to build fence with

to twist the wire and drive the posts

Burn out

2009-12-02T16:07:00.000-08:00

harsh treatment redirected

tonight and tonight left forever

we make our pilgrimage a pilgrimage (beating death)

mocking mother
with untitled castle

and the many parts that make up our bones

mere stones shaped by weather

mere shapes designed for glory

my French counterpart (done) left us selfish

FEMALE

bewildered with heart in sack

finished my

mix of tools for grandpa

to build fence with

to twist the wire and drive the posts

its ok im a saint

2009-11-19T22:09:00.000-08:00

a partitioned box and measurable hoax

I meant to leave home sooner

through out those escapees

who were unorthodox-ed

and also in the muddy streets

characterized by hearsay

and black impulse in toe

now and again stuck between the meadows curs

where immense heritage and forlorn past met

learned the pacifist pain in the good morning

structure weighing on me wholly

upright

my sainthood questioned

Briefing

2009-11-18T19:08:00.000-08:00

Approach that which examines
A well calculated beneficiary
Shades where of Some ponderer
lowered by October 1950 perhaps the more suitable areas where over due cover over
were alter fun in eyes
regret the easy making
of the system non noticeable
of disturbance which one could cure the crossroad village

"""""""""""sexy witch"""""""""""

The second spot visited west of the university
In which phantoms appeared
disheveled
some possibly where not controlled
some probably were
With the help of a lot healthier things than the previous ones
sought after
by blank ecosystem travel
by bull frog plague
swamp resembled
the same drought
that planned to advance itself with
the walking of strings

mammoth delphiniums in November

2009-11-14T19:33:00.000-08:00

remove whats left from the suitcase
place the items in the sink
bury it all in suds in the mid afternoon

regret leaving

damp
socks, ties, and a handguns

loaded

but not lost in the soup

dusting the mantle madam
dust the mantle

flawlessly

where the horse head lamp glistens
under which I split my head on Christmas

a knight sharpening me with

blood settling on presents

my new Lego fortress set ruined

give up on the dishes from yesterday
give up on the fucking dishes today

" spent the entire day on this"

your new concussion

your old mantra

made sure we laughed when the cock sucking was through

the lawyers were paid

conclusions and cars scraped

and the big brick chimneys were reduced to rubble

grandfather clock too

"i want you to stare at me all the way through the mirror"

my weak eyes will not put on a performance without inspiration

nor will we be reaping the benefits without distraction this evening

I touch the museums stockings at night

feel up the various velvet dividers

separating the public from other mammoths

I pray for the skeletons to appear in my breakfast nook

join me for coffee

man handle my toast with calcium

they can watch me eat my captain crunch too

the dead are the dead are the dead

even with sugar

but who will ring the bells with such sought after sorrow?

who will chase down the midnight wavelengths with me?

from perfect alimony

or fanatics drive ways

where was it that we could hang out our cloths?

ten stories up
one window to the left
two floors down
Catty corner to delusion
where the delphiniums hang slightly out the windows

and there figures project shadows on the sidewalk

I would speak for such ornamental s if they needed me

one quick spread of sarcasm

with my dirty Midwestern tongue

Wallace Stevens six Significant Landscapes

2009-10-31T13:29:00.000-07:00

Share |

Six Significant Landscapes

I
An old man sits
In the shadow of a pine tree
In China.
He sees larkspur,
Blue and white,
At the edge of the shadow,
Move in the wind.
His beard moves in the wind.
The pine tree moves in the wind.
Thus water flows
Over weeds.

II
The night is of the colour
Of a woman's arm:
Night, the female,
Obscure,
Fragrant and supple,
Conceals herself.
A pool shines,
Like a bracelet
Shaken in a dance.

III
I measure myself
Against a tall tree.
I find that I am much taller,
For I reach right up to the sun,
With my eye;
And I reach to the shore of the sea
With my ear.
Nevertheless, I dislike
The way ants crawl
In and out of my shadow.

IV
When my dream was near the moon,
The white folds of its gown
Filled with yellow light.
The soles of its feet
Grew red.
Its hair filled
With certain blue crystallizations
From stars,
Not far off.

