palm springs trick room II

den mthyuh

they call you a gas guzzlr,
they say yor out, an
awl thye syuddn
yr ina mthyaphukin orbit

yu caynt yet getchr mayl thayr,
all yr stuff is in boxes, and...
an yr hair looks mentally
ill from n-x-s of home cuts

all you can hold onto is a den
of freaked out animals and the
shame of prescription shampoo;
where is the world spinning to?

Bad Paper for Tires

whizzing past Stink Lake on the Bladder Dip
gas baby got restless and bucked at the wheel
you just wait devil pup your turn to burp, flail

mama's got a shimmy needs reducing for free
tho its counter-intuitive, go heavy on the petal
as if to say it's hip to coast in on silent fumes

handbrake of sticky vinyl, stripes that we paid
ahead based on our regional weather patterns
back then, not caring who'd snag us by radar.

debt to bygone eroticism

warts grew over precise chakra points
lily pads on forks of refrigerated depth
ony lectric cd srvive in so cold a tissue

somehow it was pickled saved spiced
even empathy cd B posponed so long
for the energy to come out that strong

and they didn't throw rice or engage in
song, initiation, horny harvest ritual, pie
, because it was only an individual with

a singl eye which no one could disobey
because jumping up and down on him
would only incite the furiousnss n bloat.

bth kinds a peppers, just fr gd measure
BLACK AND WHITE TOGETHER!
Thru your senses, I feel myself a giant.

creature o. habit

in winter there are the vat dyed suede house mocs,
the wide-slatted leatherette deck thongs still warm.

if you take up the rugs you mt as well chnge house
so where you put dn proverbial hat is always fresh.

but thn yr left with living tissue as the only constant,
an dwen it starts answering back you want 2 slap it.

Donna

my needs

without the filter of loathing, there is no insulation;
tons of sentient matter teem in erry precinct, cell.
we can only wonder what 2 do about these units.

how yuv turned out makes of me something swel.
if i engaged you erry morning 2 farm perspiration,
i wouldn't care about my duty to let others down.

yet i'm a system, dependent on a few brittle cogs;
the belt of skulz born of foam from my backswing
bobs in a solid tide of need in2wich we've all cum.

Wayne 

Virusy Hanz

Vikki, can you get me a tomato?
No dahling, ahm too busy dicking arown.
Well you no i cantouch thingz since i got this damned microcosm.
But of curse you can. It's just yr own internalized can't monster wrecking the town.
But Betsy, it's a sudden onslot of a vex you can't begin to fathom.
Together we cn savage any attempts to drown r worse selves.
(this is baby jesus talking) drop yr weapons bitches. come clean.

then as always, a corporate interruption: "Y'no? Merka's faysin some tough challenges right now."

Hanz, no matter whut, we're not afraid of you.
Is that some kind of dig?
Well if it means yor virusy than yes.

Vikki Berlin

It didn't figure

wen we signed r domestic partner papers in the
taco bell attached to the arco thayv boarded up,
an I tipped the chaplain 50 bucks right outa my
wallet, not even in an envelope with a card, we
none of us cd've known that it'd end in disaster.

man show'd up in an open shirt an zipper jacket,
ona break frm workng at the local private prison
like nothing was wrong at all with corporate agre
-ements that married fasfood n' gas plus beer (or
that plus the lottery as 2 rich a gamble not a fear).

some men will linger like terraced smoke plateaus
in your life's venetian blinded rooms and hate you.
when you see them move, it lets you no they need
you, can't feed you, might leave you, may go down
with your ship. His name was Hoolie, as in "Chip."

by Mike

sloth ambulance

sloth ambulance
sweet chariot of the law
am i dead?

why carry me so far
boat of rushes
bowl of sand

rocking tumbler
mountain lion
i hope that you've been fed.

