Meeting at the River / Gall of Fortune to Hit

Gall, of fortune but not of froth/

Wrath to be had in the river of time but not

Where it sits, naturally, decadently.

There is no awl or owl or whatthefuck in this river.

Swim a-shyly and dawn on the crest of the rabbit hole that you

Were a weed in the sunset drippings of my towellette

Don’t forget we met at the Sundance Festival.

Now, now…

Now, I know how it is to be a playful thing

No one wants to go where the natural sets in stead of the synthetic

Too drawn-out and loathsome to be meaningful

Tacks litter the landscape

Drool drips to the floor

Less Than Apocalypse

Lesser than

A loose horse

Lesser than

The tidal waves

I am immersed in Other

-iness

-erlyness

I digress

 

The vindictum is oft chopped at the fore

And to be honest… sometimes at the aft

We all have honest hobbies

There’s no one to hunt

 

I’m not on the market

But for computational work

Sorry

Sorry

I hung up

 

Last drink of the night?

Yeah, then I’m heading home

Well drive safe

The apocalypse makes some drivers crazy

Save Me, Monks

Beauregard come save me

I am in the monk’s order

Training

I want to be one of the monks

I wish to have steely reserve nerves and

A punch like a brick

Come save me, monks

I won’t look down on you

Whether you like it or not

I won’t be at your side

Bandaging you

Ever

Dead Horizon As Yet of Unknown, Once Again

Please start music before proceeding to read poem for full experience:

 

 

I don’t know if putting this here will maximize the value

I’m all for optimization

But do I have any other choice?

 

Back in the day–think Ancient Greece–you had to go to great lengths to become a leader

It was one in too many who broke through

Now they sell leadership certificates through common coursework by the dozen

Who wants to be a leader?

Just take a class.

 

One kick in too many asses

I’m not trying to gross anyone out

I’m just playing the imitation game

Decoding my own mind’s electrophysiological functions

I’m the laziest I’ve ever been

I won’t ever make it

 

This terminates the creative train of thought

Who strains backwards and forward for a schiff of wheat

I’m not learning anything

I am a dead end

 

Without being too dreary

The overcoming won’t come for me

I’m in the underclear

Narry a dander light on the horizon

Narry my mellow father mother son

 

Dandruff n shampoo

Peak-a-boo

 

Dandruff n shampoo

Peak-a-boo


I’m sorry guys! Time dilation! I realized the poem is too short–that it took longer to write it than it does to read it, and therefore it is not “in sync” with la musique. Apologies possible extension in the future.

Aye! My Hospitality

I have a limitless supply of words

But no one to publish them

My hospitality is gross

I denounce

Aye! I denounce

Enunciation and

Plausibility

Forthright persecution

Guillotine

And candy was served

Well

The president knows…

So we’d better gather our crab claws

And hustle on out of this space

To a new plane

A mesomorphic pretense in Italy

The Riviera

My home

I have no home

No one does

We are all

Travelers

In

A dinosaur’s

Fecal matter.

Neighbors

New York full of oil

Cumulative weekly decomposition

Marred in fright the Twitter feed deposits me

Or on me?

A light layer of surfactant

or

miscible liquids

In sheen form

From

My neighbors.

Hum. Hum. Hum neighbors.

N o o n e q u i t e q u a l i f i e s

for this life

For this brigade

For his propaganda

I’m met with the resilience of constant discomfiture

Ah! well

What can I say

The banana’s on top

This has no meaning

I’m just a neighbor too

Ambient

Not listening to music

Is a form of music

And I won’t bore you with birdsong

Or romance somnolence

I am an instigator

The flow is nigh

Crystalline, hero

Singing chorus for

On on on

To little still partitions in my acoustic center

Little spill there

The sound of the lake

Surrounded by the whisper of (catch it) trees.

Indistillate Nature / I Am One

Everyone hates me

Everyone shout

Lose your inhibitions

Release the verbiage

Trash

Trash on the streets

Nipple milk

Sidling up to my pa(re)nts

Naught

Sibilant

Filigree

Unbeknownst

I am longer than my own face

Who said that?

Question

To the foreground

Judge and fortune

Crack all the vase

Wine poureth forth

Indistillate nature

I am one

a story

I owe you guys something lengthier and heartfelt. I don’t feel to bad so ironically it will be a bit more difficult. Okay here we go.


Many years

Of draining the sink

Many stinking years

Of diapers and papertowels

Wet kitchen floors

No one knew

He gave up on me before it was out in the open

I cradled your thumb for the last time

The head anchor says we can’t be together anymore

This isn’t about me

This isn’t about me

I’m the one

In contradiction

So fell

So flawed

Careful

You might fall


Oh well, I tried.