Friday, December 9, 2011

peanut butter margarine criss-crosses


less cholesterol, more trans-fat; your low income family will be highly compliant

Thursday, December 8, 2011

meatloaf with cous cous and sliced green olives served with boiled potatoes (not shown)




 2lb 85/15, 1/4 C ea chili sauce and merlot, long dash balsamic vin, celery and cumin seeds, 1 chopped yellow onion, 2 eggs, 3/4 C dry cous-cous, 1/2 C crushed wheat chex, black and white pepper (TOGETHER!). Tomato paste frosting with laurel hieroglyphics, sprinkled parm. 2 dientes gordos de ajo picaditos. aceite de aceituna, aceitunas.

Vikki Madrid


Tuesday, December 6, 2011

Albino cannonball

Reptily and Peg are walking their dogs downtown on a crimson sun day.

A light rail tour craft and bio-powered "U-Perp It," perpetual machine that runs on a series of human lives, collide. 

REPTILY: valium woulda helped that crash.
PEG: I said hey babe, do you have any valium.
REPTILY: I say hey, sugar. 10 or 20 milligrams wd do.
PEG: do do-do do-do do do-do do.
BOTH GIRLS: Ha ha ha ha ha!
PEG: No, really do you have any?

Reptily draws a leash up through her glove, and for a brief moment a fat little white bitch is hanging and choking over the plaza stones. Then just as quick it's safe and sound against her breastplate, if a tittle out of breath. 

REPTILY: You know I can get into talking to myself like a waitress at Cliff Suites when I finish a 1.5 liter plastic jug of no-label scotch-- "Good job!" or "Wow! I guess you didn't like it, huh?" But I would never-- ever-- carry around a valium jones or have a valium jones monkey on my back if I was gonna be any day the vestal virgin of all the chanklands who is supposed to be the most serene of all the glandular mutations we've seen since the filter came down. And I am. My mama and me are going to rule the sacristy with some protective gloves on. Now if you in the public, I suggest you get up to the temple and watch my slave brother Ilyn go head first into Mthyuh with his red afro burning. They call him the albino cannonball. Believe me, he's had a bad day... he'll be there. Now go. Go. Go on.

Peg swivels luxuriously, a catbird walking her greyhound.

PEG: OK, baybee.

Peg and her prize run stud, Bill Naughdon, slide in ridiculously elegant gate toward the jutting figure of the Mthyuh against a throbbing coronary 6-o-clock summer sky, a peak that makes all the skyscrapers rising up on either side of a woman and her dog look like palm trees on an island with a view of mount fuji or burj khalifa from where diana ross might've seen it.  

REPTILY: OK, it's way better than OK. It's my house, baby. A candy cottage. While we fatten you up behine barz, you can eat the roof and flooring.




RE-DO: Ceremonial Parka, 1-19-09

Flying F-Suit

Awda prees made her a ceremonial parka called a Flying F-Suit. It mocked the fin-like webbed spines rising from the crown of the K cocks and their awkward, remote-control ability to clear ground despite they priusnear chal weight. The winter version of the garment cast a squirrel-like shadow when she'd pass over the rooftops and center stones in the hives or up against the superchanks and their cave holes at sunset. It was a beloved sight, but sometimes worshipers didn't know if it was the Chama or one of her security mannequins. Every year, a dummy is shot down by flakes or caught in one of Mthyuh's middle fingers of flame.

Sunday, December 4, 2011

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?

Thursday, December 1, 2011

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.

Tuesday, November 29, 2011

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.

Friday, November 25, 2011

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

Saturday, November 19, 2011

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 

Sunday, November 13, 2011

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

Thursday, November 10, 2011

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

Friday, November 4, 2011

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

Saturday, October 29, 2011

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

Tuesday, October 25, 2011

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


Friday, October 21, 2011

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."

Monday, October 17, 2011

Sunday, October 16, 2011

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

Saturday, October 15, 2011