V
Not all the knives of the lamp-posts,
Nor the chisels of the long streets,
Nor the mallets of the domes
And high towers,
Can carve
What one star can carve,
Shining through the grape-leaves.

VI
Rationalists, wearing square hats,
Think, in square rooms,
Looking at the floor,
Looking at the ceiling
.
They confine themselves
To right-angled triangles.
If they tried rhomboids,
Cones, waving lines, ellipses --
As, for example, the ellipse of the half-moon --
Rationalists would wear sombreros.

BITCH

2009-10-12T12:36:00.000-07:00

yellow flannel
holding books about bats

your too kinds of scary

your old news now
prob went back to Nursing school sick
black and white photo bop
glasses over nose
white shallow shell

read me deep into the night

Autumn Begins in Martins Ferry, Ohio by James Wright

2009-09-06T08:10:00.000-07:00

In the Shreve High football stadium,
I think of Polacks nursing long beers in Tiltonsville,
And gray faces of Negroes in the blast furnace at Benwood,
And the ruptured night watchman of Wheeling Steel,
Dreaming of heroes.

All the proud fathers are ashamed to go home.
Their women cluck like starved pullets,
Dying for love.

Therefore,
Their sons grow suicidally beautiful
At the beginning of October,
And gallop terribly against each other's bodies.

Take Up Thy Stethoscope

2009-08-27T19:16:00.000-07:00

my friends been served papers

I TRIED TO RUN DEFENSE

AWNSWERED THE DOOR AND SHIT

overdose at a hospital two yEARS AGO

ANIMAL PLANET PUT ON FOR YOUR COME DOWN WILL COST YOU

CALL THOSE FUCKERS UP AND GIVE THEM SOME MONEY

THESE FUCKERS DONT KNOW WHO THEIR DEALING WITH

Conclave

2009-07-25T18:55:00.000-07:00

Deathly startled by whom who may ride

This evening’s curses

Caresses subtle shore

My mind connects Hawaii via driven orphan trains
For some reason
Beneath Cartographer bones

A prairie
skewed us in dust
dry glasses in route

To rob

Farmers
Without ammunition
Of half truths

who hitched rides to Hawaii
in the hot air balloon morning

before the Japanese could even conceive a sneak attack

sweet Everett swam ashore

so I could be born

avoided search lights and family

as his mother did too

Black Widow

2009-06-04T19:30:00.001-07:00

Latrodectus hesperus
We have no pitty
Pored out onto equestrians
outhouse
and smashed
No Abdominal pain
but with headache in toilet rolls

red hourglass Idled turnings of you
identified in books
on black arachnid
To coax you into bottle
Took patience
survived the cleaning only to appear
unscathed Inches before my two hands

Trouble

2009-05-18T21:23:00.000-07:00

Houses like this choose to wear
Either way suits us and or all of us

They want it

The house
Worn or not worn

“it” as in the tenants

Covered slithering smooth

regardless
The tenants are bound to be

Cursed

Imagine a tenant such as yourself without house but with poem

Aloof under
gutters
singing in the shower

Worn inside out or like slippers and robe in the gorgeous yard
With Easter lilies
Beat by Bubbles and stones thrown at siding

Family forlorn with like lost pets

Salvage

2009-05-04T18:19:00.000-07:00

Juniper junking midday

Jasper in the well

drowns

Words explain to me how Humboldt cut

Fade in with

bearded men in desperation

log me too

chop

before I become relentless

his oxygen bottle breaths and stretches

the magnetic crane clamps up the steal

effortlessly

I enjoy how it separates the metals from each other

The aluminum left below

The trailer left on the ground

NEBRASKA CITY NEBRASKA

2009-02-21T04:45:00.000-08:00

NEBRASKA CITY NEBRASKA
I am making maps
I don’t want to make no more maps of Oregon mama!
I want to make maps of home
I want maps of corn mazes !
and railroad tracks I’ve pissed on
railroad tracks I’ve given into stubbornly
houses I’ve drank booze in deservingly
Ill make these maps in my head one at a time

scratching my beardwhile the time continues accordingly

Im in no means consumed
By the carelessness of time
shapes appearing
recklessly
hanging on to these splints

