z

•December 27, 2009 • Leave a Comment

The party’s host was wild in his exalt: “…at this house we don’t close the curtains and close all doors with bolts to keep passage prevented; at this house we wave out the evident windows at people who pass by and if they don’t wave back we drop our pants and show them our rears; at this house we have Sunday dinners with pleasantries; but we can puke in the centers of floors if we want to, and all gather around the pile and dance to its possibilities … because it don’t matter enough to do otherwise.”

But frankly his party wasn’t so good.

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let the countries fight

•December 27, 2009 • Leave a Comment

“du fruit in la treat?
ahh cafe du monde mademoiselle”

a bunch of french people, sitting at their table,
looked over with berets in their eyes
unwilling to stand for the Texan’s mockery of
their language, their culture, philosophy and other junk
that makes a people a people

the Texan killed the french people and took over
the south western portion of the country that
had, until just now, belonged only to whoever lived there

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melons and toast

•December 22, 2009 • Leave a Comment

I got computer monitors on top of the trash dump sittin out back; just lift them up and set them down yonder and you can have access to all the leftover material in the dumpster; you’ll see the things you like: broken futures, purple burgundy, blue-dead red time;

pause

Oh I don’t know what you say about electronics; my job is that of a seller; I don’t inter-mediate with opinions, flagrant notions, or jam and butter encouragement;

but, all that said, get what you need and clean up after yourself;

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the floating arm

•December 22, 2009 • Leave a Comment

“yup … he got him that way”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“hmm, water can burn you I guess”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“… was he with alone or had he had the company earlier in the evening”

“huh?!”

“…”, an agreement.

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“I’ve heard he fried of the anxiety before he got the burn’t.”

“huh!”

“…”, an agreement.

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

They each then took some time to silence. No one spoke until the one finally had to acknowledge what that each one was afraid of:

“They say that the boiling water was carried in a aluminum pot”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“the arm carried it?”

“…”, an agreement.

“huh.”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“did it drag upright, from its elbow, and that would be how it carried the pot of water!?”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

Their fear is deterring the acknowledgment.

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“The arm came floatin’.

“around the corner at up about 4 ½ foot…”

“… some say it could’ve been more alike 5 ½ or 6 foot up …”

“huh?!”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”, a good many of all ‘em gave an agreement.

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“What he do when the arm went to dumpin’ that water into the tub”

“…nah, no one can know that for certain – I would’ve stood up quick as hell!”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“… that way the water would’ve only burnt your feet wouldn’t it have?!”

“…”

“Yeah”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“Uh-huh - … that’s most likely the best way to defend the arm’s water torture”

“most say that’s probably what he did do.”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“- what - …… - ummm … what about what happened to the rest of the man in the bathtub…”

What abouT the rest of the man in the bathtub?!”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

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“…”

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“…”

“…”

“…”

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“…”

“…”

“ how? the rest of him fry ”

“…”

“…”

“…”

The dangerous question made everything tense again.

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“… what! was he doin’ in the tub?”

“…”

“they say he was washin’ the dead skin off his soul…”

“then the arm fried him with boiling water?…”

“…his feet and ankles at least; his own anxiety might have fried the rest of him.”

The little boys screamed. And the campfire burned merrily merrily merrily all night long.

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cockfight ey-o

•December 21, 2009 • Leave a Comment

the four jeeps worked hard to get up the rocky
hillside: fractured granites, rickety grasses,
crumbles of tumbling stone and dirt debris ( plural )

and one jeep, call it jeep-A, did a powerful job !! and did not
succeed and rather lost its tracking and rolled downwards,
backwards from the hill to a low end gully shattered in brown durst

but at the hill’s top two jeeps were in success !! but did not the
hill have vertical ascents ?? if this story be known as a truth
then it shalln’t be known as one that is believable; this story is known as a truth

and as it is with all the proverbs that concern the defines atop hills
    there is not a place for a second player, or
    be it jeeps or rulers not a second one the same

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goats on hillside, beep beep

•December 21, 2009 • Leave a Comment

we ate, each of us, a
bucket of ham to go along with
enough bread all right
and we drank a pound of juice
    … or more I’d say

I leaned over and spoke
to my neighbor, but there were
goats on the hillside so
how could we get along

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making love while eating mexican food

•December 20, 2009 • Leave a Comment

“that was one fine tamale”
“and that was one fine cigarette”

the woman and man had made love while eating mexican food

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a tribute to Vasquez Cubador

•December 20, 2009 • Leave a Comment

‘A HOW HOW HOW HOW’,

‘A HOW HOW HOW HOW’, those were
the lyrics of the great Romanian leftist,
Vasquez Cubador, a late addition to the
pre-psychedelic classicism movement known as romantic
jazz. The wings

of that era haven’t been clipped, I think was
what Vasquez wanted to tell us all, that the
foundation,
    the struggle, for eye-derated fairness,
    for opportunity, were brilliantly alive
in the 1/16 rhythms of his homeland Romania

And so it is, that here on this rural carolina
farm, on a spring-fresh day in June, 20 boys
are hung by their nasals to celebrate
the great life of a Romanian leftist

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