whiskey

whiskey
gets me so drunk i could write a novel on my arm
and in the morning i would discover
i was not using a pen but a fork

Chipped Tooth

I chipped my tooth trying to hold a full pint of beer with my teeth & for about a month it caused me to rub two of my front teeth together in a nervous and threatening manner while I was walking down the sidewalk, walking towards people on the sidewalk, while I was walking across crosswalks I filed away with one tooth on the other while, apparently "staring down" aggressive right-turners on their way to big meetings with big shoes and big suits: Some of these aggressive right-turners were not right-turners at all but a delivery truck driver named Tyrone, who while I continued walking parked his truck two blocks behind me and punched me in the eye in front of a flower shoppe where I decided not to order flowers for my mother but to send her a bonsai tree over the internet, and through the window of the flower shoppe, on the curb where I was punched in the eye for having a chipped tooth a man got out of a cab holding an attache in one hand and talking on the cell phone with his other hand and holding a coffee cup with his nose. No: not his nose but holding the cup too close to his nose which burnt his nostrils causing him to sneer and as I walked out of the flower shoppe his burning nose sneered at me & I gritted my teeth and (apparently) scowled at him through my bruised brow

The Post Pub

A booze-faced journalists' drinking hole
A breath from their commentary fills my shot glass
The contents of the shot glass are tipped back to fill my head
The booze-faced journalist will harness the power of gravity to feed his alcoholism
It's a different world
One that's dark and serves beer

News Vet

the great parallax is in my living room
I'm sitting frontline on the war of Muslims, Christians, and Jews
robot corporations fighting oil-rich nations
my remote is my rifle when I watch the news
commercials, my only torture (McCain my sole supporter)
vector vests won't stop the casualties or the effects of bad press
my couch is my bunker when I watch the news
the great parallax of war is in my living room

National Gallery East Wing

Streets imitate Trails
Buildings imitate Shelters
Pens imitate Sticks
Sinks imitate Springs
Drums imitate Thunder
Horns the Wind
and Art imitates Life

Small Square Window

outside blue wind blows between buildings that aren't houses but are homes/ cool air drops its weight into bricks/ smell doesn't travel well in the winter/ steamy alleys seem cleaner

Bardic Thanks

Somewhere over Ragged Mountain, Past the Albemarle Square, I took up the invitation to have a good Thanksgiving there. I was greeted on the hilltop by an injured pack of dogs, They my guides into the table where the feast was laid out grand. (My momentum grew so eating that I nearly took my hand.) We ate and drank into the twilight, Forget the early morning sun. And the wine continued pouring, And the hymns were being sung. I finally realized in the morning how this thankful thing was done. Thank You Andrew and your family, Thank you Thank you, It was fun.

Birthdays Party

Kokopoolis, a great place to celebrate the birth of Kahtlene and Joyce. They both turned 21.

Strange Visitors:Eccentric Genius

Me and Mike Anderson went to visit Andrew Campbell.
. . .

When he picked us up at the Metro we all had to sit in the front seat because the back seat was full of carpet.

. . .

Andrew listens to my worried voice on his answering machine.

. . .

Andrew used his Hasslblad Camera to take lots of pictures. (Almost to an uncomfortable level.)

. . .

Until Andrew found some wood glue I was going to fix one of his chairs with a jumprope.

. . .

Andrew kept his larger plant in the kitchen sink for easy watering.

. . .

Before it got too late, we got a ride back to the Metro.

. . .

Mike showed Andrew how to used his car stereo. Andrew thought it was broken.

. . .

Late night in the Metro we waited as a couple argued over their infant.

. . .

Finally, we are back in Chinatown after a strange night out. We will be visiting Andrew again in the future.

LaRouche and Cheney are Bedfellows

My good friend Casey Smith took this picture of me today. There aren't too many people in DC who like Dick Cheney, but there are probably fewer who like Lyndon LaRouche. He has his cult of young people stand on street corners, a non-partisan annoyance. Today while I was waiting for the evening light I decided to stand by the LaRouche Cult with a sign of my own, "LAROUCHE AND CHENEY ARE BEDFELLOWS!"

Thesis Thinking

Our class will have its pre-thesis show in a couple weeks. Choosing the photos we will use had everyone crazy in class last night. Kevin and Daniel (one of our instructors) do some heavy thinking in the hall.