Tuesday, May 4, 2010



i wish i could be in my room for a lifetime, enjoying the tv as it comes at me
tv is freedom and i am free.
i am free of fears of being watched, of going numb, of being bought off
if i believe i'm free then i'm free
and can't i find in the scan lines of media the secret messages i want to see?

(photo from here)

Friday, April 23, 2010


Unless I'm in foul trouble
be frank be frank quite frank be frank be frank.

There's foul trouble in the central parts
and the central parts
mean business
mean to secede from the rest of the state
to state
things frankly.

(photo from here)

Thursday, April 22, 2010


so sad to be
wishing for the warmth of 5 years ago
four years later
wha' happened?
what it do?
"I am all you need."

still:
there's a sensitivity in me
that "digs" as in "I dig" as in "You dig?"
Yeah, yeah, yeah: "I dig". I get it. There's beauty. I want to save something.
I'm afraid of the powers that be. But I'll blow something up.


I will blow something up.

Thursday, April 15, 2010


we
have friends for a reason
if only we knew what it was.

but we do know and we can't hide 
from friends forever
no matter how hard we try
and we've tried and tried.

when we give up
on creating
consumer goods
we'll have friends
to consume with

and it won't be a bad thing.

(photo from this blog)

Sunday, March 28, 2010


There's a big tree outside
the window of
a stupid hotel.

"Find a job," says dad,
"found a job," says the stupid hotel.

"Found a job," says Taco Bell, says my stomach, says forgetful mom.

"Oh and call grandma on her birthday."

(photo from here)

Tuesday, March 23, 2010


kicked out
   car broke
got in a rental
   so white - white chariot
got me through
farms and having to go 
the worst I've had to go,
      you know,
      to the bathroom
  ever

it's always the worst I've had to go
      ever
ain't it? (idn't it?)

Now:
      at the desk
    in the office
I'm sleeping in
    'cause
       of infidelity not mine but
my blood's

Love this idea:
    sleeping in an office
living off beer
living off bread

yeah yeah yeah
love bread
love beer

can live
     by this shit alone.

can live
      in an office alone.

might prefer it
       might not.

prefer it now

to the alternative.

-Santa Cruz, CA, November 2009

(photo from of Achim Jung from here)

Standing outside the garage
was serious
enough to 
breathe in (I calm my body)
"breathing out I smile"
but then I had to look for something poignant
with a little distance (TAB was involved)
(okay a lot of distance).

Brother don't you remember the time we stole the neighbor's mail?

Shivering and the bushes and shivering and the basketball hoop.
How absurd.

(photo of Michael Geist from The Great Canadian Pumpkin)

Monday, March 22, 2010


Can't regain '05,
can regain hair,
can regain attitude
if we refrain from drink the night before.

But waking up, with the probable clouds coming in slatted
through the windows of our vision
we aren't cold
we aren't afraid
but we're not going anywhere without

a fucking cup of coffee.

(photo of Brando from this hilarious blog)

Here we are:
imagining the past
and drinking in lots
a lot of memories but no grasp
and don't forget? Memories implanted. Memories. 

There's not a joke
but a trip in it. A trip to pick yourself up from with skinned knees
and swearing in the cross walk.

Numb enough for that, uh,
memory
to embarass.

(Photo, I think, by Betsy Husband)

Saturday, March 20, 2010

Sabice's Office.

There's a guy who lives upstairs, don't flush
don't gotta tooth brush, just got one, just got
a bag from the dentist and the girl had the mask
and she had the past in a folder.

I might stop
seeing my dentist

if I didn't see him

at the fancy restaurants

with the kids who are
not good at thinking
not good at speaking
but good at laughing.

There's an amalgam of handshakes
and granddad orders onion rings
and he's unequivocal
as far as I understand the word.
He understands
the onion rings.
He understands
golf, drinks, and a nap.

(photo of my office by me)

No need to ask for assistance - it's as simple as
bed time tea and sitting on the edge of
bed time.

Routine won't be hard to capture
with a net
but harder to establish with a pause.

Get friendly, buy friends, get a drink
by the lake.

we're closed
no one came
so we're closed.

I was just doing the books.

(Photo of Ruffles from the Capital Humane Society)

Friday, March 19, 2010


"Work-a-holic makes good on promise of
his routine, routine, and now the culture is
like his room; a mess,"

read the headlines of the sports page I think -
wasn't it an envirofascist that says even everyone even he
needs to veg out and,
TV
is better than
hard drugs?

(got image from here but photographer is unknown)

Tuesday, March 16, 2010




there's futility in fighting bed time
and it's consequences (I'm thinking specifically the wake up)
but I'm also thinking of the stale beer bug bites falling from bikes on the street
as we once did simultaneously or rather one after the other and lying in grass and getting
bit. How we got bit.

