Wednesday, January 31, 2007

NOT FOR WORK AT ALL, #1

EXCELLENT LIGHTHOUSE, WITH A VARIETY OF BLACK AND WHITE PLANETS ORBITING IN CLOSE PROXIMITY

They also resemble, to a slight degree, musical notes, but it is hard to say which ones.

••

I find it interesting that Jack Kirby and Gene Colan both served in the armed forces. Jack Kirby drew the incomparable Fantastic Four, Captain America, the Hulk, the Eternals, etc. Gene Colan drew Doctor Strange and Submariner and Daredevil and Howard the Duck. Jack Kirby turned Delancey Street, NYC, where he was beaten up with some frequency, into Yancy Street, NYC, where the Thing beat up young punks when provoked. Gene Colan sat in the seat of a tank in order to draw a schematic of its control panel and noted that he sunk so deep into the seat that he couldn't imagine how soldiers could see. "That's simple," said his commanding officer, "you weren't wearing a parachute, were you?" He wasn't. Jack Kirby served at Normandy ten days after D-Day. Gene Colan served in the Philippines and never saw action. Gene Colan wanted to work for DC, but ended up working, at first, for Marvel, then known as 'Timely Comics.' Later he would draw the Dark Knight. Gene Colan was called 'Gentleman Gene' by Stan Lee. Jack Kirby was called Jack 'The King' Kirby by Stan Lee. Jack Kirby was born Jacob Kurtzberg. His father was a garment factory worker. Jack Kirby was Jewish. Gene Colan was Jewish. Stan Lee was Jewish. Gene Colan's favorite movie is 'The Treasure of Sierra Madre.' Jack Kirby went to Pratt, for one week. Gene Colan would trace stills from Hopalong Cassidy for reference. Gene Colan has file cabinets filled with pictures. "What use is it," he now asks, "to have a series of photographs of WW II destroyers?" Gene Colan was known for his extensive use of tints and shadows and hatchwork, a technique which drove early colorists crazy. Jack Kirby invented the 'Kirby Dot' - swirling images of vast cosmic planetry and debris, as real as anything you can find anywhere. Gene Colan knows how to turn a computer on and off. Jack Kirby quit Pratt, saying "They wanted people who would work on something forever. I didn't want to work on any project forever. I intended to get things done". Gene Colan drew under the name 'Adam Austen.' Jack Kirby penciled under the name 'Jack Curtiss.' Gene Colan was born in the Bronx. When Jack Kirby met Joe Simon, he was quite impressed. He had never seen a comic book artist wearing a suit before.

Saturday, January 27, 2007

OH MY GOD



















I put my ring on my finger.
I admired my ring.
It fell off my hand.
I yelled Oh My God.
It rolled underneath the fridge.
It rolled towards the drain.
I looked at the ring.
I looked at the drain.
Oh My God, I said,
It’s going down the drain.
I fell to my knees.
I looked for a telephone.
I picked up the telephone.
I trembled. I dialed.
I called the Hyundai
Dealership. I’m sorry.
I must have dialed
the wrong number.
I called the police.
Good. I called a plumber.
Bingo. I adjusted my skirt.
Nice.
I smiled into the mirror.
It’s not a bad smile.
Here comes the police.
Here comes the plumber.
Oh My God, here comes
my husband.
Yummy.
Here comes the fridge.
Here comes the drain.
There goes my daughter.
Isn’t she precious? I think
I will name her Violet. I
never knew a mere physical
experience could be so
exhilirating. Honey,
beware the drain.
Darling, help me find
my ring, Mr. Policeman.
Help me find my ring,
Mr. Plumber. Husband,
find my ring! Darling.
There’s my daughter.
She’s like a God to me.
I think I’ll call her Darling.
I think I’ll call her God.
Someday, she will wear
my ring, that ring, if
we find it, and then, God
willing, I will admire
it. I won’t lose them.
I can’t lose. Then she will
then she will then she will
be mine.

TROY, AND SO ON

Drifting over the bridge,
a woman’s voice says,
“Nothing ever stirred
in my breast,” as she
watched a handsome
actor playing Achilles in
a big Hollywood movie.

