peripheral entertainment.

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ambient journalism.

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imbalance

Giftwrapping a thin book
on carpet,
--

∑ = Ø

neuter in isolation.
neuter in regret.

Piss in a Pipeline

The performer stands at the rear of the space.  A length of PVC pipe extends from him through the exit.  He inserts his penis into the pipe and begins to urinate.  The pipe has small holes in it and his urine leaks all over the floor.  He leaves & doesn't clean it up.  Maybe someone throws a paper towel on it or something.

this isn't the show anymore but you can tell me when it is;
he stood amongst them, we were all confused.

sweet blindness

don't let daddy hear it,
he don't believe in the gin mill spirit.

Bloomsaucer Fuckup

glory, eyes rot
confused, 3/5 unadorned
lungs
blush
up yr spine

boy you wore
statue o liberty
heat,
bloomed polyps
paralyzed//

brain giddy &
thick

neuropathways
scatterforce—
o, face—
idiot skin folds
bulbs
churn soil,
potentiate
matter

November

is the most traumatic month.

experiment 215: instrument

space between
the Eye (if you know what I mean) &
Ear fills in w/”pregnant” clouds
the purple & grays of heavy
nameless emotion hang mono no
aware over a bruise of community
amidst columns and pyramids
o! population—Ear at Eye agitates,
Eye’s eye twitches at oh—
being misunderstood—& Ear’s
passive eye,
but directed concavity
is expectant gaze,
Eye’s voice slides around & out; he
hears it right back
o! Ear—

Pursed lips left eye closing. 

Bloom Eyes Saucer Observance

torment of confused 3/5 mile stare

from amazed maw blare unadorned

color lungs beyond language

approach rot

as you return to the boy you once were

the statue of liberty in your hand a thermometer

blooming aveoli for time

brain a giddy cacophony thick 

opaque as grass 

your face in it skidding

years don't measure but thoughts

& new pathways among nerve cells

we see how color affects us

room painted wall unchosen skin

in fractal history folds around

tori time bulbs over cut in half

earthworms churning soil hand

with fingers closed more easily slices 

lake water cloudy with life

Guerrilla Gig: The House At Pooneil Corners - Jefferson Airplane, 1968 -...

Jefferson Starship - Have You Seen The Saucers - 11/8/1975 - Winterland ...

took off my shoes & belt and went to sleep right there on him.

only religion in the world is communication

don't kid yourself, idiot.

on birthdays we laugh
sip from straws
ridiculous
lucky to be feeling

funny thing is,

we can spit in the face of beauty,
as living beings.

LIVING SPHERE

i should have grabbed you from those drugs


kept you in

a selfish human family.

]the fractal expands, contracts & burns those
who act it out.

i want to destroy my apartment with fists and legs
to break everything i feel um

consequence
to match yr painting

so effortlessly. i want to,
& you don't anymore.

The bulb ends into some grass.

WRITING THEM ABOUT GETTING SECURITY CAMERAS AS YOU SMOKED METH

STILL HERE

Smashing Pumpkins - Disarm (Live London UK The Word 1993)

Or)e(gon

I live at the dead end of Gravel Pit Road.

http://youtu.be/1woMEExMZXg

wishy-washedly daydreaming with zero specificity

|¢| You Are--

We have always been here.

Found, from some time ago--

OLD AGE: inevitable outcome of anyone who lives long enough, degenerated appearance, slowed functioning, increased isolation, sees the rest of the world & one’s small place in it, studying others, looks outward, negates the pain of self in favor of helping others.

REALIZATION MOMENT: Learns of universal, shared patterns of aging as displayed by the body, wasting away, realizes intention can shape the body, sees patterns in one’s own life & realizes the ability to change them, realization of time horizon--terror in the face of death vs. reaching out to others & seeing one’s identity is not solitary. Increased appreciation for others, for specifics, for small things. (remember the last scene of Paris is Burning?)

Isolation & viewing others as general things to use, destructive patterns---->Physical aging, personal realizations of action/consequence--->Realized ability to control the present & future.

What if we, as _________ “were always there?”

Group Inerane - Ano Nagarus

experiment 213: you have to be joking

One long yawn, life,

yarn wifespun,

a strong lawn she’d mown

over anthills (anywaygraves),

keep thinkin’ bout

how I never did fit

the neighborhood

the freaks,

let them live for me

evercool—

what time was it?

was it 

the morning

when i

decided to marry,

full cock bigger,

Washington

& life in a suit

o god

am I the god who

left TV on all day thru night?

Might

leave the microwave

on, too.

experiment 212: spirit in the sky (attempt II, for Chris Tyler)

o bb lemme try & hold

on to you or something at least a sleeve

through the New Sincerity

& puke my admiration at you—

world of love & laughter or something

chronic depression jo

throwaway awakenings on hollywood & vine

acting like we’re alive & living

or something written wot a waste lol

unless—

oops!

o grey world w/all these fucking ppl in it

something something

& the phalluses we can’t help but

worship we suck cock

& try to topple it

& o we laugh play dad but mother—

& no way! us? we’re still smiling or something!

the num ber se ven

screen asks

i don't think; 31, i'm 31 hi.

HA HEP HEP HEP HEP HAHA
how big yo dick is boy

idk. i really dk.

I WASN'T WAVING GOODBYE I WAS SAYING HELLO

wyd?

listening to japanther,
folding laundry.

experiment 211: waterfalls

strong men deal with the daily

yoni or river of masculine

determination a habit unthought

unsung quiet erosion useless

sediment packed around what glows

sculpture a taking away

She holds me in fog now,

her density, nourishment of pindrops

that coax open pores,
osmosis in skin.

Fertile cool pressure, air-heavy

suspension drawing coreward.

The cells of my lungs
recall the hot shower she

ran when constricted

I coughed with croup;
warm liquid air

in this fog, on this night

here she

is, I live.

potential experience 206 (I am afraid of witchcraft [no, I’m not afraid of anything!]): NAME REDACTED cripple and the starfish NAME REDACTED —Self-replicating little man dreams of Bogotá

she is with you in the fog

so let it soothe your joints, swell

your bones — respire her

& see the dogsbreath cloud

over their teeth that nuzzle,

clip hair in your silence,

air of despair but only ever

yours, at least that's special.

dad, take care of your body,

your sadness, feel it especially as you

do & leave it at feel. but thank

anything you can think of for this feeling,

you can’t shy from it or hide.

it’s you & she’s in your physiology—

two mutations toward one another,

exchange

like you’ll never know that again.
but thank whatever you

can think of for it, at all.  dad, i’ve seen people not feel;

i’ve seen people’s fathers not feel,

you did something right//