I Organize them into packs
hoped to organized them into stanzas
while naysayers observed

but the gathering of needs i needed exemplified
in Februarys stale motionless depiction of Jesus’ s cross
In John Falter’s grand daughter Sierra's Kiss
amongst his down town glorifications
of Christmas time in Falls City
his jeep carrying Doug fir in the midst
Of the few fascists

Jews jews jews
Saved in the mid west

And I ponder its 200 years of existence
selfishly
while my German grandfather burry’s the bodies of Americans
gray hairs
during World War One

his whereabouts
concealed
not knowing what it means
to be a
torn up immigrant
by the light of day
parents marriage in poverty

by my parents churn of un human clamber
after one month of love

marriage failing at 39 years of artlessness
sick first year in Nebraska
sex ending in disparity
holding on
to nothing

hiding in Emmitt Kelly’s
antics

our children are
resorting
to these tree’s magnitude
and grandeur
exemplifying these trees I trust in
the Ozarks leaving us

Susan waiting for the dead
SUSAN where I was born
and driven home in mini vans
with my sisters concerned

Rolla Missouri
To the Willamette valley scattered

22 years
amongst
my wineries
and shame

where wilderness
on Christmas eve
comes bearing gifts in the morning

viewed by my friends as flattering
returning boys who murdered my next of kin
my dog buried
in the reservoirs

willingly sinking
climbing these steeples of our fathers churches
ignoring threats
and burgeons
of these three distant chimes of the catholic churches bells

old fishermen crucified by the
Joy in the world
solemn in thetelevisions glare

crucifix hanging between my V-neck
and my t- shirt’ s chest
where the burns I received on
Easter morning ruin my
drunken neighbors wifes ceremonies

and my fathers half assed attempts at reconstruction
are astonishing

romances half conceived ends
while money is laundered
by the stale glare of the hospitals
light poles
you poured your heart out
Through your window shades and glares
you told me you were a saint

sorry Your father was a recruiter
I too young too heed the call
For religion and or war
to young to hear
The guttural yearnings of
the hemlocks end job on Socrates
The Endless doubt of
Descartes
becoming my own

Genetics

2009-02-06T23:05:00.000-08:00

upon leaving I fell ill
books and sunsets held against ones shoulders
deceiving
piercing blight before dawn
amongst 100 harvests
and attempts
failed at family gatherings perceived in tune
below and above floors
where grandfather once ate his dinner
solemnly
and peered out his window at what burdened him
and what would later burden me

Step brothers

2009-01-28T14:35:00.000-08:00

your gonna have to borrow someone else
well i cant go anymore
to mountain tops
im bleeding
its really important
the dirt man
i just want to use it for a few days.

i'd even give you a key to our house
don't fret man

it's not my problem, and dont throw in my parents school
my priority is to not evolve my life in with the time your in and
around your secret places

Listen I know this was kinda rude and im sorry, but you're gonna have to think of something else, hell buy another bad one or two

that bad.......you can go ahead and get pissed but its not going to change the situation
in Kansas

2009-01-13T23:52:00.000-08:00

steamboats return me vividly
with the wicked
without methroughout Peru and Brownville
where
the oldest town in Nebraska blinks
wine and whisky
thrown down dangerously
setting the quiet and small bookstores up for disaster
amongst the cool January wish wash
and the new years day dreams

2009-01-10T14:13:00.000-08:00

my cup is full
but bile words remain
with the wrecking of cars in snow
winged tipped avenger
winning
bile words
punched by friends
amoungst warm winters
for the use of
the wrecking of cars in snow
sheltering strangers
my cup
sheltering ill actions
leaving only to return to previous places left
by plane
but bile words remain

2009-01-06T16:04:00.000-08:00

A TREE I INTEND ON VISITING

2008-12-30T22:37:00.002-08:00

A day spent waiting
a marked man of sorts
tall dark and handsome
giant sequoia looking murderous
in the magazine

women must realize they like tall things
tallest of all
but by volume mostly
one may reflect upon ones small place in nature
if one must
in the eyes of women
and or trees

not to mention the endless changing of magnificence in a trees foliage
like dresses or bras
panty hose or partners

