Prompt: Baby Boxer Funeral Fan (2018?)
"What's an 'antique vintage baby boxer funeral fan?'"
Is the best question I've been asked today.
Obviously I have no clue, although it sounds kind of like a Tom Waits lyric.
Antique
Vintage
Baby boxer
Funeral fan
Antique
Vintage
Baby boxer
Funeral fan
Antique
Vintage
Baby boxer
Funeral fan
Antique
Vintage
Baby boxer
Funeral fan
Prompt: The first draft -
Just Now -
blew in beneath
the door
A poem
destined
to become...
*pregnant pause*
*roll of drums*
The Most unSexy Poem
Ever Written
about
The Act
of
Français(e)
Kissing
*conText*
During
a Loooooong walk
a cup pull
year's back -
thRough sOMe stRAnGE proCess
best deScribed as
mOrbId Free(k) AssoCiatIon -
Passing cemeteries
were seen
to be
Growing
teeth
And my own lips
beak came
Upper and Lower
Rumble Strips
Salmon-colored
Canyon lands
Closed bedroom drapes
Concealing a startling scene;
a MetaPhor, maybe
For our
MortaL.it(an)y
And they opened to
reveal
Upper and Lower
Rows
of ivory
stone
Mirrored slivermoons
of headstone bones
Gates that O pen
and cl-se
A hidden snake
Entombed within
Rising to
Strike, or
Coiling for
Protection
Capable
of Hibernation, or
of Hissing-ly
rEve.aling
the Auditory apples
of a Sentience
banished Deep with
in a Vessel
An emissary of envy
Constricting the gnomes of the garden
Tightening until it's own tale
is consumed
A hissing mythological cousin
of the trickster Coyote,
who outwardly circles -
in annual rings -
the pack of stray ranch dogs
to find the weakling
And from within these pearly gates
Vibration sounds forth
from beyond
the tomb
of the snake
MeMeSss releasssed
as soundsss
as wordsss
Magma ssspewing;
Flying birdsss
Ground down
between these Headstone rows
What once was living
Returns home
To the Other Sighed
of our Pearly Gates...
To the Other Side
of the Rippling Mere...
"pulp, dentin, enamel, cementum"
({being the first draft of}
DisOrientAtion pOeM # 3)
Our tongues
push past
their pearly gates -
those top
and bottom rows
of naked bone
headstones -
At last,
alas,
to taste
their mates
And
WE mIght rIse Up frOM
oUr gRAVEs, tHat
WE mEyEght pArt.ake
of a taste
of the tOMb
of an other;
Pushed forth
from the wOMb
of anOther
mOther
Prompt: tOwaRds PerSighval's Cliff's-eYed,
Noctural,
Internal,
All-Dust Huxtable
doctoral DoORs"
(being a Gerry-at-Trick,
Van sent,
Jeremiad
containing
A Very Spacial High Coo Epi Sewed
wI.T.hIN)
OR
"@BeneATh MeYe AvAtari's
cElLF-M(e)Y(e)THall{{-slASH-M(e)Y(e)call}}lodge jickle Safari
Can o' pee"
...
