Selections from: Light blue notebook I’ve left some things until Monday You damned oxThey were right Spumoni four stars Feels fine I kept you out too long February thirdLight blue notebookAm I a gem in the rough Stuff Inclement weather This old desk You funny apple Last after the platypus I am blue

 

From light blue notebook:

        Have to say one thing or the other. This is the great confusion. For example I have to choose to say I’m happy or sad when really I’m both. Or is it neither?

        Branches sway and twist in the accelerating current. Crayfish taverns are down in the brown century moon fields. Pandas greet me with waffles pasta and toasted marshmallows. Great train whistles in the lonely night. And words fail.

        Hollering with a hoarse voice, Crayfish lays down his trolley. Leaves spin and caress his sore tiled throat.

 

        I’m just transparent now, that’s why no meaning emerges.

 

From "I’ve left some things until Monday":

        I’ve left some things until Monday. Various things which I’m expected to do.

        I’m gasping. Crests of foamy waves. My neck feels a little twisty.

        Afloat without a breeze, I’m sneezing through the seas, fixing the time, waking in the pool. I sit quizzically and wonder which way is backwards and forwards.

        Soaking in alphabets, squandering resources, I pull a salamander from my lung. There was a boat casting beans and flowers into the night. It’s colder now, or was it colder then? Kelp tracks lead straight to the assembly line.

        Trade off for a time, fishing warily for effective speech, feeling old and warty, licking butter running down the curb. The kind elevator man gave me balloons when I was four.

 

From "You damned ox":

        It’s a fortune of cops and billiards. Can’t you go any faster you damned ox? Work and work and work.

        Barbecues start calling in the fuzzy time right after sunset: the barbecue is softer than anything, it slides through the cracks of time into the timeless gooey center of the world. Canopies cover dark wombats from the rays of the parching sun. Goombas and gumdrops circulate communist leaflets to battered old women. Time flies.

        Ants groan and splinter in the weird heap.

        Kicked out into the cold, worse than ever in the dirty street.

        Cans of punch and bean soup glued to the mantle radiate heat. Caught without salad, sick without a bath, alone in the rooftop, bathing in silence, worse than the outcome, first and last.

        The only one who I ever loved in the green sky parting waves. I came up the stairs with a tender regret, already forgetting the first step and the room before that. I tore through the window stinking of clouds and gasoline, worse off than I had ever been I tumbled in the night like in a drier without walls or floors.

        Kids are cruel, I know. I went up through that hall and sat without anything to do, like a block or a stone without any purpose. Fantasy meets reality with a funny clash, shaking the pavement and the old chatty daylit bus station.

        I bought an old yellow brown cabbage from a crazy guy on the street. It was genetically engineered to make me fly hallucinating through the haunted house somewhere on the upper west side.

 

From "They were right":

        Cops and robbers chase balloons through the bloody streets at dawn. Greasy-eyed clones fasten their seatbelts for the octopus patrol. Beneath the city there’s a bunch of candy-eyed robots, belching in neon glowing stadiums.

        Half-unknown to the rest of us, I am undertaking a secret plan. Fast asleep in my cot I dream of the day when there is no more fear but only an intense and consuming love. The intensity of my blank-eyed desire throws me into a studied panic, undergoing cereal box misfortunes and bellyflop exteriors.

        People can only see a little bit because time revolves too fast for any knowledge to take hold. And anyway, the laws of causality and distance are persistent: love is limited in this world.

 

From "Spumoni four stars":

        I am thinking maybe of changing back into my sweatpants for comfort. Damn me and my life, I love it. This was a night to remember, a red day on my holiday map, grown in splendor.

        They were all wrong when they said I was a wolf or a munchkin: I was neither, I was an overgrown walrus balloon, sandspinning my way to Barcelona on a broken trolley. Now that I’ve finally gotten to Barcelona, everything is different and boring. I curse every fish toilet and milk fountain with the sunny marker stains chirping and barking.

        Ah, I am so full of sadness. My insides are like a big ball of sadness. Sometimes I even enjoy my sadness. But I don’t want to try to force myself to enjoy it. Like a big old ball of clay venereal pasta. Bites of rye, fine to walk across the giddy marshes. A splinter in the eye of the bird. This is the dawning of the age of fantastic nastiness.

        Brief bursts of speed and completeness bounce around like palace banjos.

 

From "Feels fine":

        old feather bed wonder, dreaming in the old country bed, scared of the dark.

        Crying and sweaty in another bed, a happy grub.

Blurred along lines, a ghost of the trail, faltering and quiet. Hopeful redfaced ignorant polite, a bright burning star in an ashtray by an elevator, felt about the same, quieter now and not so, doesn’t hurt so much, but ahh, still got some kind of hope you know, why not, there’s no reason at all not to have hope, why, anything might happen next, even though it feels about the same, the sameness could twist and twirl, leap and dive through an alligators throat, come out on the other side frozen in ether…

 

From "I kept you out too long":

        I kept you out too long, didn’t I? It’s a long road at night anyway, the kids were rotten and greedy, sand in their eyes. Hold me please, now that the day is already over.

        Figs and fortunes, bets and sofas, I live in the swamp. White foam filling my socks, I’m filling and full, and a foolish grin, toothless.

        I’m all bent over like an old bean, soaked with water from the rain on the window sill. It’s afternoon, a long afternoon and everything is dark from the rain. Dark but awake, alive, day.

        Now it’s later and everything is silent, black, electric night of 2:49AM, a consistent time of painless electricity. A time to be alone, spinning in my sad plastic.