There was something staggering in General Shermans disregard for the souths landscapes

but for large Sequoias to inhabit the north they must be grown at certain elevations

and at 7,500 feet this sequoia belt lies mostly within protected forests
which northern generals are not presently allowed too burn

A TREE I INTEND ON VISITING

2008-12-30T22:37:00.001-08:00

A TREE I INTEND ON VISITING

A day spent waiting
a marked man of sorts
tall dark and handsome
giant sequoia looking murderous
in the magazine

women must realize they like tall things
tallest of all
but by volume mostly
one may reflect upon ones small place in nature
if one must
in the eyes of women
and or trees

not to mention the endless changing of magnificence in a trees foliage
like dresses or bras
panty hose or partners

There was something staggering in General Shermans disregard for the souths landscapes

but for large Sequoias to inhabit the north they must be grown at certain elevations

and at 7,500 feet this sequoia belt lies mostly within protected forests
which northern generals are not presently allowed too burn

Last Thoughts On Woody Guthrie- Bob Dylan

2008-12-29T10:36:00.000-08:00

When yer head gets twisted and yer mind grows numb
When you think you're too old, too young, too smart or too dumb
When yer laggin' behind an' losin' yer pace
In a slow-motion crawl of life's busy race
No matter what yer doing if you start givin' up
If the wine don't come to the top of yer cup
If the wind's got you sideways with with one hand holdin' on
And the other starts slipping and the feeling is gone
And yer train engine fire needs a new spark to catch it
And the wood's easy findin' but yer lazy to fetch it
And yer sidewalk starts curlin' and the street gets too long
And you start walkin' backwards though you know its wrong
And lonesome comes up as down goes the day
And tomorrow's mornin' seems so far away
And you feel the reins from yer pony are slippin'
And yer rope is a-slidin' 'cause yer hands are a-drippin'
And yer sun-decked desert and evergreen valleys
Turn to broken down slums and trash-can alleys
And yer sky cries water and yer drain pipe's a-pourin'
And the lightnin's a-flashing and the thunder's a-crashin'
And the windows are rattlin' and breakin' and the roof tops a-shakin'
And yer whole world's a-slammin' and bangin'
And yer minutes of sun turn to hours of storm
And to yourself you sometimes say
"I never knew it was gonna be this way
Why didn't they tell me the day I was born"
And you start gettin' chills and yer jumping from sweat
And you're lookin' for somethin' you ain't quite found yet
And yer knee-deep in the dark water with yer hands in the air
And the whole world's a-watchin' with a window peek stare
And yer good gal leaves and she's long gone a-flying
And yer heart feels sick like fish when they're fryin'
And yer jackhammer falls from yer hand to yer feet
And you need it badly but it lays on the street
And yer bell's bangin' loudly but you can't hear its beat
And you think yer ears might a been hurt
Or yer eyes've turned filthy from the sight-blindin' dirt
And you figured you failed in yesterdays rush
When you were faked out an' fooled white facing a four flush
And all the time you were holdin' three queens
And it's makin you mad, it's makin' you mean
Like in the middle of Life magazine
Bouncin' around a pinball machine
And there's something on yer mind you wanna be saying
That somebody someplace oughta be hearin'
But it's trapped on yer tongue and sealed in yer head
And it bothers you badly when your layin' in bed
And no matter how you try you just can't say it
And yer scared to yer soul you just might forget it
And yer eyes get swimmy from the tears in yer head
And yer pillows of feathers turn to blankets of lead
And the lion's mouth opens and yer staring at his teeth
And his jaws start closin with you underneath
And yer flat on your belly with yer hands tied behind
And you wish you'd never taken that last detour sign
And you say to yourself just what am I doin'
On this road I'm walkin', on this trail I'm turnin'
On this curve I'm hanging
On this pathway I'm strolling, in the space I'm taking
In this air I'm inhaling
Am I mixed up too much, am I mixed up too hard
Why am I walking, where am I running
What am I saying, what am I knowing
On this guitar I'm playing, on this banjo I'm frailin'
On this mandolin I'm strummin', in the song I'm singin'
In the tune I'm hummin', in the words I'm writin'
In the words that I'm thinkin'
In this ocean of hours I'm all the time drinkin'
Who am I helping, what am I breaking
What am I giving, what am I taking
But you try with your whole soul best
Never to think these thoughts and never to let
Them kind of thoughts gain ground
Or make yer heart pound
But then again you know why they're around
Just waiting for a chance to slip and drop down
"Cause sometimes you hear'em when the night times comes creeping
And you fear that they might catch you a-sleeping
And you jump from yer bed, from yer last chapter of dreamin'
And you can't remember for the best of yer thinking
If that was you in the dream that was screaming
And you know that it's something special you're needin'
And you know that there's no drug that'll do for the healin'
And no liquor in the land to stop yer brain from bleeding
And you need something special
Yeah, you need something special all right
You need a fast flyin' train on a tornado track
To shoot you someplace and shoot you back
You need a cyclone wind on a stream engine howler
That's been banging and booming and blowing forever
That knows yer troubles a hundred times over
You need a Greyhound bus that don't bar no race
That won't laugh at yer looks
Your voice or your face
And by any number of bets in the book
Will be rollin' long after the bubblegum craze
You need something to open up a new door
To show you something you seen before
But overlooked a hundred times or more
You need something to open your eyes
You need something to make it known
That it's you and no one else that owns
That spot that yer standing, that space that you're sitting
That the world ain't got you beat
That it ain't got you licked
It can't get you crazy no matter how many
Times you might get kicked
You need something special all right
You need something special to give you hope
But hope's just a word
That maybe you said or maybe you heard
On some windy corner 'round a wide-angled curve