e11:11even yEars aGo toDay
vIa eYe -
oNe sin(g) gull AvaTar of
dOUble-cOiling Sentience
S(c)e(n)t to veSSel,
sOarIng snaKingly, oVer and
amongst a hArbor
of billions;
riding in a latter-day-
Atari-like,
Can o' peed,
online,
fore WhEELed
third di(e) drive -
S(c)ent eYe ants
I.T.self
Updated 1 of IT's
bilLions of
statUSes
In the fORm of a refer ants
(upon the beseechingly bestial beaches
shorely lining
the Meta-Avatar Prof. Isle
of thIS pARTicular AvaTaR of Scent chi ants)
to the Floor Daily
of a Nawlins Brad Funk Part tea
hinting @the.fAct.tHat
in a knot her 2 yEars
eYe'd feYend meyeCellf leYeVeYeNg in that
fAir Mark Ng-Byrd
of a City
a place eYe'd prevIoU(s)Sly
only sPent a couple
dazed as
a half of
a
High coupLe hiding
highly-cooed Haiku of haze
coup d'etat of days -
TowArds the End of that
passed sCentury
priest-ceding tHis
pre-sent oNe
(wHere tHose of fUSs
currently of age to legally
purChase alcoHoliC bEVErages with currency
dwelt for a
spell) -
fOr rOughly fOur mOnths
leAd(d)ing Up to an End-
of-
Fall leaving
A Greyhound Race
to You Stun
wHere a tHen-stunk'n'droner
of an amateur diStance rUNner
sum how pLaced
fore thin
The End of The World
Marathon
(okay, there were prolly less than 100 participants, and clearly no elite athletes had shown up for this non-Boston Marathon-Qualifier)
on That Fateful Day
That Quetzalcoatl jilted our Mother
fAiling to pLay
Our snakingly soaring Destroyer
And so it was written
in the annals
of a small town
known as Humble
Apparently
Texas steaks
U.$. Mall clAim to
HumeIllity
Yet when will Texas
finally
Stop fuckin' around
and succeed at seceding?
Pick up the Frank 'ol Phone and call
them French cheese in Quebec
An Autonomous Quebexas
Flies the most free freak flag yet!
(See Researchers note: Québécois or Quebecers?) For purposes of convenience in this article, Francophone residents of Quebec are generally referred to as Québécois, while all residents of the province are called Quebecers
Prompt: Owlcoholics (12/12/1996)
Jim-Jams sound the morning grey
Hookup jag romp, burnt ashtray
Smelling yesterday's decay
Shallow vessel, halo nay
Through dimensional pillories
We tally up our novelties
Unravel all our rivalries
And snivel-snavel salaries
Distasteful halo chaos yields
The fading fruits so far afield
"Tweek inherent," sighed the shield
Protecting knavish fawns unpeeled
Tip-toe sneak, on meaning creep
Haiku guffaw fawned by a weep
Augment the darkness with a peep
Hades, Hades, do aim cheap!
Boats drop idly, shit jars phase
As you awaken to a cloudy haze
As yesterdays form hazy daze
Whopped by these Owlish Hate Gourmets
Prompt: Beavis Belushi
Guido Sarducci
Sawed-off shot glass
Ain't that a bitch?
Complex math
and the hazard lights
and puking laughter
Canned oral sex and a
Live Studio Audaciousness
Tex Mex Televangelism
Linda Evangelista
Jim Baker in a car car with a crack whore
in Los Angeles and
Tammy Faye has lost her way
While Creflo A. and Taffi Dollar
Will make you regard the Lord's
Jism with trembling hands and
Quaking Pharaoh's voices
Cloaked in Salmonella foresight
The forceps are forlorn
We lost the love, hitchhiker
We lost the love
Two dazed in the Sun
I like the mourning
Alonzo was out of Pronto Candy-Throatshake
Milkshakes made from
The Blood of Christian Babies
Jewish handshakes on Ivory
Nile speakerphones
I want a can of laughter
Eating with your smoking parents
Phillip and Diller - The Morris's
Ears filled with Album Filler
It's cheap, and my parents look up "Dope" in the shrugging
Oxford English Dictionary
It's ree-cock-you-liss
Smoking this cannabis
Acclimated to night-driver
Skin cancer gaydom
We'll martyr any nationality of
Pies to Fuck
Prompt: When "Next of kin"
Sounds like "Mexican"
Your attention is
In the trash bin, k
id
Not on bin Laden's Maudlin Goblin Problems
Nor Obama's Modern Hamas Omelettes
When Phil Up, Que Dick
Sounds like Phil Up that Glass
Your sonata is an extra snotty
Kick in the ass
Not on Tom, Tim, or Christopher Robbins, Mate
More like Winnie Poo in a bun on a plate
Wind killer, Henry Miller,
Like a murderous Tree
Every time, Nature will out-rhyme your average M.C.
