the yoke runs free

6 Oct

it’s night time, but it feels like day.puddle 001 (3)
maybe it’s the still air.
there aren’t many stars to see,
but spiders make webs.
i feel ’em in my hair.
there’s probably meat transforming into maggots down some forgotten alleyway and yet a crossing guard will wave school kids onward tomorrow morning.

painting by colorsetbrushes

the eyes of a grasshopper too

4 Oct

the world is filled with so many faces.
i`ve never been to Milan
and i’ve never been to a leper colony,
but i`ve seen scragglers in alley ways and
the mailman has a face,
so does the crossing guard,
my mom and dad too.
i love all faces and wish i could paint.
i would paint all the world’s faces.
one time my friend said
que buena cara!
that’s spanish.
he said it meant what a beautiful face!
he said it about the potato omellete i made
and he was right.
it did have a beautiful face and
then we ate it.


we are forgiven

27 Sep

the dinosaurs went extinct because of the ice age or some other reason or reasons or no reasons or seasons at all or maybe there were no dinosaurs in the first place, but either way, humans had nothing to do with it.

revisiting canned heat

8 Sep

i like everything about elevators,
especially how the door slides open andelao 001 (2)
right away there’s potential in the
star trek teleportation feel.
and all the buttons,
but i push none
and by way of some mechanical law – go nowhere,
but when I sing,
the walls change color and
gravity loses power
and flying and somewhere else
kicks in…

painting by colorsetbrushes

at sea, on land, in canine and leaves

22 Aug

two ships nestled into their respective births
don’t have the same habit of dogs,
that oh so romantic smelling of asses,
to make sure each has its shit together
or to make sure each is terrible, lonely, imperfect,
and as a result
ripe for an encounter
all twisted up together
but anyway, I was talking about ships.

“don’t ya see baby,” says the more tattered of the two
bobbing and rocking every which way,
making a real spectacle of itself
a well deserved spectacle
like some vintage bottle of wine dancing on the shelf.

“my clinging,” continues the tattered,
“happens every year at this time,
during summer’s final joyride”

and right about then,
a wind picks up and
the nose of the newer ship rubs up on the tattered ships’s side.
the surrounding leaves appear in agreement,
changing colors ever so slightly.

some kind of nature walk i guess

18 Aug

i was out walking on one of those paths designated for walking
so there weren’t any cars,
but humans in fluorescent colored shoes swarmed all around
it looked like crayolas stuffed into a meat grinder

i squinted my eyes,
hoping it would go away,
but only saw a pinwheel and
the volume increased as well
yes, it got louder
probably because my eyes were almost closed.
i heard some ticktock escapement
maybe the speedometers of death?
a bad dream chase?

i slipped off the path
to where the trees looked wild,
but now it was the mosquitoes swarming and loud.
it was like being lost in a bad signal tv screen,
all that fuzz and buzz.
that’s when I realized,
there was no escape.

emotional x-rays

13 Aug

the hospital cafeteria has pizza and patients attached to iv poles,
there’s expensive perfume and the smell of matted hair and bed sores.
people sit at tribal-all-together tables and
other people sit all alone,
but everything melted down
sounds like a symphony of ouch
like anywhere else i guess.
why don’t they serve beer here?


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