Tuesday, March 29, 2005

Wednesday, March 23, 2005


Jo -- 11/26/04

Jo / Max -- 11/27/04
Philosopher and One Onlooker

airfield areas cremated = pancreatic and segregated brontosaurus points

fallow congestion = motherland checkerberried by godmother payoff

and frosty lantern cannons = 20

Jo - 11/28/04 - Photo by Max

Max -- San Diego High Soccer
This atmospheric camouflage is bothersome

It amasses off the coast and then its colon

hacks into my computer with the continuity

of Jose Canseco wearing a cyanide codpiece.

Instead of switching it digresses. Instead of

obsessing I'm disrupting my despicable habits

and the stratosphere turns rife with affluence

and digital rumble.

Thursday, March 17, 2005

Paddock Heart


Winnie the Schroedinger bring thy pizza,

your unstable bluff constantly fostering dodo.

Sunday, March 13, 2005

I KNOW A SEAMY MAN TOO


This is the line, the core is
finite, a man I know from Provo was
working his way through Osaka

a resurgence
of for-
m reversed

a rooster
passed, a woman I know
walked by in a uniform

of flowers. Her head and fingers,
her eyes listening to the band.
Her head and fingers

in Bambi-land
and her face
a giraffe.

A stroll down
and through
for the moment.
FOR LOVE


an azalea

for my mother,
my mother, for

an azalea

Saturday, March 12, 2005


Max and Jo at Morro Bay - February 2005
A Cauldron of Creeps

I am Lestat the vampire & I have a history of singing
at inappropriate times. I've tried everything to stop,
short of slitting my own throat.

It started in Miami in 1990 & my intention at the
time was to start singing and then stop. But it's
important to understand that while I'm sleeping I
do not have control over my interior dialogue and I
sometimes start singing uncontrollably. I've tried
refried beans, I've triedVampire Chili and, God help
me, I've tried Robitussin®. And if any of you repeat
this I swear on my mortal friend David Talbot that
I will haunt any function you're inhabiting by
breaking into an acapella version of "Me & My
Shadow".

Tuesday, March 08, 2005

DYING OF BOREDOM IN SAN DIEGO

I want out of this closet but the pencils
are really rolling in right now. It is
not an exaggeration to say we were like
hostages of a new language.

(IF YOU ARE GENUINELY PLOWING THESE
VIOLENT FANTASIES TOO MUCH I THINK THAT
YOU SHOULD CONSULT A PEANUT - IF ONLY TO
HAVE A REALLY STRANGE FEELING)

It was a W.C. Fields movie during which
they would come to complain later,
"There IS life after death!"

(I CAN'T PREDICT THE HEALTH OF YOUR
BICYCLE SHOULD YOU CLIP THIS "NICE BUT
GROPING" MAN - I AM AN ORDINARY GUY AND
A CORPORATE ACCOUNTANT)

More and more, as I listen to these
robots, I fantasize pitying them with my
fists, knocking them to a spa in Florida
and trimming their mustaches and beards.

(YOU NEED TO DIFFERENTIATE A FEW THINGS:
IF YOU RETAIN DETACHMENT OF THE LIVING
ROOM, WILL YOU BE RESPONSIBLE FOR THE
RELIGION AND CUSTOMS OF YOUR NEW HOME?
WILL YOU BE GIVEN A WORD PROCESSOR OR
ALIMONY? OR WILL YOU JUST GET FIRED FROM
YOUR JOB?)

Help me because please I don't want to
understand my situation before I draw a
line.

Sunday, March 06, 2005

Novosibirsks are piling up

the bin becoming a stigma

to this stratosphere that

lies camouflaged like a

ghoulish dodo petition.
Considered A Fool

Because Kestrel botanists

in this threadbare city

have hydroxylated their

conch crack into

pestle switches.