Friday, May 25, 2012

Poem Recitation Podcast: WATER SPORT

Will be posting more episodes of THE NOT-TOO-SOCIAL HOUR. For now, hear a poem, just as it came off at home, here, in Busistan, headquarters Rollicking Rowdy Enterprises, me honcho. Philosphy of entertainment, mission to present an online lit mag for spoken word media.

Monday, May 7, 2012

Mountain Walks

flash transfigurations go on without license

want no enemies

I change to one thousand bats

and go away

change to an iguanna

then hang loose

not an infrit's breath ago

took the form


ate bugs

listened to the Fugs

praying mantis for one second

sixty flights of rotting wooden stairs

Friday, May 4, 2012

Suit Cases

The polyester is about one molecule thick, so it's praeternatually light, so much so it barely registers as a garment covering my cynical, charming ass. A gentle noon breeze seems to run through it, like a hologram. And I look good in the wrinkle free summer weight suit. From across the street, you would never guess how cheap the fabric is, or how mediocre the tailoring.

The suit arrived in an envelope just larger than the ones people send 1040 forms out in. The envelope was some sort of impermeable plastic, as if it was made out of space suit material. Space suit. That's how the business suit seemed, or else it's mystic protective gear for the not-of-this-world set, when I first tried it on. It fits quite well, allowing for minor sagging.

Thursday, May 3, 2012

Trying To Be Nicer

The late Fred Rogers, of the famous "Mr. Roger's Neighborhood," was a beautiful person who did great things for kids. It is so unjust the way nice people like him draw meanness from embittered loners. It's just the product of being alone, after a few too many hard knocks, in so many places less kindly than MRN.

I'd got done buzzing down some trees, afterwhich I got this vision of Fred playing the lead in The Texas Chainsaw Massacre 104, the sequel that comes after 103. Chainsaw massacres happen often round these parts, and everyone has a camcorder. No one makes much of a fuss about it. Snuff film, schnuff film, it's all just good healthy fun.

I have a conscience that actually pangs when I say rotten things about really nice people. This, along with some tendencies toward satire, can make for some guilt feelings. It's like a dairy case full of sour milk. Still, Fred donning the pig mask and charging with a Homelite is probably funny. Beyond that, he was a great person, and didn't deserve this post.