Vikki Dublin

gated punk retirement rock community

he ground his teeth so
much that his skull split

hard banshee dances
dervish rotations

tight urbane stepping
in a crowded square

bad driving tic (bad tic driving)

i can feel i didn't sleep last night
i can feel i was driving through
a toxic d'storm all day

i can feel my neck
ready for a brace
i've got a violent tic

now there are crickets
and a dog yap in porchlight
across the fence

erybody say
just relax is whut
you cn do nau

badrivingtic.mp3

a relaxed paradigm of glass placement

The point is to keep the same kinds together so you know how many you have of everything, and beyond that, the exact positioning of glassware can fluctuate and flow. It gets grouped in the random order with which it is retrieved from the dishwasher and set according to space availability, clan and whimsy.

With this new rinse agent you really relax and feel proud of your barware as if lifting it from its packing tissues for the very first time. Putting it up has been replaced with a perpetual safari for the suitable place, always ready for painting a baby's room blue or pink.

You can't say even harsher chemicals haven't been involved in the soothsaying. This entire machine needed a rutting out with Lime-A-Way. Now it can fulfill its open purposes while working less hard, and with less hard water residue. Minerals may begin to regather.

Jan
"Call me Klink."

ikea

Drop what you're wearing

Because of my pseudonym on a sex site, a whole family called me John.

They called me John calling from the kitchen. They called me John when all the wives and girlfriends were kissing their lovers at the table, but my compudate and me were just sitting in place, even though he had voted Republican and earned the right to make out with the rest of them, they called me John in their minds wishing I would just put out so they could go on with their lipid mixing, noble attempts to found a race.

In time they called me John when I whipped around a corner past them, calling out the windows of their F-150's, slowing down, thinking I could hear them, that I would respond as anyone would to a name. They feared that "John" guy in the small town when I called to complain about the utility, corner shop, hay broker. Everyone seemed to be connected by clan and known by a monicker of Christendom. Why didn't I recognize mine?

On a camping trip all the kids ran past in their boots and down calling out John come and play war.

During cocktails but before wine when we'd go and disappear into compudate's boudoir, he didn't know what to call me, and we didn't care. It was prolly just the two of us there in the entire county with that kind of romantic flair, but no one was counting. What we would wear would be dropping.

by Sylvia

the hag and the sheriff

thing in the ivy

...and because it was crawling up a wall, not a lot of vegetative girth to explore. Still, in these months, you can't quite see all the way through-- whut's a sprinkler head, a totem of bamboo. Her face, green with black highlights, seemed a shade between imagination, voodoo, amphibia, a forced dusk. He could have been a tiny human, tortoisine, a kitty, cobra, otter, fake that the pups were poking and fussing at. I only saw a composite projection of whut Braino was able to slap up based on profiling.

by Sylvia
"Why, Tom?"

Perishable human chip, bottom petal, shrink, dust

Wayne finally decides to be quiet about what's ailing him for fear of being robbed in weakness. Where before the loud complaining mostly served to warn how coming close could be a risk. In that much pain, while strong, he could have snapped a man's wrist merely expressing emphatic politeness about not wanting anything but an ear. It eventually gets bad enough to where you have to be invisible to anyone who might think you've already taken up enough of the available resources. While nourishment can be renewed illimitlessly, yor whut's not sustainable.

Shaker Motel

Just by busting a set of moves from each of the past three decades, we
Were able to reproduce crotch flora thot no longer to egziss in the wall.

Yor date on a night like this might mistake you for a culinary clown if U
Start with a romantic fish tureen up in the Vista de Arcos apt. complex.

But 3 pumpin hitchhikers and a roun-da-whirl jacket shiff cd shayk him;
Baybee juss letchur freak of another natchur come on & sign the registr.

"Hi, I'm Jan?"

Please apply

Please apply to be my only black friend;
Please apply to replace the number of
brothers i found lost along the war trail.

Please apply to be my body's lover.
Apply yr thick black, black black skin.
Come to me as soul that wants another.

Because you seem to be able to believe
almos anybody who could raise the boo
shit lever, i pitch on my knees my cover.

