Wednesday, July 23, 2014

Random shit on a Wednesday evening...

So I've been writing poems here and there & shit but now that the pressure is off a bit I'm casting around for some larger project that I'd like doing. There's the Stick Man novel I started a few years ago and got 60k words in, but I don't know what I think of that. I kinda want to continue mixing fictional and poetic elements like I was experimenting with in 'the truth' (which is this 10k word poem I wrote last year).

But, that's boring shit. I'm going to the open mic at Mestizo tonight, just for a relaxing thing to do. Didn't make an event out of it because I don't want to host.

Here's this poem I started which I think is going to be cool but I'm not sure where to take it:

I don’t wish to admit that I’m a political creature, but of course I am.
“What fun would it be without the drama?” someone asked me last week.
Later I beat off to her, but that’s a different subject.
(My inner editor is telling me that this poem will need ‘tightening’.
Don’t worry; I’ll get around to that.)
But back to the point: get something beautiful going and politics will fuck it up, 
sure as shit.
The beat-off girl was wise to accept this, I feel.
She had eyes the color of acetylene flames and breasts like obese, catatonic hamsters.
The tattooed face on her shoulder sang songs about velvet flesh in a soft, lubricious voice.
I thought about beating the shit out of it while saying, “Oh yeah? Oh yeah?”
but that would just be slugging a girl’s shoulder, now, wouldn't it?

Think of the political ramifications of that move 
(to bring us, once again, back to the point).

Tuesday, July 22, 2014

Ghetto Biker Update

As my friends know, I've been getting around using public transportation and my bikes lately. So here’s me on the maiden voyage of the new Croozer trailer I just got. I decided to get the kind that will haul a pet because I've got this pug, you see, that I need to get to the groomer and maybe the vet or whatever. Plus this attractive baby will haul 100 lbs of cargo. So when there’s a sale on the diet cherry pepsi I like, I can haul home several twelve-packs. I can go back to doling weekly grocery shopping if I want to instead of tooling over to the store several times a week, although (fuck you) I might do both. I mean, sometimes you want to haul home something big, you know? Like a few weeks ago I had to strap my new Kuerig (yeah, fuck you, I got one, and I love it) on my saddle-bag rack and it damn near fell off and I had to keep my hand on it and it was a pain in the ass. If I’d had the Croozer then ida been a happy camper.

Now, about the flag. There was some (brief) debate with my female offspring about the hipness of said item but I feel that it is rather sporty and I think I’ll keep it on there. I might change my mind on that but as of now the little flag stays.

So I feel this is a pretty big next step in my evolution as the Ghetto Biker, although, as you can plainly see, this pic was taken outside my home in the suburbs. That’s okay, because my suburb is a ghetto in many ways, especially intellectually and culturally. My neighbors are, in the main, clueless fuckin right-wing low-energy workin fucks, bless their butt-smelling little hearts. More on that anon, I’m sure...

Monday, July 21, 2014

a clearfield state of mind

a clearfield state of mind on a hot july sunday evening stopping my bicycle at a wendys along the main road i go in and get a single and eat it looking out the window at a gathering summer thunderstorm wondering if the posibility of human connection wasn't just a joke all along and i was the only one not in on it then i think of this artist i saw talking about 'emergence' the other day and how i thought he was full of shit and he was because i'm sitting here in clearfield utah looking out the wendys window and suddenly my head blasts off like a little spaceship and shoots off into outer space and i'm looking at the fucking earth motherfucker and i'm looking at the pattern made by human beings and guess the fuck what i know it's boring but it's true the big-ass thing that emerges and the only thing worth talking about is loneliness or maybe it's our endless hunger which never mind is the same fucking thing.

Friday, July 18, 2014

I plan to post something every day or two - just something to maybe laugh at.

Why is all the fucking yogurt greek now? It's no fucking different. I go one decade without eating the shit and one day I walk across the street and, whoa! You've made this little lame-ass innovation. I see I've been out of the yogurt scene too long. Cut the crap!

On a related note: you're not intolerant of gluten. You're just obsessed with your shit. Your anecdote about how you feel so much better now is delusional fuck-shrapnel (I have no idea what that means). Just quit thinking about it and go beat off and you'll be fine.

To the lady who approached me where I read some poems the other night: the problem isn't with the speed at which I was reading. You just need to fucking listen faster. Thanks for the cleavage-view though, btw, that was awesome. Drop by any time.

What else?

Have to read at a poetry show tomorrow night. I've been flapping around emotion-wise like an encrusted wafer of drying mucous in the nostril of a city-destroying-mutant-former-bowler in urgent need of breast-reduction surgery. Or something. But I'm starting to feel better. Time to roll the bones. Let the chips fall. Let it be what it's going to be.

Anyway, you should come, here's the facebook event:

Saturday, June 28, 2014

I'm resurrecting this blog because my book came out and in various ways it's expected for an author to have a blog. I'll try to post witty stuff now and then. In the meantime, read my book (you can find it on Amazon):