Thursday, August 25, 2016


Her ballet slippers and what do you suppose someone is doing with them unless they have feet the size of Anna Pavlova feet that can’t dance in them and if they loved them enough to steal them and even if they fit nice and snug they probably aren’t dancing with them anyway they love them too much
Anna Pavlova’s ballet slippers are in a dusty old shoe box somewhere saying Lo I am Anna Pavlova’s ballet slippers! which you can’t hear because of shoe tinny voices but they keep saying it anyway they hope something will come of it and they will dance

Unlikely. meanwhile, her regular slippers are under the bed, and the TV is on. At first it’s a commercial for cheese snacks, and then a ride in the country in a Chevy, and then It’s some evangelist telling us we must pray to God or you just can’t imagine the awful you just can’t imagine


I purchased a small plaster statue of the Virgin Mary twenty years ago 
Ten years ago the head fell off and I superglued the Virgin Mary’s head back 
onto her neck Rob who helps me fix my bicycle said that the next time 
the Virgin Mary’s head falls off that I should use Gorilla Glue, that Gorilla Glue 
is even stronger than Super Glue and Gorilla Glue will keep the Virgin Mary’s head 
in place for a nice long time when it falls off again because 

Believe me, Rob said, the Virgin Mary’s head will fall off again


Said that we don’t travel in a circular method, but in a spiral, like a corkscrew, like a corkscrew! Which means that you go from a high place to a low place swirling, then embedded in a tree from Portugal temporarily, until we feel the force of the ages upon us and the sweet perfect aromas of cedar and mint and plum and cassis or maybe honeysuckle and kiwi and melon and gooseberry which you are quite near for a moment but only for a moment, and then all that one might find in a garbage can: eggs, corned beef hash, watermelon rinds, chicken fat, cigarette butts, periodicals that were never read and next there is the quiet, the lack of any real conversation and then jarring, and tumbling, and  travel: who knows where we are going now? Who knows? But it’s very exciting!

Thursday, August 11, 2016


Sketchbook music made on a variety of standard VST and IOS instruments with a leaning towards older sounding things.
iProphet, Arturia SEM, Nave Waldorf, iMini, M3000 HD, iVCS3, Earhoof, GliderVerb, Flux: FX, VInyl, Thor Propellerhead, Sample Tank, SoundScaper, iGrand Piano, iMaschine, Vogel CMI, Sparkle, ToneStack, ThumbJam, Dedalus, DrumPerfect, DrumJam Tachyon, Photophore, MidiSequencer, DFX, Voice Jam Studio, Elastic Drums, Z3TA+, Diode-108, Animoog, Waldorf Attack, Turnado, Seline Redux, Arturia Collection including: Wurlitzer Piano, Vox Continental, Arp 2600, Moog Modular, Mini-Moog, Yamaha CS80, Oberheim Matrix 12, Roland Jupiter, Arp Solina, Cyclop, PPG Wave 2, Ableton Push 2, Ondes Martenot, Konkrete.


Did I walk downstairs in my sleep
and write a story at the kitchen table
all about a peanut butter sandwich

or did I get married in my sleep
to someone who knew how much
I loved them?

Either way, this morning 
there is a peanut butter sandwich
at the kitchen table in a 

movie on television that I only
vaguely remember
having seen before

I wonder how it ends
is what I always say to myself

in my sleep but not
in my dreams

Sunday, August 07, 2016

In my dream the sky was filled with ceiling fans.
And I was holding a dog named Croatia.

Saturday, August 06, 2016

I wish I had a purple car
because it would look so good
as I drove by holding a lemon sherbet cup

People would say: “That’s an attractive combination!”
while others might throw their undergarments in joy

Just like the did in the days of Franz Liszt.
But not at everybody. Only at Franz.
That sexy man simply knew how to play the piano

like a little God. If you don’t believe me, look it up.
Garments were throw. Ladies fainted.
Blows were exchanged. A glove was lost.
Un Petit Dieu.

If I am wrong, you can punch me 
in the face. 

If I am right, you can punch me in the face

Sometimes I feel like my face could
use a good punch. After all, what have I done

in this life, other than imagine purple and lemon
together, tell you my little stories, as you were
I was and why – nothing else

If only I could play the piano
like Franz Liszt before he died

and lost one glove
and then another

Friday, August 05, 2016

I can open almost any box 
and I do almost every day
because I own a pair of scissors
and a really huge toy gun
but I do not use the huge
toy gun to open anything
It just sits in my closet
but today

A little package, or box
arrived and inside of it
was a small item wrapped
carefully in white paper
It was so beautiful
that I couldn’t bear to open it
So I just put it into my closet
next to Mr. Gun and now they
are friends and I will never know

What someone might send me
carefully wrapped in white paper
and why would they send it
and why today
and why to me

I wonder if it was love

Because of the hand grenade’s natural tendency
to resemble a pineapple

It is not unusual for a soldier’s mouth to water
when he is about to lob a hand grenade

Much as it is natural for a child to cover his ears when
he sits down for a delicious dinner on a faraway isle

Or at a restaurant that says
“We serve hand grenades” – in Poughkeepsie.

Yet you must feed the soldier
and you must not scold the child

Nor should you praise the child
for the child was quite rude
But why?

What was the child thinking?
Whatever it was, he must stop

Stop child, stop

Do not think those thoughts

of paradise

Monday, August 01, 2016

A television is an almost impossible thing
how do those wonderful things travel from wherever they start
to that little box next to the window with the lion figurine?

And where do all those people in that movie
in this case from 1941 New York City, New York
spend their time while waiting for you to look at them in Cheyenne, 2016?

Then there is always the question of why they do the same thing
over and over again, every time they appear
You could set your watch by it. Although why have a watch at all?
I know I don’t. I have a phone.

But to be fair, I do the same thing over and over again every day too
Although I do vary it a little: today, for example, I cut my finger
slicing strawberries with a paring knife over the sink
I didn’t cry, but I did curse, and think about moving to another country

If it were up to me, I would live in the television set and only appear
when you wanted me too. And I would never cut my finger.

And I would eat whole strawberries.
And I would accept mystery as it came.
I would watch everything that floated my way
And live forever, sort of.

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