You were dark enough and now the cheeks of your religion or your cheeks as
religious symbols I've seen them but there's the picture of you assured as
expert on March. Expert on the March. Excerpt of the book
on wine tasting brought full circle by your father, so ready to say,


"You've had enough".


(photo from Domaine des Iles)

Monday, March 15, 2010


freedom (what was) what was, not can be, not can't be
i grope for the bags of leaves and the celluloid because
i know they are a mark of freedom and evenness.

weeks of pleasure, and understanding your neighbor, i get lust out of
the simple market girl, video store, market girl.

god bless.

(painting by Gerhardt Richter)

Sunday, March 14, 2010


Candle light is when it's done best because candle light is the most boring -

my god get through a day no one can without two tabs keep tabs keep.

and there's the frivolous aspect of poppin' and forgettin' and the morning coming fast but it probably won't be so bad.

I remember mornings, not on the deck, the deck is uninviting, but mornings unslept nights looking out at Mt. Hood with marijuana and a test to be taken and coffee in the cafeteria.

God bless technology and god bless the child that invented two children just two or split one:
take one and a half.

But don't forget...I forget.

(Photo of Klonopin from CVS)

Saturday, March 13, 2010


Passed something, not sure what, not sure if it's gonna work
not sure if it matters.
Not sure.
But.

Eating away at beauty, eating away at your articulate mouth,
soothed by words, eaten - repeat - eaten by your inarticulate shit.

Not gonna stop no machine, not gonna stop no Princeton, no Princeton Club, no Princeton
racquet.

(Photo of Geithner's swearing-in by Manuel Balce Ceneta of the AP)

Yuckety yuck
Don't-talk-muck
is a dance
don't dad's
get distance?
Love my dad. Love my dad's dad. Love my dad's dad's dad's dad...who
- btw -
is dead.

(photo from Laura Beamer)

Friday, March 12, 2010

THE WHITE RIBBON, Michael Haneke (2009).


I have had a healthy skepticism regarding Michael Haneke for some time now. I've only seen one of his films, Cache, and while beautiful, was totally lacking in subtlety of message. The one thing I forgot to ask myself, of course, is, "Is subtlety all that fucking important?" I mean, I've always said I liked The Grapes of Wrath, and there's very little subtlety there

Anyway, last night, at the encouragement of a good friend I saw Haneke's latest, The White Ribbon, in the theaters. I'm not sure what I think of the film, but regardless it has stuck with me. The visuals are stunning, the children in the film are extremely beautiful, and it seems anchored in the Germanic-language and Germanic-language-inspired European cinema that I love - I'm talking Bergman, Bela Tarr, and most of all, in my opinion, Dreyer. I was especially reminded of Dreyers' Day of Wrath and Ordet both visually and thematically:

from Dreyer's Day of Wrath (1943)

from Dreyer's Ordet (1955)

from The White Ribbon

The point is, I've got nothing to say about this film. (Here's a semi-articulate, albeit negative, review by someone else.) Of course, the popular press hasn't said anything worth hearing about the film as far as I can tell. The problem with this film is that the images render intellectual analysis difficult (which, I think, is a good thing). My memory of the events in the film is distorted by my memory of the images. The White Ribbon, regardless of whether it's right (I've always had trouble with this; is, say, On The Waterfront right? and if not, why do I love it?) invites reviewing, whereas the abrupt brutality of Cache, in my opinion, did not. The White Ribbon doesn't lack brutality - in fact, it's chock full of it, though it's rendered mostly-off screen, or creeps in through the voices of the characters. Furthermore, this film lacks the indictment of the viewer that Cache and supposedly Haneke's other film's (I'm thinking, Funny Games, especially; a film I have avoided) provide. I'm not one for wanting to be indicted (who is?) but perhaps I'll be getting around to watching that copy of Haneke's Time of the Wolf that I've had lying around for so long.

Thursday, March 11, 2010


There aren't and there aren't and there aren't
and then we did
what we could
when the water ran out.

Went to the movies to get my mind right
but walked away with
a root beer bottle full of
water.

A warning.

(photo by Shane Lavalette)
Frank, frank
and back
to base
and a little
too
Springsteen.

(photo by unknown)

Wednesday, March 10, 2010



I've been put on
an attorney.
And then there's the fire
in the hills above my house.
I've been put on.
I'm not an attorney.

(photo by Tim McCauley)


Gettin' hungry, never
got god. Figured it was because
I didn't

have cable.

(photo by Libba Young)

Tuesday, March 9, 2010



Peaking
at an early age
wish i'd gotten
that business


degree.

(photo by unknown)