Wednesday, February 2, 2011


Snow falls in Bushwick
M-train rattles overhead
sparks and snowflakes mix

Friday, January 28, 2011


another late night
moon muddled through windowpane
I should be asleep

Saturday, January 22, 2011


My glass is half full.
I don't remember drinking.
This is not my glass.

(Poem by Doug Roussin)

Friday, January 21, 2011


I saw the future
my friends were busy texting
I was left speechless

Friday, January 14, 2011


APPLY THEME


Rampant Tenderfoot
Current Protector
Inaccurate Lingo
Leisure Removal
Forward Thinking
Ash and Fire
Ash and Fire
Ash and Fire
Dark Wood
Deep Ocean
Magic Paper
Drinking DNA
Black and White
and Red All Over…

Friday, January 7, 2011


WHITE MILK SUBSTITUTE

Am I a shadow of a man if I cast none of my own?

Are we the sum and total of eight essential ingredients,

minus emotional baggage and excessive wear and tear?

If we can split the atom, the logic goes, we should be able
to gut the infidel and point his entrails to

True North. We should be able to find ourselves

on the face of the compass, by the bias of magnetism

alone. I’m all for short term myths, but we’ve
got to get the order forms right. One slip can lead

to a simple paper cut, which in turn could lead tothe slow, onion-like unraveling of my cover identity,
and since I don’t go much further than skin deep,

that’s not a view I want to keep.

Saturday, January 1, 2011



INCOMING FEVER DREAM

The eyes may play tricks,
but the mind’s got its’ games
rigged; one way in, many ways
out, and it’s up to individual
participants to rend the veil,
to ignore the hallways filled
with unemployed centaurs
and harlots, the avatars being
stripped of their momentary mantles,
crucibled in fire and restarted again.
What is really real is really
not the point. It’s how you
navigate the system.
It’s your fever. It’s your verdant
forest to burn to the ground.
We supply matches, blowtorches,
even premium vintage napalm.
One way in, many ways out.
Proceed.

Monsters