        Time fathers a zebra, caught alone in the storm, a secret smile behind the confused eyes. Catch me. It happens. It happens this way and I’m happening with it too. Being separate is funny and serious, but I chuckle in the night under the eyes of the raptor.

 

From "February third":

        Worse for a long time, dragging and coughing. Now its all better and fine. Painful absence of all these holy things makes me all sad and bored sometimes. I am a fountain of lukewarm genius these days, calm and halfway boring sad. I cry in my weirdo dream of someday soon a happy boat and floating toast without the slightest hint of remorse: Who am I kidding?

        Fierce goblins with parched anemones grapple with tawny spiders creeping backwards down the drainpipe. Whores and pewter skeletons battle fandango lizards hopping blindly and with a goofy calm grin.

        The worst Saturday on the record books might have been that other time or something. This one is in-between y’hear? Not so great but hey everything’s FINE!!

        I don’t know which thing to do. But hey I don’t need to make an error to have everything come crashing down. I might as well try to get what I can.

        Belts and nail files are covering the Christmas tree, working all the way down, feeling dead, kidding around, hoping for nothing, all drawn together,

        feeling down, feeling that old pain, working in the show, all bedecked in roses, I walk down to the broadway arcade. 

 

From light blue notebook:

        They were all set, going to France beaches on a sunny teenage day. Cancel the frostbite seminar, my goggles feel gritty and yellow. Cones of asparagus twist and shout in the afterglow.

        Following your heart, you will come to the volcano where the salamanders swim. Bestial frowning grocers weigh electronic pillows. Cold ghosts waver uncertainly, pausing crossly to examine their parsnip control, wary of the spoon tiger. The tiger prowls quietly in the moonlit forest.

        Locks and bankers threaten fine gooey organs. Some of the organs struggle to revolt. First off, the mangy banker prayed to collarbone metal deskchairs, bracing evil fashion trends in redeyed VCR’s.

Far to go. Nowhere to go. I don’t know.

 

From "Am I a gem in the rough":

        Am I a gem in the rough? A tragic old plaster cast writing greedily on the dusty tile ammonia? Cardboard cutouts of my head circle and swim as they groan and dribble. Why won’t that girl come and make me happy? What the heck. Hey yer haw.

        This is some type of a thing, this here life. So I mean what the heck.

        Leeks and potatoes growing by the road. Colors of lime and gypsy froth, baking and burning in the country night. Warm dancing windows cry freedom to the slow and bulgy bear. Glowing green hope is sliding around in cottony hopelessness. Forget and go back to your work.

 

From "Stuff":

        It’s like hey baby, is this the unfulfilled existence or something?

 

From "Inclement weather":

        Pasta nights and spaceship rock days, it’s been better and worse but I don’t see how any of it matters. Noodles flip around this morning, sausages cook in the nice pan with onions. In the glass towers, weasels and goons are joking scary plans.

 

From "This old Desk":

        This old desk. I parted from my sweet girl after the train factory. Forget me, I’ve got nothing to offer. My throne is a pile of socks.

        I’m crying, distressed and homely, pale beyond the sight of the gummy beans. Panting and yelping I touch her, she spins and spasms across a red sea, stars above.

        Find me moping down here in the dark by the pool. Don’t you know I’m waiting for you?

        Cold benches swim and slide on the summer pond. The raft is scratchy and green. Cotton dancers reenact the festive burglary of the sapphire tomb, clad in blue-black robes and stoned.

        Forget me, because I have nothing to offer you. I wish, I wish I had something to offer you, so that you wouldn’t forget me. But right now I can’t think of anything. I’m a neck huddling in a blanket. I’m rid of all my worries and cares. I’ve been wandering around in the mist for years and now I’m just sad and impatient. Forget me.

        Plastic chimes whistle over the desolate garage, calling in the empty dusk. Plastic butter seeps through my veins, tickling and burning my throat. Covered in a veil she walks quickly across the tile, arm in arm with some other guy. I’m embarrassed and dumb, like a dog or a rock, yellow and creepy like a furtive turtle. Climb down, carry me away. I’m baking in the sun here, bent and stupid.

 

From "You funny apple":

        You funny apple, I like your belly. Fortunes and diners. Butter candy and ice cream sundaes. I’m loving you till the day I die. Memories come without obvious cause. But evil music makes me spit and curse.

 

From "Last after the platypus":

        They were all wrong when they said all that mean stuff: just forget about them and be happy.

        Fantastic memories, colliding with the erasing power of time. I am old enough to know my fate now, colored in the coloring books of the grim and greasy Lord. Fast and mental, sifting bored through old papers. I wonder and poke up through the sand, quavering and hot.

        You can see me right here in front of you, hoping against hope. I’m all alone and filled with toboggans. The burning memory of my lost tooth covers me like a gold dust. I’m a bursting parcel, longing for my milky bubble to be popped.

        Remember me for a second please, I was here for a certain length of time although there was nothing special about me. I worked in the zoo among a pile of gloves and kettles, begging angry orangutans for company.

        Here I am, cold and naked, shivering with the old nothingness. A pen pops through the eye of a squid, shooting sparks of memory and notebooks. Fingers are bursting with red. My eyes are made out of squish.

 

From "I am blue":

        I am blue. As blue as a shoe. Blue blue shoe. It’s autumn. Fantastic pigeons duck through the lake. A mantle of blossoms.

        It’s circumstance that does me in. Bloody circumstance.