Donna (I'm your)
 

My Horz

I was just thinking how I'm resenting, maybe unfairly, all of my bitches lately. At first I say I'm turning over a new labia: never again will I hang my time out to dry on some lowlife hohoo ain't even turning tricks. Who think she can survive on my jism as a fix. Not so. Cuz that's too rich a treat for dependent mthyuhz cayn even work beyond her lips fer a snack o' some food stamp points fr the lil' baybeez. This is an economy fr double income, high rolling self starterz who can share meat as well as preen, luv. You got to have something equal to give if you gettin the biggest dickhead you ever seen, luv. Adoration don't make the queen, dove. She gotsta have a trade outside a shade an speckin pay in diemunz, mthyuh, cuz my preservation, above all the othyuh, is whut I spen my day lovin, not yo ass-jaded ball inspectrz with meterz on they taints an credit scorz like teen-mom newlywedz...

Ilyn

Officer of the state

I think I'm just doing my duty. If I had a family, it might be different; I'd just want to keep them safe; go ahead and compromise my privacy, trespass a little, okay, cuz if I started complaining about my "rights," I could be taken away and my kids left half parentless. I am just responding to the mechanism that was implanted in me when I myself was a child about standing up for the constitution because that's what makes you not a greasy foreigner, and what else do you have really, especially without having spawned another generation of weasly, selfish little eels.

Tom
"After all, in my capacity as technical college instructor, I am an officer of the state."

fyre 5

fyre 4

fyre 3

fyre 2

fyre 1

When crickets get in

Only one cricket is at least as annoying as a squeaky washer on perpetual spin, especially when it's in the house. The only thing you can do is walk over to where the noise is, and it will stop. At that moment it thinks it's hiding because it's quiet, but really it's hiding because it's so tiny. It doesn't even know that. But it doesn't even matter because it will start again as soon as you walk away, and it can go without good, wholesome food for days.

Jan
"Still rockin'!"

Anything can happen

As you hurdle toward earth,
nothing any longer surprises
until, we can suppose, the fi-
nal jolt, which promises to be
like wow, a moot pt, or both.

How is it we can still love at this speed
and hardly ever crossing trajectories?
When the body responds without even
checking in with the mind, is it truth or
allergy, collegiality, anthropomorphism?

Chamatilly

interface

blank approach

i love you, stop

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HhW1JMfAEFE

eye eye-eye

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=17lkdqoLt44

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mRadA7074wk

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G5r5OE_u5m0

Post History

They found one of us in a bog, but here I am in the latest possible century, encouraging my pet dogs in the exploitation of grasses. Smoking something like turf in a bowl, I'm sure I wd also be swilling infusions, eating my fellow if that were something that ever caught on culturally in vogue. I've gotten better comforts and what else. Better comforts better be and are after all all. Is my god better. My god is kinder cuz he's mostly gone. Remote slumlording is something you can't take personally. And all the better in case you want to water a little patch of ground, just so the pups can see how it was in the virgin forest. Add it to their digestion, watch them puke away the side effects of modernity/ post history. After history I suppose it could mean there's no more great surprise events. You just figure out nature is this way or another; men are just so, and that's that. Whatever happens you're like yeah right whadid I tell you. That's not history, or even any kind of present to speak of, and it sure the hell ain't the future.

Mike
"Jaded."

Deep end of your back

Twin, we're slipping down opposite sides of the economic divide:
as the wings of a butterfly seabridge, we close down over what
impales our individuality: the thorax of employment opportunity.

And I can see clearly what you can't: how sexy the dimples over
Your butt crack. The way you will always succeed just by being
Who you are. Yes, that's bullshit, but no more than every principle

We live by. You see the deep end of my back; I, flat top or fade
down behind yr skull cap. We are thankful at least that we each
have skin both our own and whatnot to throw on when it's cold.

Put away hope

when you begin to die,
you attribute all your errors to that,
and so you should; how right you are.

Even elections you held while asleep--
they count. No matter how shallow or
profound, you chose the plot, how deep.

But too there must be wild factors that
kill just as creatively, as life-like as you,
as determined, as unsure at what.

Read these last lines anticipatingly,
then put hope away for a moment to honor the
betrayeds, the beytrayeds and humiliateds of it.