When a big Hollywood
actor plays Achilles, it
seems as though everything
grows still. And in that
stillness grows a great
Hollywood movie. And
in that movie people appear,

People going to the movie,
talking later, walking home,
making love, getting divorced,
going to Troy, and so on.

Handsome actors playing
Achilles say: this is good

But you know, it could
be tweaked–you know–
and then–it could be better.

Thursday, January 25, 2007

THINGS I LEARNED TODAY: 1/24/07

Between Brian Keith, Marlon Brando, and Elizabeth Taylor,
Brian Keith is definitely the most accomplished horseback rider.

No matter what you do with the viola, John Cale says, it will
always sound melancholy.

"Reflections In A Golden Eye" teaches us that if the world were
truly golden, after a while, you would really miss blue.

You can buy frozen Berliners in the grocery store.

Just because you can understand English in no way guarantees
that you can understand Welsh.

If Marlon Brando is really the actor that everyone says he
is, it’s possible that he is a better rider than Brian Keith and Elizabeth Taylor.

You can always act as though you don’t know how to ride a horse,
but you can never act as though you do know how to ride a horse.

Marlon Brando said that.

all artwork, except likenesses of Lyndon B. Johnson, by Crispy Flotilla ® 2006

Sunday, January 21, 2007

BLUE AUGUST MOON

I walk to the curb and then I jump off.

I plummet to the earth and hold my breath
and wait to hit the ground.

I think about everyone I have ever met and
all the great TV shows that I saw when I was
a child.

I particularly enjoyed watching Mr Green Jeans
watering his tomato plants on Captain Kangaroo

and Mr. Bainter the Painter smearing his fingers
in paint and saying it’s great to fingerpaint

and then my soles touch the pavement.

I notice that there is a little puddle and so

my shoes are a little wet.

But I am just happy to be alive.

Although I would prefer for my shoes to be dry.

Above me is not

A Blue August Moon.

Thursday, January 18, 2007

DEAR DIARY, A SNIPPET OF RECENT CRISPY DAYS



all artwork, except likenesses of Lyndon B. Johnson, by Crispy Flotilla ® 2006

CHAPTERS ONE THROUGH FIVE

I know there must be something wrong, but I enjoy reading cookbooks while I am eating. There is nothing like reading about the proper way to julienne a parsnip when you are eating a peanut butter sandwich. It’s funny, but I never imagine the taste of parsnips then. It’s only afterwards, when I fall asleep, and dream, and they come to me, seared in brown butter. “Mmm, boy,” I say to myself, “if that isn’t a parsnip.” Well, it is. In today’s world, there is nothing more alive than a dream. It doesn’t always have to be about parsnips. Still, I have to say, in the distance, I often see a jar of peanut butter. He is walking away, and I can’t see his face. If I did, I bet he would look very sad. I wonder what he is dreaming about that makes him so sad.

Wednesday, January 17, 2007

IF YOU REALLY WANT TO BE A GOOD COOK, THE CHEF SAID, WEARING SLIPPERS

IF YOU REALLY WANT TO BE A GOOD COOK, THE CHEF SAID, WEARING SLIPPERS, DON’T REFER TO YOUR INGREDIENTS AS INCREDIENTS, HE SAID, TAKING OFF HIS SLIPPERS, REFER TO THEM AS YOUR FRIENDS, HE SAID, AND THEN CONTINUED TO DISROBE, EXPOSING HIS FLESHY AND ROTOUND SHAPE EVEN AS HE MADE A VERY GOOD POINT ABOUT FOOD, FRIENDS AND FUN

I have five friends.
Each one of them can be found in
the local grocery store in powder form.

They are: China Tung Cinnamon;
(actually a type of cassia)

Powdered Cassia Buds;

Powdered Star Anise and Anise Seed;

Ginger Root;

Ground Cloves;

They are five fun friends.

As I thought about my friends, I noticed that I capitalized all their names.
That’s because I like them and they are my friends and they are special.

I capitalize anything that is special: Sojourn; Miller Lite; Crab Nebula; Saltine Crackers. But not hatred: unless I am screaming something about hatred. Like: HATRED DRIVES ME CRAZY. Meanwhile, love can whisper, but even when it does, I capitalize it: “Love can whisper” it doesn’t have to even be at the beginning of the sentence: “Whispering? It must be Love”–you name it, you will find it larger than anything else in companion letters.

