Wednesday, January 31, 2007

The Mustaches of The Past

It is true that some men in the past
sported enormous mustaches.
Some of them
(even the grotesquely deformed)
grew mustaches like
cranes lifting and lowering the
mandible. In some cases
scholars no bigger than a thumb
measured the mustaches
and deemed them exceedingly
woolly. "It is like a world of pubic
hair" said one. Another said,
"This mustache is a dense
legal system through which there
are many courts of appeal."

Monday, January 29, 2007

Very Important Lessons

What it's like to rock.

Sunday, January 28, 2007

How Today Becomes A Creepy Spider

You have hopes, maybe.
Maybe, you have financial problems
or thoughts like lasers. Scattered thoughts
like scattered lasers. You may imagine
a laser shooting through a prism.
You imagine the prism jiggling.
Prism Jiggling. Now there's a band name.
Their first record,
Thoughts Like Lasers, Lasers Like BB's on A Tiled Floor,
rocks.
After a while, you cut your hair.
Then, you notice bits of hair in the bathwater.
It is now beginning.
In the background, the TV says
"puberty isn't for kids anymore."

Saturday, January 27, 2007

Something Nice (Thanks to Bruce Covey)

Siren's best of 2006.

Friday, January 26, 2007

One of the Things I Was Thinking

Perhaps you understand various
matters that happen.
Perhaps you are aware of psychology
and the difference between
ambivalence and etc.
I don't speculate a great deal, though
I wonder.
Perhaps I think sentences and perhaps
some of those sentences appear
here.
It's a wonder that I can address myself
this calmly.
I credit the beer and the grinding
of the years against the stones.
Of course, the other medication is important.
Yes, of course, the sense
that I'll never be the same persists.
Even now, as evaporated tears form support
groups, my self-love pounds the shore.
The ocean I'm talking about is the cliched ocean.

Wednesday, January 24, 2007

Very Important Lessons

Some Things Are New (But You Probably Already Know That)

Monday, January 22, 2007

Very Important Lessons

Sunday, January 21, 2007

Sweet Stuff (And That Feels Good)

Perhaps you don't like football.
Perhaps you don't understand why a poet might like football.
Perhaps a poet doesn't even understand why he is attached to a certain football team.
But a major factor in the world is proximity.
Other things in the world include mental illness and strange thoughts.
I've thought things before.
Other things in the world include childhood dreams and broken legs.
There's other stuff too.
All of it crapola. Still--
in the state of Indiana, I'm thinking of the Colts.
I'm like, seriously, take those equine thoughts to the Superbowl.
I'm a better human being tonight than I was last night.

Friday, January 19, 2007

It's Not For Certain But I'm Pretty Sure

My parents don't like my book.

Wednesday, January 17, 2007

Pretending to Be Picasso

Tuesday, January 16, 2007

I Don't Even Like This Song or the Title Blues

Hey, hey, are you crazy too?
Does you mind churn butter?
Buddy, buddy, I'm very crazy
and burned butter, buddy.

Hey, hey, does it get really sad.
Does it get smooth like black, black ice?
Yeah, man, it's sad, it's sad.
It's a full basket of sadness.

Moon, moon, will you shoot down your glow?
Moon, moon, shoot your glow down please.
I don't like to use words no more.

The Title Was The Hard Part

I believe it's important to pay close
attention to everything Dr. Phil
says. Today he told someone
that we get what we ask for
and I thought about that for awhile
because I agree with Dr. Phil.
I began to ask myself,
What am I asking for?
This wasn't a new game I was playing.
Even if there are moments
that my shield is to the side
and I am stuck with some giant
javelin, it is always less impressive
than it sounds.
It doesn't even sound good.
You should hear my son sing.
You can't tell if he's screaming
or trying to speak German.
I find that I can't speak or
scream without having the sensation
that a belt is dangling in my throat.
I was telling students to say
something interesting
and meanwhile I was begging
three explanations from a police officer.
The first thing he said (and
I'll never forget this)
was about an actor with dark
eyebrows.

Saturday, January 13, 2007

Celebrating

Today was a special day because
it was YoYo's birthday (this afternoon
and for 3 days in a row).
It was Buy A Cool Stool Day.
It was Put The Toilet Away Day.
And Mom Didn't Work Day.
And someone was wearing a cape
which was very important.
So, the day was a boat we
put on the water.
And we put it on the water.
And whatever.
It was a cool day--the wind sucked
through the gutter.
The sky was a basket.
I had Fudgcicles before bed.
A mouse slept in a guitar.

Wednesday, January 10, 2007

Then I Was Saying

If you've considered buying Hitler's Mustache you should consider it again and perhaps buy it here. Though you could go there, don't. I'm just saying. If you haven't considered buying Hitler's Mustache I would like you to. I guess that sounds pretty selfish, but it's true.

Tuesday, January 09, 2007

The Rules


Monday, January 08, 2007

As I Was Saying

The actual size and shape
is yet to be determined. So are
the form and function which both
still hide in a mystery bag. The
matter regarding the weight
is still open to discussion.
There is also the issue of the
un and ill-fated durability.
The longitude is set.
The amount of air involved
is set in concrete.
The amount of concrete is also set.
Also, there are a set of figures
and calculations which seem
solid enough.
I'm not now going to discuss
any part of the digestive system
or any of the measurements around
the mirrored control panel.
The number of beeps is going to
be 6, but we haven't set the amount
of seconds that will follow the fourth beep.
I've already said more than I should.

Sunday, January 07, 2007

Starting and Then Stopping

In a flourish of speclulations I began. It was as if the whole of the mountain was moving into a small eye. I was overwhelmed with whelming. My small eye wanted something else. A cracker, or a bowl of fur.

Saturday, January 06, 2007

The Cave in the Forest

This is what I say, "And
Tutu and Jojo and Yoyo and
Artichoke decide to go to
a motorcycle race. And Artichoke
says 'I've got to go to the bathroom'
but since he's a mouse
and not a person he really
has to balance on the rim."
And he says, "Where is Tangerine?"
And I say, "Tangerine didn't
feel good so he stayed home
and ate bread pudding, which doesn't
even make any sense because
how would a mouse make
bread pudding?"
And he says, "What about the
sleeping big brown dog?"
And he has a point.

Friday, January 05, 2007

Something



I met Muhammad Ali in a bus station in Louisville, April 1, 1987. He was walking out of the bathroom while I was walking in. I was with a church group. He signed autographs for everyone and did some magic tricks. There were maybe 15 of us. He was very nice. It was late at night too, maybe 11:00. The autograph is really his signature, but it was done prior to meeting us. Some guys with him kinda organized us into a line and when it was our turn a guy beside him would hand him the above tract (which is, of course, promoting Islam) that already had his autograph and the words "To" and "From" on it. Ali just filled in my name and dated it. You can tell the ink is different. He had big hands. Some of the people in my church group found the question on the above tract to be absolutely scandalous.

Wednesday, January 03, 2007

And...

I forgot to mention this, which is really nice. (Scroll down when you get there till you see a picture of Hitler's face.)

Tuesday, January 02, 2007

Other Things A Person Does

Mixing the new Short Hand this week. This one is not a four-track recording, it is an eight-track recording. Eight tracks. Can you imagine it?