Illyn

Parade of the grotesque

Fell out of escrow, still hanging on. The owner is partially invalid, peeking through the blinds in his apt, which is the room closest the office. He has an organ in there, covered in magazines. He is determined to help with the cold breakfast buffet every morning until he can retire, where, into some other all-male gay nude atmosphere.

Deeply stained camouflage seat cover. Haunted luggage cart. Corporate-sponsored parties of the lowest kind. Your eye is it jaundiced, Ken, or cynical wary. How bends a brow, time vexed by sideways-straining inquiry, counter-retaliatory scowls, discomfort of constant x-treme love pleasure to the everyday system.

Finally we couldn't extract the dishwasher. It seemed to have an umbilical cord connected to the Mthyuhphkn trailer. And between those built ins, we couldn't have even hacked it out. It was that snaky galvanized steel tubing and puddling water. We put a warning sign out for any literate and not too rebellious pervert.

Mike

clinging to a log

the battered women's counselor explained how her office had been moved out and then back into the same place again by saying welcome to my old-new office, and it was also the same office I'd gone to visit her in the last time I was battered and a woman.

we talked about how what would be the best case scenario and then very quickly following with how no, that's not going to happen.

later then there was a man and son clinging to a log in a flood. they said their neighborhood is a honey trap for disaster.

escape from country

escaped from country
for a cardio dance party,
queens tryd to gank my
watch in a back alley

A llama grunted and fell against the fence, but we couldn't catch her in our flashlight. Yippy cayotes get a surround noise effect. You, a blonde devil, go after it with all yor teeth and tongue. Appears to be your first and only life. How could you come back and overdo that?

by Mike

Desire to exploit worldly ignorance of the highlanders

This visual presentation, as well, has been shut down by the Mthyuh Preservation Society's moving picture arm. Or is it a fist??

here we are, contents of the mountain:
each of us passionate, hurting inside, disadvantaged in our minds, that we're disadvantaged or put upon or persecuted/ discriminated against personally in some way, and it's all true.

cayotes threaten our dogs/ llamas even though each of those is meant to keep intruders away.
all across the hilltops pets are barking into darkness. Milky way gets the rare honor of being the brightest.
Whut this gives us to see is diamond-hardened positives and negatives but non representational.

How about one night each week down at our place with showers, food, wine, marijuana, children playing
pong on TV, moms working some elaborated crocheted career apparel, dads kissing and feeling each others'
pecs. Laundry room and various Innernet stations are open to you.

Wayne

My alarm, his fate

He goes humming in and out the door now. The screen bouncing on its base makes the sound of industry, another mold being cut. Off and out and onto the porch to get another smoke done before the laundry ends, Roy has apologized for threatening my breath. He has explained it satisfactorily in terms of disrespect, but also mined its more intimate fingers in body chemistry, parentage and temporal insanity. One daren't meet'n the eyes of such a life sluffing off its earnest lies as an impatient foreskin will shed selves. One can't decide if it was much hotter provoking and inviting it that morning, shirtless breast against naked titties, flushing pecs at only seven paces, calling and responding along a most ancient rut, deep into which pleasure gurgles on its storied path of sorrow and shame, to a level of normally phone-only verbally pornographic violence. But as the bottom, I guess, I got to ride defense, still showing a stag horn. Roy had to make the cruel decisions for both my feverish alarm and his fate.

by Mike

On storytelling

One event fills your cavities with helium. Your shell is pliable but so hard; you can float around in its warped global seizure, or try spinning out the thread, courageously banking against walls, furniture as the hiss shoots farther toward actualizing another moment, a backlog of strong postponed beats straining adherence to the microsuede bubble til they succumb to the overwrought notion of a present that resists exhalation.

By Donna
"I busted lactose at the scene of the crime. Ask me how."

