Thursday, April 29, 2010


By geova, After Sean S’s pantalooz

dear wacky

yellow plastic’s

so full

so much

viewers get lost

in a second

like trousers across the globe

too flippin fast

who walks into a horse bar?

why? he says

doc’s doing my family



pantalooz by sean s

Oh dear. My hair's hairs unwashed.
Why I can't just DO a thing
I must addition cost.

Your portmandoollarloondoubleaux
O wacky neotropes
O Shakespeherian

Zoo spending has increased a yellow
fog on our checkbooks and plastic
Our plasbooks, our maze, the mayzoo, zoonpants pantlaps, pantflaps, zoopants
arghsonovaon our wheres, ou wheres we do not know.
Congratulations, it's a clown!
I am
excited and yoghurt no, and yoghurt, yes!
so much. so full.

so much. so full. so much.
Viewers, Middle America, fellow tax evaders, this race is tighter than Charo's pants.
You'd get lost down there (I have (this was not paren
parenthetical, but this is, mea culpa)

forget to come upThat's for air.
That's no moon! That's a space station in pinstripes.

Let's get forrealz for a second.
The fact is that we're still stuck with Kan
the last 2000 yrs have been nothing but an oscillation
(let's see 20, 18 19, y3s) a stiff wind,
we are returning between two poles.
Yes, the north and the south! And now they are flipping like pants. trousers!
across thte entire globe. the globe, yo.
pretty soon they will be flipping too flippin fast to see them, that's how fast
this race is.

Knock knock.
Who's there, there.
A hoarse walks into a bar.
A horse walks into a bar who?
The bartender says, Why the long face?, and he says, I caught this drinking problem from

my doctor and it's destroying my family. No goddammit, wait a second

Tuesday, April 27, 2010

on the road Meeting three quarks for muster mike by sean s

)after Justine el-Khazen's not a word

To say How we use a language
pulls us and our words apart like quarks.

A drench morn
The wind becomes aeroplanes in the trees.
All that waving take me

on empty Sunday walls llsh

The Threes green is still yellow.
Elbows on the counter and watching the waitress barista's ass.

A rainy empty Sunday morning walks into the crepery. Y
I need to do those dthings I'm supposed to

do everyday.
Lisht are not supposed to live that long. Flaring Flare with check
marks, scribbles and Strike-throughs.

My jojürnal has lost its virginity thank the fuckit.
The Sunday keeps pushing out pedestriansa umbrellsta
papers twirling.
All numbers made of three, elementary
partiecles. Moody slow aeorplanes. Typing drugged through the even

somethine    sleepy    in my torso is


Saturday, April 24, 2010

Untitled Riff by JW

after JH's Untitled

lust and
a ring
i realise
in the sink)

a ring
and a
and a
lust and a


i sink
the dishes
and leave

Thursday, April 22, 2010

In Limbo, If Pleasantly by Robert M Keefe

The bag lady with the paper bag full of paperbacks stands indecisive at the coffee shop counter. I know that feeling.

SwedeX + 5 by Robert M Keefe

After Untitled by JH

washing the organ of speech i realize
kitchen-refuse and affection
leave a curl in the discount-rate

(key: tallrik - talorgan, kättja - köksavfall, omständighet - onatur, ring - ringla, diskho - diskonto)

Wednesday, April 21, 2010

Not a word by Justine el-Khazen

After Alone, they are a-maze (by JKD), Everyone's having children now by Jonathan Regier, and Everyday Includes Today by Lisa Pasold.

Magnets are the maps,
world smoothed over:
things that settle beyond the GPS.

An aeroplane arrives,
and it’s all over.

Mourning and noon agree blankly.
Night and the numbers:
10, 9, 7, 8.

Blood of the children,
black and level.
Vines map the body
in thick braids and ladders
of blood,
of blood

(children included).

A bridegroom opens the door.

Thursday, April 15, 2010

Alone, they are a-maze (by JKD)

After Everyone's having children now by Jonathan Regier, and Everyday Includes Today by Lisa Pasold.

A bridegroom throws open the doors:
playing in the soil, mourning noon and night,
The madcap flatterer’s leafing through the butterflies.
A cup, a paper doily, the fix-it maman
cannot quite re-stitch the happy couple back together.
You listen in closely, you can hear the whispers:
Where has she gone? And, hence, to Mexico!
We clink our glasses with everyone’s children—
or vines. And then it is we begin to agree blankly:
Finland is a fine place to be if you are finicky. Or nimble.
He will drink his exquisite coffee though the dogs bark
and not say a word about the magnets
soaking in their blood, or the hemlock she’s just plucked.
Sympathies? Whichever happens to come before 8am.
I say it will all be fine again. The world smoothed over.
Just wait or shake it a little bit.
Scraps of blown papers settle beyond the GPS.
But at 9 o'clock, when you think it’s all over, I hear him say:
I suppose I should have tagged her. An aeroplane arrives.
Will you sit a little while longer before you shimmer?

Friday, April 9, 2010

every day includes today by lisa pasold

after Everyone's having children now... by JR

At 8 o'clock it is a maze;
At 9 o'clock, an aeroplane arrives;
At 10 o'clock all is possible; wash your grubby little hands.
There is everything to soil.
It is a few minutes after 10 o'clock.
Visit 'burn all your regrets' at
At 7 o'clock, none of this has happened.
At midnight, you are basking in the reflected glory
of being able to say no, I have nothing to declare, it is gone
entirely now and I am leaving on that jet plane
with my small fluffy dog.
At ten minutes after midnight, your taxi is waiting in Mexico.
Everything is possible.
The dog is barking.
Flames lick at your fingers.

Thursday, April 8, 2010

I've an urge to talk to you by JW

After Laura Mullen's "I've an urge to say I miss you, but I don't know who I'm talking to." from the Bride Journal video post on her blog afterIwasdead

"I've an urge to talk to you", you say. "But Miss I, I don't know who I'm
talking to Miss... but, I've an urge too". You say: "I, I don't know who I'm
missing". I urge you to say who I am. Aye, I have to know. But don't talk
to talk. To urge. I say: "I've missed you, but I don't know who I am."

"I don't know who I am, but I've missed you", I say. To talk. To urge.
But have I? I don't know. Aye, I urge you to talk: to say who I'm missing.
"I don't know who you're missing." But I say: "I, I've an urge to talk to
I-don't-know-who Miss." And you say: "Aye, I, I've an urge to talk too."