But that's what you need man, and you need it bad
And yer trouble is you know it too good
"Cause you look an' you start getting the chills

"Cause you can't find it on a dollar bill
And it ain't on Macy's window sill
And it ain't on no rich kid's road map
And it ain't in no fat kid's fraternity house
And it ain't made in no Hollywood wheat germ
And it ain't on that dimlit stage
With that half-wit comedian on it
Ranting and raving and taking yer money
And you thinks it's funny
No you can't find it in no night club or no yacht club
And it ain't in the seats of a supper club
And sure as hell you're bound to tell
That no matter how hard you rub
You just ain't a-gonna find it on yer ticket stub
No, and it ain't in the rumors people're tellin' you
And it ain't in the pimple-lotion people are sellin' you
And it ain't in no cardboard-box house
Or down any movie star's blouse
And you can't find it on the golf course
And Uncle Remus can't tell you and neither can Santa Claus
And it ain't in the cream puff hair-do or cotton candy clothes
And it ain't in the dime store dummies or bubblegum goons
And it ain't in the marshmallow noises of the chocolate cake voices
That come knockin' and tappin' in Christmas wrappin'
Sayin' ain't I pretty and ain't I cute and look at my skin
Look at my skin shine, look at my skin glow
Look at my skin laugh, look at my skin cry
When you can't even sense if they got any insides
These people so pretty in their ribbons and bows
No you'll not now or no other day
Find it on the doorsteps made out-a paper mache

IM GONNA STICK AROUND FOR AWHILE

2008-12-23T23:53:00.000-08:00

Does my resemblance match my previous one?
Only other people change
I don’t
I take cars places only to return by foot
I take care in my
belief that things return themselves to things themselves
and for the magazines to say that the latest model is perfect and profound
is irritating
For I’ve designed it
my big bureaucracy finding itself not sufficient
and a I
a big joke and
a big government increasing elder care and abuse profoundly
in the retirement homes
next to gorgeous brooks
babbling like television talk shows
like wheel chair blues churning
powered by pills and free will
turned by the loss of the family farm into
walmart coffee shop oil change parking lots
I wish someone would take up where they left off
the sting of resentment in the dull drums of retirement
a great silence at a church pot luck
who stole the offering plates?
Who placed dollar signs beneath christ our lord?

free wine

2008-12-06T17:32:00.000-08:00

Saw my professor drunk
at the wine tasting
big white beard and flannel judging me
while
at the broken down farm house
I encounter glowing orbs
Asking questions
“ how many acres in a quarter section?”
Incapacitating those who answer incorrectly

In Minneapolis with three sociopaths

2008-12-01T16:10:00.000-08:00

the art museum was a sham
you laid on your back
belittling the paint blotches
and steel sculptures

spiting on my boots pretending to be cute
lifting your dress to gain reactions

after showing your women hood
you left me sneering in the video Installation room