Hegemony v. Six Animals

they're here! the outlaw band of cayotes:
I've badgered the locals so, madem give
up their guns, turn to swear me off their
livestock and its wellbeing, even watering;

but what if i appeared with a 22 rifle and
some kind of plan, or just the next morn-
ing smearing the lovely pelts on the road,
complaining of what a crap night it's been?

common folk might assume by the license
the story's end, last laugh for my insightful
knowingness and gentle re-arming of the
more able, better judges of futures limited.

at the moment there are only screams, full
-throated, unstopped, bellicose, thwarted;
at this time, conversely, sentient intelligence
stands stiffly listening in a greasy doorway.

simulation v. reflection

God must have chosen me to be the one to see the beauty of reality:
seven vestal hurricanes, a golden pestilence and a billion hot and hun
-gry begging mouths awaiting in the halls of kingdom fracking come.

The way he makes a give and take is by hanging my tits out the win-
dow and walking by and saying you've a pornographic face, Dolores.
Whenever I'm doing cartwheels across this victory grass o him n his,

be certain to listen while I grunt out the hydrolic parts that drain energy.
Some say there exists a continual mechanism that can be discovered or
invented that would perpetuate the cycles of joy and ascendance, amen.

by Ken

Donna's Release

For a while it was third way or third rail;
we realized der was hel to pay if we fail;
You got a clock to stop you, a watch to
pop you soon as you come close to truth,
but this is the big time, in fac hours are o
-n the spot, effectively in the chair while
their final appeal is imminent and excrem
-ent and all you're waiting on is the phon.

Painmaster

military guys have a detachment from their beauty,
which maybe is regarded as one ant to another ant.

you might run into a buff kid but whose mind is al-
so worked out, elaborated but by horrors, not folios.

He'll love the forest, skimming waters, moto-biking,
easily switchable to emergency alert overload pangs.

This gentleman can never be your friend unless you
never know, try to kiss him, listen, coco-oil massage.

by Mike

Dr. Thong [wasted] @ the Beauty Salon

The masochist's whole thing is, "you might as well
kill me now. And enjoy yourself because there isn't
much else out there fer you'n either.

Sadist whole thing is, "ima go crazy. ima go crazy o
-n you-- less I hear a hoot. Then it's all good. yule le
-t me know what to do.

Then the peace keaper cumin try an say:
OK you two, leave up on yr weapons an
come an try an getta piece of me.

Scat Xmas: A Fart Journal

Psych-Low-Pedia say: "Errybuddy cut priusnear 35 farts a day."
So they are named:

1) I am wickit, yet a boon to you.
2) Another exorcism.
3) Drumroll of slumber.
4) Starting to sound like conscious intervention.
5) Wrong: it's as savage as it is archetypally knocked out, unbeautiful.
6) "Phhphffbbt."
7) Is it? A shy question?
8) Crossed over into fracking.
9) Is this corprate or goverment laxity?
10) Pray it was a one-time event, unrecorded.
11) Electronic woodpecker.
12) Grounded.
13) Butt-intense.
14) Weak and bilious.
15) Not at the table, but moving along the salsa bar.
16) One microwaved jetliner entree: $700USD.
17) Chicken.
18) Painful, unsatisfactory.
19) Red wine or internal bleeding?
20) The basically-digested earnestness of babyhood.
21) Cradle robber.
22) Jolly rude.
23) Hold it...just...try and...omg.
24) Does it count?
25) Heal thy moralistic burst.
26) And your mother.
27) World's most generous.
28) Santa Ana
29) Where does it begin or end?
30) Pushed out.
31) Her stalker.
32) A number of hounds.
33) Rilly dog like.
34) Afterthought.
35) Uplifting.

By Donna

Dr. Fashion Model

witchy things like locks and zippers/ fire
can bring about some situations you desire
but in the end the future is a fraud/ fake

Rough swag

We had just been talking about our days when Peg
showed up at the door with the skull from a goat carcass,
the hair mostly eaten away,
trying to reach with her tongue at what was left of the brains
through some sort of service conduit entrance at the back
at the back of the cranium.
I'd hauled the rest of the frame in two rubber bags to the local market
and convinced them to let me drop it in the pay dumpster just this once.
But the miscellaneous pieces kep poppin up. A forearm and hoof. This head.
Peg, you have a feral glint in yr eye, but you let us love you as a child.
When will you start to take responsibility of yr forays into rough swag?