Nature out-limbs every single Hindi deity
Your lambada drinks Horchata
To prepare for me
Cold cuts and chlorophyll
ASMR, G.
When "Next of kin"
Sounds like "Mexican"
Your attention is
In the trash bin, kid
Not on bin Laden's Maudlin Goblin Problems
Nor Obama's Modern Hamas Omelettes
When Phil Up, Que Dick
Sounds like Phil Up that Glass
Your sonata is sick;
A snotty kick in the ass
Not the asses of Tom, or Tim, or Christopher Robbins, Mate
More like Winnie the Pooh
Looking right up at you
From a bun on a plate
Wind killer
Like a murderous Tree
Nature out-rhymes any average M.C.
Your lambada drinks Horchata
To prepare for me
Cold cuts and chlorophyll
ASMR, G.
Not on Tom, Tim, or Christopher Robbins, Mate
More like Winnie Poo in a bun on a plate
Prompt: I used your last cigarette paper
Fingers glowing rust orange in the dark
I rolled myself right up inside your
Oriental
rug
As you slept
at play
Upstairs
in the park
I woke up to the sound of my own snoring
Then cotton brushing softly 'gainst my face
Then sunrays coming in across your
boxed-up
Living room
As you
leaned over me
to draw
the drapes
I cleared my throat and knocked over the ashtray
Roaches, Ashes splayed across the floor
I said I'm really groggy, really
sorry
You said
Goodnight,
I'll show you
to
the door
I left my jacket, walked in the light drizzle
The first passing car: Face full of puddle
I sat down on the curb to roll a cigarette,
but
Fuck
I used up
the last paper
at
your house
Prompt: In A Dumpster In New Jersey on Memorial Day (2018?)
This deer buck and his blood-matted fur
Has turned my tear ducts into aquifers
This young buck here on the dorm room high wire
Elicits few fucks from the awkward Greek Choir
My merry drama's not for tragic men
My marijuana was not meant for them
Maj eYe Rushdie rushes Salmon upstream
My magic mushrooms make for lucid dreams
My sermons serve only the nerds who do serve me
Sick seasons of seasoned six series finales
My severed head discovered in a dumpster in Jersey
By two traumatic elves
Reason has reveled in
Holier hells
So can we build a new memorial
For memorial Day?
Can the fruits of our labor
Do more
than abhorrently lay?
On a hammock of shame?
In a sauna of blame?
A jacuzzi of jealousy?
When you promised that you
Wouldn't yell at me?
(At least not publicly)
But still
If you build!
A new war memorial
On memorial day
While your fat father rests
on a sunless Sunday
Be still
or be killed!
By a new former Oriole
Who labors the bases this Monday
Keeping up with the Jones's
Here's Adam
And a very fine centered field
to
You,
Madam
Gore Vidal
Swam upstream
Like Salmon rush, dear
Like a salesman's spiel
Like Gore buh Choff's spot
In a Swami's dream
Riding on a crotch rocket
With black vanilla ice cream
Prompt: Trucks With Balls (2025)
Staged photographs
of your pronouns and their cats
C.I.A. was A.I.
all along
by and by
Raised Fetal Flags
Stab your photons in the Cremaster
Horus eye
Tourists try
to absorb
Orbs from gourds
Aged Cherry wine
Notes of processed Chi & Chai
Whores divine
Dolphin fins
Dull fork in
(Gan)Dolph lund grin
Rays from the Sun
bake beyond burger buns
Warring tribes
Questing calls
Driving dicks
Trucks with balls
Prompt: My Lady derives
Delight
From driving late
at Night
Up mesas sprouting
Churches
We can't see
Without a moon
Past spotted fauns
Grazing on
grasses
Towards a lake landing
in June
Slightly stoned as we
Skip stones
Upon a mirror in
the Night
Ripples radiate
From pin prick light
Nary a flag
in Sight
And while I watch
the Road
My Lay dee tells
me Jokes
Jocular "That's what she said's"
With a nod
to Michael Scott
"That's what they called me
back in high school"
Is another
used a lot
Slightly less stoned
As we drive home
Black river rising
From the ditch
Dimples rise 'neath
Hazel eyes
And I'm alive
Inside her
Sights
This memory is ours
a
loan
Time once was
One could cradle
a
phone
These few moments of our
love story
I'd wish to transcend time
Even though
I know
They won't
Prompt: Alchemical Alkilinization of The Acid Tongue (2022)
Your debts are all settled
Now all bets are off
You've scored a nice little nymph
Just like a Nabba Cough plot
Your ship seems steady
Your sales are strong...