The Snow and the remains of this autumn
Flashing by in a whirl of grey

More drinks to counter act previous drinks
to Complement the afternoon
You proclaim

Contemplating the ills in which we had committed the previous evening
I find you in the court yard
do you remember the red wine stains you made
getting sick on the hotel linens?

professed your love and readiness for my sister
making a
drunken mess of each other at restaurants

surviving multiple elevator rides
blurting profanities like Champions
you pull me in
cursing each others love and taste for viciousness
we sleep in the car

Mascara

2008-11-28T22:49:00.000-08:00

Mascara
Blowing acorns out of the trees bandit eyes!
Its you bandit eyes
high with the sun in the afternoon
you and I like brothers
buried under an oak
stricken with cholera
perched high above the river
hovering
if one could only listen
if one could only understand
what the stark white tree skeletons had to say
in the warm scantily clad September evening
your eyes are eyes
bandit eyes
in song the boundless aches of the heart
in the distancea large woodpile
a hound with a pleasant howl
tactlessly treeing an animal pleasing its master
big brown beautifulbandit eyes !
would the drilled holes in the hedge bring youreyes to tears bandit eyes?
eyes are eyes none the less
and your still Three sheets two the wind
roaming these hills
spanning an area from the bird cage bridge
to the windmill and cabin at hack berry hollow
where the warm cocoon once emergedand slowly slipped me into sleep
some where frozen amongst coyotes and coons
snow leaving the logs helpless

how I used up all my text msg

2008-11-24T21:02:00.000-08:00

11/13/2008
Dunno low on cash

11/13/2008 659 pm
Hit me up sometime for a drinky drink

11/15/2008 139 pm
you still at that fucking tea place?

11/15/2008 228 PM
your success depends on your succesfulness

11/15/2008 234 PM
Id kill for a BIG RED PARTY

11/15/2008 427 PM
start driving up here

11/15/2008 740 PM
hey Parker can I talk too you?

11/15/2008 839 PM
BARS?

11/15/2008 850 PM
you called?

11/15/2008 904 PM
I wanna drink with ya

11/15/2008 924 PM
My room

11/15/2008 925PM
vvvwhatt????

11/16/2008 241 AM
your real cute ill talk to
you when im not drunk
and all philosophical

11/16/2008 1247 PM
she dont like her eggs all runny
she thinks crossing her legs is funny

11/16/2008 115 PM
did we talk about god and shit last night?
o noooo

11/16/2008 203 PM
after some deep contimplation and some real
soul searching my stance on america has not changed
I most def pro American

11/16/2008 558 PM
at the LIB whats up?

11/17/2008 1247 PM
Nudez and flight wheel

11/17/2008 843 PM
huh?

11/17/2008 900PM
kinda wanna drink

11/18/2008 1000 PM
watchin the cool hand luke dare boss

2008-11-23T15:10:00.000-08:00

11/11/2008 508 PM
Hey ryan! are you having a good tuesday?

11/11/2008 840 PM
whats up?

11/12/2008 804 pm
Poetry at eight?

11/13/2008 349PM
Bye all I will miss you see wu sunday

11/13/2008 543 PM
Oh hey man :) just got out of class. Good timing
Nothing really just on my way home. What up?

11/13/2008 625 PM
You alive?

11/13/2008 700 PM
Hell yeah! what are you doing tonight?

Richard William Jenkins and family

2008-11-16T16:58:00.000-08:00

Regarding Ed Harris's renovation of his train Depot

2008-11-12T22:25:00.000-08:00

Daniel took me to the depot and rattled me with his fathers rail road stories
hoped to envision the click clack of the Union Pacific

hoped to see the ghost switch men’s
lantern appear in a stranded box car or maybe an abused caboose

big empty boxes
betraying the dusty ground
with steel and peeling paint

in the afternoon
the depot would bustle
hammering in the attic
weary glances into the cellar

crumbling roof made from
red clay shingles
vines climbing the shady side
hired men napping under itat lunch

Once we raced these trains with our schwinns
lobbing rocks like bandits
envisioned our self’s as hobos
pretening to be on the run

as we played
Daniels father filled the empty halls with lumber and swears
stacking cinder blocks in the cellar
To protect the foundation of what he loved
And what he had left of the past

