Friday, September 24, 2010

accidentally wrote a poem in twitter. more of a pun, really. but so true.

i wonder if i quit taking the pill, would i regain the ability to conceive -- of the existence of good in the world?

Thursday, September 2, 2010

ENVERSIONING

my friend challenged me to write a story about a typo. this is more of a stream-of-consciousness prose poem. i gave up a little too quickly.



It can go one of any number of ways. That's the thing about time. That's the thing about things.

You get up in the morning. It's the 21st century. It's dumb like that. Things occur to you like "I'm going to create my day. I'm going to manifest my desires. I'm going to nurture my artist. I'm going to make him express himself. hey Hey Hey Hey." But it never turns out like that. Every day is the same, in its own unique way. Every day you fail to do this thing.

But it could change. It could change right now.

Imagine, for instance, that insterad of sitting here the way you are sitting, halfheartedly vaguely interacting with a page of wordsk and who knows what they mean or whether they're worth your trouble, you are in fact on a great big clippers hip, sailing from this town to that, in a sailor suit and hat. Seriouisly. Other people have better lieves than you, that's what made them great. They didn't dream it, they be'd it.

Inagine, for instance, that instead of sitting here you are running up that road, running up that hill running up that building running up that electrid bill.

You see, you can't even genuinely put yourself in that picture. You're stuck in the hopelessly quotidian lonely little details of your own personality. You know what you're going to do next? You're going to go buy a tub of ice cream and a bag oc cheetos and go watch Project Runway by yourself. You call that romance?

But it could go any number of ways. You're swerving on an attomic level. You're headed towards Dreamtime. You've got potential. You've come a long way, baby.

So make of it what you will. This tissue of lies.