I'll be posting my own comics, comic reviews, and other assorted comic oddities I run into as my obsession runs it's course.
8.10.09
23.9.09
the sea is a good place to think about golf courses
The sea will be good to you
in time / succulent bits
of welsh rabbit,
dribbling in your hair,
tastes full of rebellion
whooping ocean filth
in your sweet little coven.
Rejoice!
Oho!
Will Tio fill the ocean
with Marlin.
The sea is acne / with fish.
Swimming makes the skin / dark fire.
19.9.09
"They’ve grown comfortable with their money," I said. "They genuinely believe they’re entitled to it. This conviction gives them a kind of rude health. They glow a little.""I have trouble imagining death at that income level," she said."Maybe there is no death as we know it. Just documents changing hands."
11.9.09
destroying all content
It is important to destroy the myth of scarcity first. That is precisely what cash is for, to select an American, put him above a grave and sing doctrines to him. Taken to its logical conclusions
humans, in their own way, will destroy the bees.
This can make dolphins--and various porpoise and porpoise-like mammals (whales, otters, people, labor models)--very nervous, to the point of uncontrollable shaking, vomiting and finally, mutual harassment.
Their eyes are contractually obligated to bleed sharp white crystals that hum "This Land is Our Land." Their teeth are removable pieces of milk candy. Their toes are pieces of language spoken for at midnight mass, with tiny etchings of candle light on the tips. Their fingers, underprivileged and torn, are ugly bulbs of flesh, each a vinegar capsule releasing into the air before bed.
While Socialists attempt to wreak havoc on slippery little LA weasels, I suggest we manufacture spawning beds for humans. We will cover the beds in the LIGHT OF GOD. And then magic conception! It will be beautiful and green, or boring and sexual.
***
Did you call, Light-God? Do you need me to cut a secret from you?
We developed a software using twitter to pump light into the houses of low income families, ask me how!
Well
of course they drown.
Why yes, the little ones first.
No, it's not unpleasant to sing into the lungs of their dead little pill bodies. I find it quite invigorating. Like a frisky Danish breeze passing through my body. Like wearing those extra tiny shorts on holiday.
***
I say we voyage into the capacity of your space now, fondle up the curves of your curl, kiss the spit from your eyes. It will be such fun to see you smile at my Porsche again.
humans, in their own way, will destroy the bees.
This can make dolphins--and various porpoise and porpoise-like mammals (whales, otters, people, labor models)--very nervous, to the point of uncontrollable shaking, vomiting and finally, mutual harassment.
Their eyes are contractually obligated to bleed sharp white crystals that hum "This Land is Our Land." Their teeth are removable pieces of milk candy. Their toes are pieces of language spoken for at midnight mass, with tiny etchings of candle light on the tips. Their fingers, underprivileged and torn, are ugly bulbs of flesh, each a vinegar capsule releasing into the air before bed.
While Socialists attempt to wreak havoc on slippery little LA weasels, I suggest we manufacture spawning beds for humans. We will cover the beds in the LIGHT OF GOD. And then magic conception! It will be beautiful and green, or boring and sexual.
***
Did you call, Light-God? Do you need me to cut a secret from you?
We developed a software using twitter to pump light into the houses of low income families, ask me how!
Well
of course they drown.
Why yes, the little ones first.
No, it's not unpleasant to sing into the lungs of their dead little pill bodies. I find it quite invigorating. Like a frisky Danish breeze passing through my body. Like wearing those extra tiny shorts on holiday.
***
I say we voyage into the capacity of your space now, fondle up the curves of your curl, kiss the spit from your eyes. It will be such fun to see you smile at my Porsche again.
3.9.09
Dissonance Remolds: Oy! A Feta Defaced Her... Um... Tut?
Another "tweak" of Sandra Simonds poems from Warsaw Bikini. I think I'll rename this first section of her book: Deb Dinged Orgy Mink.
after The Academy of The Future: Scenarios and Models
do you know of the the vast, calm, still, deep chemicals covering the gaps in the deep Russian parts of our house
should a horse vanquish wolves with mortgages with its pithy eye-holes
when the bells ring twelve times / when the bells are ringing here / in the house a bell rings / to tell us different kinds of unspoken words
New York women facing martyrdom lean in against a crass architecture / two holy blue lights / one a slippery night spire / one a birth defect of love canals / they pace and glow / their face with six frequencies
like some oxygenated cells
have culture
and beards
and an appreciation for Woody Allen
so the message board goes down / the baby turns up a big wimp / we keep waking up with the same breath
is this the easiest way to turn a thumb about
an acre of science and language fall off a square of newly turned earth / we are smitten to dance and be simple ocean creatures / like our parents or like the vikings or like guitar music made ugly / the field spreads in blades and teeth each one a new place to put a letter / we glower at our words / they are as ugly as the hilltops
and now / momma / we part houses
only to drink the big gulps
pitching over nettle water
falling out big cups
I am a simple being now
so an ocean of violins swell
and my being a story
about the perfect wave
still
feels
pretty
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