I didn’t the first time I mentioned it because I was trying to not emphasize it, and also I didn’t want to draw attention to it, so close to hate it was.

Hey! Listen up! Not every grocery store has them, my five friends. I tried a fancy store today and they weren’t there. All is Lost, I said, drawing attention to ‘lost’’–I felt a bee swish past my face. A Bee. You ask and I tell you: that’s because he didn’t sting me.

Intermezzo:

In the movie today, they put the grandfather in the trunk.
In yesterday’s movie, the wax figures murmured unspeakable things.
And then, before that, the stockbroker was ashamed of his father, the boxer.

Act Finale:

Rouge, while merely red in France, pastes the faces of dead people everywhere.

Where are my friends? They will be where I find them. Bon Appetite!

2000

I love you so much that I will never let you own a donkey. And if you must ride in an airplane, please let me come with you. If things go poorly, together we will fall to the earth, into a waiting field of donkeys.

TURN AWAY, MY LOVE

It’s what I will someday say

Turn away, my love

and then I will say

Turn away

I will mean it

I won’t want you to see
me like this

I won’t want you to
see me

Although truly

Thanks for coming

You look lovely
today

Thank you for
coming

It would be nice
if–

Can you stay for
a while?


all artwork, except likenesses of Lyndon B. Johnson, by Crispy Flotilla ® 2006

HE WHO CANNOT BE NAMED OR TITLED, BY CRISPY



all artwork, except likenesses of Lyndon B. Johnson, by Crispy Flotilla ® 2006

Thursday, January 04, 2007

FINAL ODE: ANNOUNCED AS SUCH BY AFOREMENTIONED ODE, WITH FATALISTIC FEELINGS APPLIED LIBERALLY TO TASTE


When thoughts turn to cheese–and they do!
Do not lament the time that you did not spend–
in Corfu!

Remember your world: in the deepest of North Carolina,
adjacent to the circuitous and somewhat vernacular
rich greasy diner

How love could be so simple with merely Gourmandise!
But you say, after all, that, sir, is merely another cheese!

But with a dollop of love, not revealed, in the guise of kirsch–
wait one moment, I forgot the diner!

When love's simple prose brought me as I mentioned before,
to Carolina!

And yet in doing so have we forgotten already Corfu?

Or the lament of Agassi, so bald, surnamed Andre(w)?

The happy beatings of the Piedmont air, Mon Dieu?

But the whip of my brain takes me to it all at once,
in a snarly precision of well-oiled entre-vous!

OK, I mean to simply cohibit, but memory's impasto prohibits
and infuses the verjus of elusive glories rarebit known;

Little gestures, tiny flowers, april showers and dagnabits

And breathes instead the überman of ripe morsely tidbits
into the curved air they are heartily thrown

Performed by Wagner, perfected by Nietzsche
in a world so dear that for the survivors id est peachy but wait!

That's right! Back track a bit! Fot it is I, I who rhymed bits with bits! That could be love!
And in order to continue to love this world I will forego and forget memory,
Agassi, all things Mon Dieu and Ripe Organic Flaxen Reflections Tenderly Misconstrued

And hold what is left when all is gone up to the light, lest the Consuelo Nostalgia shanghai it
And clutch to the fevered brow of my bosom no more than the pastoral love’s Funky Nassau schtik
smaller than what one might find buried in the heart of reason, were reason to be
hiding and were you to find it in a plate of yams, buried in the yard,

Next to, say, mmm, yummy: a catcher’s mitt, owned by Grizzly Adáms

CONFESSION


When I was eight, I spent most of my time in a tree.

It was my favorite tree. I didn’t name or number the limbs.

I knew them pretty well, though. Was I invisible
in the tree, my tree? Highly

Unlikely. Perhaps at dusk: ignoring everything time.
The dinnerbell rings:

Steak is served;
Beans are passed;
Coffee is readied;

Conversations begin for example:

Where is the little ragamuffin?

Homework, undone. Spanish, non-existent. Milk shakes?

Absolutely! I am here. Yoo hoo! here I am! Who likes

poetry? Not me!





I love thee, mighty tree--I am mad about thy limbs

(Valery)


all artwork, except likenesses of emotions that are too powerful for puny earthlings, by Crispy Flotilla ® 2007
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