So you drive on the parkway
and park on the driveway
and fly on (well from) the runway
and run on the sidewalk

no wonder i’m always confused

well it started out with a robbery
that was followed by a death investigation
of a baby who was found in a trash can
then later it moved on to an upcoming meeting
about how to budget
and stay out of foreclosure
bush had some important things to say last night
i couldn’t bring myself to care
now i just keep thinking about the jury selection
for the mother who microwaved her baby

. . . he said, taking the guitar off his shoulders and casting a wary eye over the assembled crowd. He was looking for reaffirmation through negation, but after a momentary pause had yielded naught, he continued speaking with a false air of disregard. ‘I might never be famous, but I’ve come to the conclusion that this doesn’t matter.’

It’s good to see somebody isn’t just rolling over to our government.

AFP: Descendants of Sitting Bull, Crazy Horse break away from US

The Lakota Indians, who gave the world legendary warriors Sitting Bull and Crazy Horse, have withdrawn from treaties with the United States, leaders said Wednesday.

[the start of something…]

He was seated in a café’, telling the waiter that the cappuccino needed more milk when the bomb went off.

The explosion rent a concussive bubble into the air, which quickly sped outward. Things behind the front of force were knocked sideways at it sped past. It was gone almost before it happened, leaving him to doubt that it truly had taken place.

the human brain is still my favorite toy . . .

So i’m going to see Modest Mouse at The State Theater tonight, yee-mother@#$#@-haw!!, and last night i had this dream that i was at the concert. Of course, the dream had very little contact with ‘reality’ as it is generally agreed to exist; it certainly wasn’t The State Theater as i know it, the crowd was gathered about the band on folding chairs, i was in the second row, and for their first song they began playing trombones that they ‘played’ by flinging the slides (you know, that which you move to change the note of a trombone) off of their instruments onto the floor, and proceeded to make this unearthly low rumbling warble . . .

Time is just going to keep passing.

it really doesn’t matter how many moments you spend
getting caught up in exercises of reconceptualization
those moments too, are gone . . .

but that’s alright, it’s often fun to see if you can
bend the cosmos
even if only a bit

[first frame]
“How can it be so hard to tell the truth when it always feels so damn good?”
This in a speech bubble from the jester; who . . .

[second frame]
realizing he’s caught up (once again?) in pointing out a most glaringly-obvious-truth, looks abashed and exits the frame . . .

[third frame]
a car passes, life goes on
this not in a speech bubble from the jester who leans back into frame to provide commentary on the great not much of everything that keeps occurring as he tries to define it

certainly not fixing on sharing it all here,
but in keeping with the spirit of
‘must actually do this’
voila

fiction!

- -

{partial transcript of voluntary intake statement}
K - County Psychiatric Institute
11/13/07
Patient : [perhaps inevitably the name is blacked out]
Complained that he’d met god and was no longer to be
trusted mingling with ordinary people.

. . . people called him crazy, and he was, almost without regard for how you might choose to define crazy, he’d find a way to fit it . . .

quick hard fluctuations of interest
overloaded screen

i think i read nausea about every year round this time
as a sort of inoculation against the angst
we wind up drawing in
in the winter
seeking shelter naturally
scratching out across the terrain
that surrounds us

i know why the caged mind dings

Dear Family Members that I invited here on the occasion of my Thirtieth Birthday, and all those weird internet-using-people that have wandered in for whatever reasons y’all came here, I offer this in the sincere hope that y’all will share the following news with whoever you feel will honestly appreciate the following . . .

I’ve come to a resolution on this, the occasion of, the rapid approach of my Thirtieth Birthday.

Said resolution being namely that . . .

so the promised post is almost making headway
brilliant tho it was, ‘happy belated halloween’ was not it

please stand by, we are experiencing technical difficulties

actually, the flurry of e-mails which have attempted to
describe the problem and, from the other end, solve it
are almost post-worthy in themselves,
pointing, as they do, towards the flaws in language
but that’s another topic entirely

i’m itching at my inability to finish this
and spread the word

It’s been a long day. A very long day. I woke up early after getting much too little sleep (all week) and was off to work. A nine hour day there, with two more hours of home work to do while watching the three little angels.

There is always a certain air of anxiety on the days that my wife works. This is illustrated by the fact that by the middle of my evening I was spraying off the hardwood floor with a hose I had dragged in from outside while sucking up the water with a shop vac.

Don’t just ball me
call me she said
and don’t even think about
getting out of bed
cause i wanna hold ya near
until we’re in the clear
and can see our bright future
straight ahead

you know that you got me all wrong
he said
as he lifted up the covers
and slipped out of bed
i like you baby
yes i really do
but i could never
spend the rest of time
here with you

although i’m still celebrating,
whatever that means
(herein read pre-dawn, beer in hand)
actually made it to a celebration
which was a most wonderful bonus

came home feeling the spirit
now i’m wondering why everything i try to write is the most worthless dreck
at this point i’m typing just for the exercise
a small requiem for profundity on this Halloween
munching on mini-snickers and fritos

so i’m working on a new post
this isn’t it

but i haven’t gone away
i haven’t died

the dream lives on
the jester will ultimately turn up in any pack . . .
no matter how many of them you throw away
they know that all the games are going to end
so if there’s a hand in front of you . . .

ante up
let’s play

my life’s a little sad right now
my life’s a little bit sad
my dreams a little bit bad right now
my mind a little bit mad

my peace is a little bit rent right now
my peace it has been rent
that’s not really what i just meant right now
what’s left is a little bit bent

I threw myself off a mountain
Aiming at the sky
And hit what I was after
Like that, learned how to fly

I ran down that mountain
Without earth beneath my feet
Feelings torn out of reality
Not one of the sheep

Bring me back that heartfelt lover
Bring back the tattered shore
I’ll trade my wine for water
If that’s what you’re looking for

i’ve too much passion
or not enough
depending on the situation
and how embarrassed i can be made

sometimes hollow
at others overflowing
my soul is in a state
and i’m not sure why

passion is such a two edged blade
giving so
and taking much
overpowering, yet subtle

a glance can set me off
and bring on a burning fire
or a wish to maim
a fall into a blissful narcotic cloud of want