The folks of Strange Cage have been kind & wise enough to clone a tiny mutant birthed by Gary J. Shipley and I named Flavored Apocalypse. Its offspring may be adopted here


Excerpts:

2 Poems

DEAD ART SHOW

This morning the messiah was resurrected then forgotten
Like a bathtub.
All of time is a black factory and birth
Music is disgusting.
Help me roll away inside a wall.

I was born but I need not to have been born.
That's my choice to let the shadows get me.
The only time I'm not tired is when evil smells.
You know I know me from long ago.
Help roll away the stone.

The landscape is pregnant with horses bashed by cinder blocks.
I faked them during the witches sabbath.
The avalanche bellybuttons landscapes titled in left fingers.
Sun-myths cockblock a very old staircase
Following the soul's contradiction.

I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH MYSELF

I pay my art so well, it massacres fill-ins.
Yeah, all you twenty-something hotties comprehend
Deaths of notable animals is esophageal cancer.

From Leopardi comes a remedial no man's land.
From Peret comes mayonnaise ice ages.
Biological lifeforms wage sages too slow to load.

I swell my roots to reveal the twin beneath my skull:
Bohemia and bad sex and worse TV.
He bowls half a porcupine lip in my half-grave.

About me, there's not much to say.
I move through the world with an unearthly freedom from attachment
While belonging to the profound process of change.

9 Photographs

Not only is my friend Gary J. Shipley a brilliant & prolific writer, he's also a highly-skilled draftsman. An assortment of Shipley's visual buzzings called SHROUDS has just been published by the essential Asemic Editions organized by the equally vital Tim Gaze. Egads! Enough of this cocksucking. Buy the book here.


Excerpts:

6 Composites