Monday, September 29, 2008

Wednesday, September 24, 2008

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

Poems to Music

It was silly
it was jade and transparent and only made
sense just between our bedtime Bible story and our dreams.
But now we can dance, and pull the weeds, and perform for
our aquaintances.
We can fall asleep without saying our prayers.
Our wrinkled grandmothers watch on, silent; withholding. Biscuits in the
morning. The sled is broken.
Here’s what we did. We did.
We prayed our little jade, transparent pearl into the old abondend cistern next door. We blew smoke into the deep frier.
We can cut our own hair now, weave our own sweaters, smile and sneeze in time.
“Bless you” grandmother would’ve said.
“Bless you.”

MUSIC: (Neutral Milk Hotel, “Aeroplane Over the Sea”)

The walls are soaked
peeling and drenched
liquid dust.
“P. Shelley-Receptionist.”

Screams, bones, xylophones.
Take a number. Please sit.
Bloody smiling. Chit chat, WARNING: THE CHAIRS HAVE TEETH.
Sit back, watch The Human Life Show. The grammphone pops-
it’s out of tune nickelodeon wobbles.
Dogs bark in the distance, the air is stained yellow. Automatons blink and sqeal. They do not sing.
This is not post-industrial bliss.
MUSIC: (Mr. Bungle, “Backstrokin’, Golem II The Bionic Vapour Boy, ARS MORIENDI)

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

Written As Written

Bathe in milk and bleach, glue your eyebrows to your tail. Shave, repeat.
Vacuum up the nails and wait for the taxi man-
outside of the motel to call your name in whisper... "Alberta..."
Your Wrinkled little withered hands open the wicker berry basket, to
find only another basket, within another basket, within another basket.
20 minutes later, Robin's egg waits patiently on the balcony overlooking the
sea, the tide of taxi cabs blinking flashers; endlessly abyssal.
Smooth, perfect, waiting to be asked when the sun will rise
again, when your extended stay will end,
No vacancy, no shame, no questions remained.

Saturday, August 9, 2008

Hard Situations of the Teeth

This past week, I was lucky enough to experience the joys of having my wisdom teeth removed from my face.  

Since then, there's been some notable quoteworthy's:

"Doctor, let's do it again."

"Two and a half years ago, I accidentally killed  sheep."


All in all, it wasn't half bad.  My face hurts a little, but I would rate this experience has being somewhat productive.

Wednesday, July 2, 2008

Weddings, Celine Dion, and Too Little Beer

There are few things that erk my chassis in this great blue planet that we live on.

I encountered two of them, simulataneously, this past weekend in the family death-camp style, FLDS sanctioned, wheat field encrusted hell hole wedding held in Horton Michigan:

1). Celine Dion, (and henceforth amateur Celine Dion cover bands).


2). The American Wedding, (not the film, which is probably infinitely more entertaining, but still sucks).

Being at that wedding put me face-to-face with the American Dream, or Nightmare rather.  Namely, an overemphasis on absolute perfection permeated the 'sacred' grounds.  The howl of screaming children violently snuffed out by angry parents, walls of bouquets meticulously arranged by color, size, shape, scent, pollen yield ratio, and best of all, an overeager, sunglassed witch of an officiate conducting the ceremony.

And the fun hadn't even began yet.

My chromed-out rockin' bitch of a guitar casted flickers of golden light unto the wedding crowd in full, high spectra glory.  I began to play the processional music, (selected by myself), to the tune of These Days by Jackson Browne.  It was nice.  

Then, it was duet time.  My parts went quite well for only having a day of practice; the Italian was spot on, not a note missed.  However, the young lady which I was singing with, (who unceremoniously directed the majority of our rehearsal time trying to "teach" me how to sing, but in reality desired my parts to sound like a throaty Kermit the Frog), must have become nervous, because she completely blew her solo part in the middle of the song.  People were chuckling, and I felt a little bad for her, considering she was regaling me endlessly about her fabulous abilities and aspirations for Broadway and Disney princess bullshit.

But hey, $100 speaks for itself.