Moody Affairs with the Country side

2008-11-05T20:14:00.000-08:00

Fantastic blues and everything is still ruined
I spend my mornings grumbling at ghosts
whilst Viciously picking up distress signals from my neighbors barn
What has it seen?
Does it know something I don’t?
Does moonlight skip within its corridors when no ones around?
I myself am still sick with moonlight
Wild birds as reckless as me in my morning stupor
Wild birds and she’s still picking flowers
Approaching goldenrod with caution
Avoiding the hanging of cloths in the frail breeze
Her Black hair gracing me in the sunlit afternoon
As the sky develops in cloud bursts
and the country side needs her reflection more than I
For I’ve been climbing trees looking for silhouettes for days
God given wits about me
howling while floating above Bur Oaks in the evening
Why cant the trees auburn colors be perpetual?
Why must I rely only on smoke signals to contact friends in cities?
Friends whose expressions preserved the still Kansas plains in me
Friends whose combines churned my endless doldrums into dust
Causing midnight itself to groan
Fantastic Bluesand im finding myself worshiping arachnids more often
Painstakingly praying to Genes in hollows
Absently Staring at light in windows
Windows of the seven houses im afraid of
houses whose invitations were shattering
now nestled between river bluffs and hills
Built by the nameless forsaken by the thoughtless
Must one only be concerned with Ghosts and birds in past lives?
Must one concern themselves with other things?
I will continue to Concern myself with the houses im afraid of
Or even the ships on my fathers wall
Stranded but graceful
stationary
but there

Self righteous son of a bitch

2008-11-03T00:33:00.001-08:00

just Thursday collected samples of vine maple
in the park

slept with a feminist
and ate meat in front of vegetarians

ran downtown with Teddy
avoided his advances
and bought none of my own drinks

should have realized
I should have left sooner
with the tattooed women
sitting next to me
her
with green eyes on her hands
and a pierced chest

picked up friends from parties with broken arms
and insulted their intelligence
put their lives in danger
on command and on the spot

did not impress Maxine with my lack hip hop
ability

waved down police only to be arrested
and bashed against drunk tank floors
with strangers

self rightous

2008-11-03T00:10:00.000-08:00

Collected Vine Leaf Maple just last Thursday
decided to stick with what im sticken with

slept with a feminist

ate meat in front of the vegetarians

waved down police cars
and was
arrested for it

left friends for dead
and
hid paraphernalia

hardly impressed Maxine
by not dancing to the hip hip hop hop

picked up by friends from parties with broken arms
and vomit scars
insulted there intelligence
and risked their lives
on purpose
and on command

ran downtown with Teddy
brushed into bars
bought none of my own drinks
made excuses
avoided advances by men
and disappointed him

digested drugs
left with tattooed women
disappointed gays with my indulgence
of trashey women

regretted not leaving sooner
hid from the eyes on her hands
didnt know id enjoy hands on arms

ate with married couples
and played board games with there children

woke up and sobbed
regreting my lack of
less imorality

summary of recent letters and phone calls

2008-10-26T22:02:00.000-07:00

Received word my mothers picking apples with poets again
Fresh breeze
and a glance of the loess hills
cause
the apples to scatter
beneath her sixty year old feet
Apples aging too

While legends here are making a mess of things
friends are dipping in
slowly agreeing
Drinking to much
Proclaiming truth
Portraying unjust demeanors
Portraying what once was

How would you know?
Pompous old man
Would you not understand the buildings built into my upbringing?
John Falters paintings
The shoppers
The decorations down town
made from holly

jeeps
Run down and dangerous at the
Ye-Olde time tavern
Anhydrous buried in the Christmas trees

Nebraska have other men scrawled their names on your school houses
as ive been absent?
left me with motorcycle dreams and hangovers
water towers and elementry schools
left my friend Jake with a baby boy and a trampled dream
must you always tell us what to do?
must the slackers and make believers at the gas stations
proclaim us friends
sobbing stoned in Jack Genes shed
with old men
drunk with your car keys
with machine shed blues
sitting pretty
sluggishly unscathed