Friday, February 20, 2015
Thursday, February 19, 2015
Chang K. Chang Chank Tank Chain Gang Grain Bank
On behalf of the Chang K. Chang Chank Tank Chain Gang Grain Bank, we grant you passage through our bowel. You have bled your Ked's in the bed for some bread and accepted a towelette, Jim. Now it's time to liven up to your debt and swim.
Labels:
sun holes
Wednesday, February 18, 2015
Dog On Through
He doesn't need a mouth tumor operation,
the tumor about where a lymph node would
be on a man pushing in his cheek to where
it's conceivably more difficult for him to eat.
Dogs are prone to these, and they get them,
and they work it out, they deal with it, what
choice do they have-- they are dogs, without
the ability to organize a health care system.
He figures it out inside his own mouth and
no we're not so symbiotic that I've gotta
shell out for comfort surgery when all that
any of us can do is diggity-dog on through.
by Ken
Saturday, February 14, 2015
sugary/ surgery
[Photo has been sequestered by MPS lab for mass spectrometry.]
when you say sugary, i'll say surgery, and when you say surgery, i'll say sugary.
then i'll ask you to try and say "popcorn fart" with a boston accent.
then every time i say they should..., you say but that would be too easy.
then i start naming the streets in palm springs, and you follow each one with ladies and gentleman.
when you agree i'll doubt my aptitude, and when you disagree i'll be a misunderstood genius.
when you say we're all out of corn, but... i'll say who's got a corn butt?
when you get too bold i'll act over demure, and when you are mild i'll feel unwanted.
if you say you like me it means you don't want to fuck, and if you want to fuck i don't really like you.
i'll say just got a job today, and you'll say really, and i'll say psyche, and you'll say fuck you.
whenever you say you do that, i'll answer don't tell me what to do.
if you say you'd think i wd know, i'll say you think i'm one of those mind readers.
i respect you for your disinterest and mistrust your interest in my trust.
if you say i'm mean and abusive, i'll tell you to fuck off.
if you say i'm keeping you slave, i'll say please fetch my slippers.
if you say i treat you like shit, then my answer is have some self respect and fuck off.
if you say all you ever say is fuck you, i fucking say fuck you, fuck you and fuck you.
if i say come on back, you make me wait and then come back.
if i say it's all for you, i want it all to be yours, you say you know I do.
when i say i'm not well it's not you, it's both you and i'm also not well.
if you say it's not me and it's better with he, i say tmi who asked you, congratulations.
if you say i'll always clean your pool, i'll say fuck off, anybody can clean my pool.
"for Mike"
Love, Hoolie
Friday, February 6, 2015
over the hill, over the hump
they're doing fine, being their little snow selves
they're moving closer to another part of life that's
even more native than their old selves: old selves.
over the hump, over the hill, on the glory of time,
he lies in a drift as in a cradle, grooves his runs
into ice, appears to be passing in a swift gondola.
she can unfurl her mane by perking fwd her ears
she is ready to pounce on his signal or rescue him
our routines are faithful as the planets and stars.
Donna Thong
Saturday, January 31, 2015
Thursday, January 29, 2015
horn of dysthymia
two petite sirloins with 3/4 inch swells
two medium Idaho russets peeled and cubed
half an onion thin slices
basket of white mushrooms
above in grill pan
broc crown steamed with olive oil salt and paprika
carrot-orange juice
12 oz chocolate raisins
olive tapenade hummus and saltines
two pro-biotic yogurts blueberry/ peach
Peg
two medium Idaho russets peeled and cubed
half an onion thin slices
basket of white mushrooms
above in grill pan
broc crown steamed with olive oil salt and paprika
carrot-orange juice
12 oz chocolate raisins
olive tapenade hummus and saltines
two pro-biotic yogurts blueberry/ peach
Peg
Tuesday, January 27, 2015
Snow blanket
under which i
rub my bones
finding safety
where no one goes
although it's cold
there's the weight of it
Tom
rub my bones
finding safety
where no one goes
although it's cold
there's the weight of it
Tom
Monday, January 26, 2015
End of kale
long shallow glass casserole pan, buttered thickly
drained eight-minute penne,
thin-sliced onion, chopped garlic and tomato
halved mushrooms, two big fists of kale, all thrown in raw
first lay down 3 raw hot italian sausage
dump the pasta mixture, tossed with grated parmesan
over the meat, sprinkle paprika, 1/2 C broth,
cumin seeds over all, smush bay leaves
in here and there, pat flat, cover with parmesan
topless in the oven 40 min, 375-400
sausages are juicy, as if boiled; pasta goes from
al dente w/crunchy above and below, as are the greens,
now dark purple
Peg
"meet me at the corner of life is shitty and nobody cares"
Sunday, January 25, 2015
Saturday, January 17, 2015
Guy in the yard
CONNIE: I feel like crying.
DONNA: Well you go ahead; I've cried twice today already.
CONNIE: Oh, so I'm supposed to comfort you now?
DONNA: No what's up.
CONNIE: Well, you see that guy out in the yard?
DONNA: Uh huh.
CONNIE: I think he knocked me up.
DONNA: You think.
CONNIE: You know what I mean.
DONNA: Not really since you a man.
CONNIE: I'm just playing.
DONNA: Well you go ahead; I've cried twice today already.
CONNIE: Oh, so I'm supposed to comfort you now?
DONNA: No what's up.
CONNIE: Well, you see that guy out in the yard?
DONNA: Uh huh.
CONNIE: I think he knocked me up.
DONNA: You think.
CONNIE: You know what I mean.
DONNA: Not really since you a man.
CONNIE: I'm just playing.
falling below the line
goodbye, we're
falling below the line
i see my dogs'n i're
doing just fine with
a rain poncho and a
campfire under a
bridge with a sign:
"for kibble and grits,"
a stainless Paul Revere-
ware saucepan for
coins, a last remnant
of a stupid aspiration
to the middle classes
pardon me while I
go down, pardon my
bubbles, maybe see
you on the other side
on my third bob now
boys, I say me no
swim, innocent pups
by Peg
falling below the line
i see my dogs'n i're
doing just fine with
a rain poncho and a
campfire under a
bridge with a sign:
"for kibble and grits,"
a stainless Paul Revere-
ware saucepan for
coins, a last remnant
of a stupid aspiration
to the middle classes
pardon me while I
go down, pardon my
bubbles, maybe see
you on the other side
on my third bob now
boys, I say me no
swim, innocent pups
by Peg
Friday, January 16, 2015
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