com'n..not more dog v cat !!?

material goods

Medusa had stone beauty like a covered Flexon pan simmering gravy on the burner--
cracking eggs she whistled shrilly to curl bacon where it lay.
Today I will find a man she said to no one in particular.
Her potted plant though watered was a cactus and so drowned.
Intrepid Phil as he was known to no one in particular though he fancied himself as such
and so partied in the flat with Chewy his succulent and a cast of thousands,
ventured into the city on that fateful night and found her wearing a hat
like a paper sack upon another and to what purpose he wondered but little—not enough.
She was buying Flexon for her collection, and looking for a man; he was on a quest for life.
What's your sign, she asked. He said 'Faster” and what's yours? “I'm Medusa” I like you.
She bought a skillet and Phil bought lavender tea for brewing--
it seemed like a good idea at the time.
Her eyes were large and green as a banana, changing to yellow as they ripened;
the effect was stunning in a candle lit room, the scent of lavender wafting in the slow current
of Phil's apartment spinning the room in slow motion like a rooftop terrace on a lazy Susan.
She laid a proletarian ashtray upon her prostrate figure and Phil lit her cigarette
then stood with the Flexon and a box of nails to pound holes into his plaster walls.
For a while she stripped until her porcelain body resembled Venus in the corner with arms,
a smoldering butt nonchalant in repose igniting slightly an unfazed succulent.
Let this moment last forever, Phil said, as he hung his sock upon the final nail
and Medusa dropped her drapery onto a plinth inscribed as such:
apple thy eye doth fade in the lite of yonder meals, forsooth, bite me.
And as she doffed her headdress he wondered no more absorbing all her density
in a beauty bouquet of unmeasurable magnitude deep inside of his cellular being
and froze forever his eyes remembering always their final feast.
“Oh, he dinged my new Flexon.” Lifetime warranty, better than a man.

Monsters--Naturally!

Toby Won Kenobi, ala pooka bear, aka Cocoa Puff, Duke of Fur, el Doggo--dearest little monster Toby.

so, it's the season for creepiness....

saddle up cowboys--let's go on a Zombie Hunt ! Knot now!

gluttony; one of the 7 deadly sins

who makes those creepy noises deep in the woods?

truth #1

They made a statue of us
well OK, of you...
but I stacked shells in the foreground.
Once we lay on the beach,
talked of dark matter
dripping like watercolor stripes from a zebra's flank--
it's not that far from the truth.
Yeah, what's truth anyway?
It was no secret that morning
the waves spelled truth out in bold type
as the surf rolled up onto our sandy toes;
love is truth
roll in the truth
let the grit of the truth impede your bodies
feel it invade your hair
your pores
your soul.
Writhe in truth,
leave your imprint of love
an impression
a vague impermanence.
They made a statue of us
but the tide erased our truths tonight.

Dog Vs Cat stuff

entropy fluxing

this, my submission for that mightiest of beasts, the 10th Daughter of Memory

I was a monkey on a swing
clinging to a lost reality
smoldering vacantly behind topaz eyes
reddened by my tears
saddened by my imminent reprisal
and descent into a rank position of subservience.
Oh, obsequious
no, obsequience,
yes, allusiveness is obvious
to a tortured soul
at the end of his rope.
Praise me then for I am hopeful
my hole is not so deep,
though the fissures are ragged
and they shift
yes they close without warning
they bloody my fingers
which smear my creviced countenance
unshellacable in theory
yet plastered in anonymity
and I go down
swept further into debt
like a paper boat caught
in unwieldy eddies of cumbrous froth.
Forgive me, my bones are evident
now that a goat stands upon my shoulder
leans there to balance the world beneath
its cloven hoof.
If I stand upon this pier,
behind the veil
only a boy with the eyes of Nosferatu
will penetrate the true nature
of my three blackened wives.
They are gathered now to celebrate
and hold altogether
a watermelon above their heads
while it drips the sugars of summer
upon their clavicle and breast
to be licked and consumed
by ravenous bees
striped as officials
and propelled by the handlebars
that pierce la cabeza
around about encircled in perpetuity
improbably but true.
That my demise is irrefutable
is certain and inimical in itself
at least to my mind
while I perceive the antics of those aloft.
Striving then to hoist
to stutter free and climb
to rise amid the chaos
despite the bedlam of status quo
I will defeat the parade of
the antlered tutelorians
who wander unwatching
like strings of devil rays
in a gravy of trickled down smog.
Please decline to pinch my tender pieces
while I clamber your static poses--
I'm on a mission
a self proposed directive
an endeavor to propellate
out of a thorny predicament
to heap revenge upon
beauties who stencil arcane epitaphs
upon a legacy achieved
erected
over a lifetime
subject to the approval
of material gods
and undermined by jealousy and greed
of the progeny of theirs
and not surprisingly,
mine.
Now you've heard my confession
and read the harrowing tale
of a penance, reckless
complete
unalterable.
Beware all who witness the respite
and ease of which one can extricate
in a snit
and hound the wicked
with whom to share eternity alongside
in the doomed depth of despair.
Ha ha, I have been down away
and know my way around the joint--
come play with me, my pretties.

layers

Swathed in a splash of crimson
and little else
the duo and one carried him
deceased, hoist to the brink
of their nude dripping
shoulders.
Stop drop and roll
the mantra I learned
kept me at a safe pleasure's view
out of a maelstrom
of laser beam
piercing eye infarction.
I preferred it that way,
better dead than red
bloody rolled and badly eaten.
To the maestro
a guru under a rock
I sojourned
and I learned
the secret to seeing oneself
from behind one's own eyes.
A lifetime spent in mere
mortal's moments
my hardship earned
in tortuous years yet seconds
to you or the grocer
or his priest or his mother
who lies prone now
at my behest,
the price I paid
a pittance
a ploy that will haunt
infinite moments of my hereafter.
Stop—
technique to slow the present
Drop—
to position oneself for further actions
Roll—
the catalyst to propel into the recesses
of one's inner turmoil,
a jungle maze from which to
extricate
a puzzle to unriddle and emerge
triumphant
behind the tinted lens of forethought.
That's my way in
and easy compared to some
some that involve pain
and a bloody mirthlessness
eschewed at the perennial cost
of mundane worthlessness.
The game I solved
by plucking the nails
from a frothing sloth creature
a burping squirming fur of tongues
and feeding its castings
to my gun,
wormed out of a
warm inguin, heated
and cajoled from hiding
by love and lovemaking,
and I sprayed the offending vermin
and won my way
into my eyelids
for a peek
from my own eyes.
So I was taught
and so I learned
so the master says.
Now the Sirens
bathed in a blood
a crimson tide
that flows unceasingly
from heel to lung,
drips from cutis
saturated vesicle and pore,
they sense but cannot see.
They carry the dead
and search for more
to call home
to follow them home
to dine on flesh
and eat
to sate
to cure the lesions
the sores they fear
will eat them from
outside in
and stay the march of death
their master commands
if for no reasons other than
his own
twisted
and forgotten.
I have seen it
and now fear
the end.
Alas.

after I wrote this, the first thing I thought of was--this needs an all ways 11 photograph. thanks to Robert for picking one out. If you haven't already, check his work out...it's pretty darned magnificent.