Monday, October 29, 2012

In October, I make November plans. I plan on visiting a mangrove swamp in a canoe. 
I will eat a Peruvian octopus in a Peruvian restaurant with Peruvians from Peru. 
I will eat a burger that they flip that they call Flip burgers Lord how they flip so. 
I plan on, but might not will, eat hot flavored popcorn and nuggets at the Cine Bistro. 
I plan on, I really plan on, looking at a museum as one might look at a wolf who is looking at you. 
I will ingest the aroma of Havana through a cigar from Havana, late of Cuba. 
I am afraid of scooters. I will look at the Black Policemen at the Black Policemen Museum.
Stephan Balkenhol, once you put a man on top of large boxes that looked like a skyscraper. 
And you called him UNTITLED. One day I will be that man and you can call him Ricky. Or you can call me Untitled.

This will be November in my life.
I will be in this museum in my life.
I will love this place of months.

Saturday, October 27, 2012

He isn’t laundry
He’s my one and only.


There is of course a third option and probably a fourth. I say the third option is: maybe. But he was tired of maybe. He wanted there to be a clear line drawn in the sand and no more maybes. He wanted the opposite of maybe: that is also maybe. And so let’s say goodbye to that. Now it is your turn: tell me the fourth option. Remember to continue to describe him as the man in the funny hat, even if he takes it off and leaves it in the sand.  

Wednesday, October 24, 2012



Our son was going to die
but then there was fish oil.
And my son didn’t die.
And there was more fish oil.


Ann wore de la Renta.
She knew not to cap
de la. 


The incumbent can handle
extra terrestrials better 
than the challenger
by a margin
of  2 - 1


I love my daughter
but I am not crazy
about her DNA


Sandy is ironically
in Jamaica


The President says
tight things don’t
surprise him


If you go back in time
you could beat up
a neanderthal and 
his popeye arms


Rajat Gupta
Galleon Rajaratnam


Peanut Butter and Pickles
throw jelly to the curb
like an abandoned lover
filled with strawberries


Where or when
is our lush life?

Friday, October 19, 2012


I can’t wait to read this pocket book 
of Erskine Caldwell stories.

Who knows who he is? 

Please don’t make me feel dumb by saying: 
everybody knows who he is.

Right below the kangaroos on page 1, 
it says that Erskine Caldwell was a cotton picker, 
a hack driver, a stagehand, a cook, a salesman,
a bodyguard, and a football player.

After the introduction there are many stories.

The first story is about a horse thief and it has 
a man named Lud and a woman named Betsy 
actually a horse. 

The second story has a man snoring in bed 
and foxhounds!

The third story has a man named Berry 
asking a question about watermelon 
to another man named Tuffy.

The fourth story has perspiration 
plus a chew of tobacco and a jack knife.

The fifth story has a woman holding her lip 
tightly (well, with her teeth.) Is that possible?

If you guessed that the sixth story had a bony king 
and a muffled whisper in it, you would be right.

Nick owns Nick’s Place in story seven. He complains 
that the boys are pretty bum sports. Boys are pretty.

The eighth story is filled with mysteries for the modern reader: for example: what is Indian Root tonic? 

Why does a crowd stand in a weed-grown lot? Why does Professor Eaton wipe the perspiration from his upper lip before he looks down at Effie? Who is Effie? Why does
Effie cry (that she is the happiest girl in she?) Why doesn’t Effie perspire as much as Professor Eaton seems to?

Story Nine: when you say “Yellow Girl”, do you really mean, well, yellow? The color? Or yellow, like a yellow feeling?  Or a yellow thing?

If you think that jazz guitar is corny,
try adding vibes. And if you think 
that is corny, trying adding trumpet.
Wait! That will make everything ok. 
Keep that horn going. Pray for it.

Even the word ‘vibe’ chills me to
the marrow - which is also not very
cool. It’s used for soup, just like 
words. We are used for soup, 
too. That’s why we have so many
words, or they us, and so on.


I hope the first word of the song isn’t goodbye
or I will have to go because I can’t bear it
I hope that in that way we are together

Thursday, October 18, 2012


If I were to visit the Ivy League, I would wonder how fast ivy would burn. Let’s say I had a match.

On the Mississippi, I would take out a little notebook and remind myself: 4 Ss, 2 Ps, 1 M.

California is spelled with brown letters. That distinguishes it from the jungle, which is blue-green.

When I traveled through Oregon, I forgot what it was like to be in love with anything but Oregon.

Kansas is abstract. My mind wanders and sprints through states and ends up on the other side.

I have been called a liar often, but only once for saying that broccoli in New Hampshire was blue.

But broccoli in New Hampshire IS blue. 

The other side, over there.

In the Grand Canyon, I would leave my jeep and sigh and I would say: This is grand.

Monday, October 15, 2012

If you take out all the in between parts, you could say that he bought a candy bar in order to meet a girl that he wanted to fall in love with. If you put the parts back in, it becomes very mundane. Either way, he met no one.

Sunday, October 14, 2012

Love is walking through that busy city and thinking: somewhere she is in this busy city too, until she isn’t but you never want to know that and so you never ask and you always say “somewhere she is...”
A planet made of diamond
would still be an impossible planet

Thursday, October 11, 2012


The doctor on TV asked me if I would like take a survey and I said yes. After I took the survey, she suggested that I get regular exercise, eat properly, make a point of talking to friends regularly, consult a pastor, engage in meditation, consider medication, stop blubbering. Then the doctor asked whether or not I was satisfied with the survey and her suggestions and what the likelihood of implementing these lifestyle changes might be. I said Yes, I was, and also, you aren’t wearing rings or makeup, you looked tired and pale, and then I said “I am uncertain” and “Thank you.”

Wednesday, October 10, 2012

Someone asked me what I was afraid of,
and I said: “Children” and then I realized
that I really meant “Snow.” Basically,
I meant, anything that changes. 

Saturday, October 06, 2012

I look at young Kurt Vonnegut photos for a few seconds. I look at old Kurt Vonnegut photos for hours.  There are so many more things to see!

Friday, October 05, 2012

No, I never thought of it before but yes, Roger Moore's eyebrows are indeed quite agile.

Thursday, October 04, 2012

My friend went into a giant white dome for sound therapy.

I stayed at the space ship hotel and waited.

I would chase the rabbits tomorrow.

My greatest regret was not understanding All You Can Eat until it was too late.
How can an artist have an assistant?
there is a pen, there is a clock, there are red envelopes and a mug and a bowl, but there is no happiness on this table.

Wednesday, October 03, 2012

Sometimes I like to go to the museums just to sit and watch what moves in the paint.

Tuesday, October 02, 2012

Monday, October 01, 2012

The first thing I ever drew was a bride with a violin.
I looked inside the refrigerator to make sure the brownies hadn't moved. Sorry. The vanilla brownies.

On his deathbed, he gave me a wink. Two can play at this game, sir.
I spent forever looking for a picture of a donkey.

How would I ever have known that it spent forever
looking for me. 

I could ask. So I did.

No, it said. I didn’t.
Poorly Remembered Chapter from David Copperfield:

I Try Life On My Own

I Do Not Fancy It
Real Time Analytics