What could go wrong?
Your beer is ice cold
Your beef cheddars are warm
Your Bible is libel and
Your Torah is porn
Your smile's suspect
Your welcome worn...
Why were you born?
You just might
Spawn tain' yuss Lee combust
You might just
Violate antitrust
You just might
Earn yourself a prison sentence
You might just
Have to go and see a dentist
Your car is a Caddy
All its scratches are buffed
Your nymph calls you Daddy
And you're never rebuffed
Just know that, secretly,
You are rebuked...
You make us puke
You might just
Manifest a nuke
Come what must
Better 'fess up to your ruse
There is time
You can still save your soul
Christmas gods sometimes
Spare rods, shrooms, & coal
Your deck's getting messy
From jugular halls
Can't quite control the rise and fall
of juggler's balls
The chainsaw drops
Alongside our jaws...
*Sharkskin guffaws*
Prompt: Lady I like dat assonance
Con sonnets
Blue ball knits
Shady face-likes, passive egrets
Alba Tross
Hangman's knot
Elation fades, yet no regrets
Suffering is the means
Better get found here in this dream
Knot on screens
Buffering
Prompt: Acid Addicts in Your Attic
You've got acerbic
Acid Addicts
In your attic
They are Hasidic
And quite erratic
Torah muscle
Talmud wrestling
You've got replacements
For striking mailmen
Down in your basement
And they're adjacent
To the debasement
Of boy scout masters
And Alabaster
Altered boys
So:
What do you need?
To Break
What do you speak?
Hebraic
What do you bleed?
Mistakes
Feeding your seed
To Snakes
Coiling 'round
Muffin tops
Mushroom blooms
Under rocks
Runnin' down
Traffic cops
Shaking up
Soda pops
You've got encasements
Asthmatic bed bugs
Dust mighty throw rugs
Down in your basement
And they're adjacent
To the debasement
Ghastly Claymation
Stories of
Islander toys
And these acerbic
Bad Acid Addicts
Won't leave your attic
They are elastic
And quite erratic
Posing eclectic
Bodies electric
So:
What do you need?
To Break
What do you speak?
Hebraic
What do you bleed?
Mistakes
Feeding your seed
To Snakes
Coiling 'round
Muffin tops
Mushroom blooms
Under rocks
Runnin' down
Traffic cops
Shaking up
Soda pops
So:
What do you need?
To Break
What do you need?
To Break
What do you need?
To Break
What do you need?
To Break
What do you bleed?
Mistakes
Feeding your seed
To Snakes
What do you need?
To Break
What do you need?
To Break
Prompt: Abe Sees
Yo,
I learned my A B C's
down in Albuquerque
from a D E F (Def!) G
so hard of hearing
H I J K Hawaii
Are you kidding with me?
L M N O P
Elements appeased
Wherever metal tears flesh
Q
R
S
You get so dang curious
Drinking Tea with your V-rays
I'll take a double-used Ex
Wizened as you are
Once we start
drinking the bars
We'll soon be
blinking dead stars
From Lincoln log cars
on Mars
Prompt: While social norms prevented me from expressing this to any of our nearby revelers, Medieval Times Dinner and Tournament seemed to share much in common with our current American/Geopolitical environment.
Seemingly at random, we were assigned a flag and a card upon entry that told us which knight to whom we would be pledging our allegiance. My party was assigned a red card and red flag to proudly wave. We were also told to root against the green knight and those in his cheering section who were waving green flags in support of his victory. Furthermore, our King and Queen told us we weren't to trust the green knight or his supporters. When the red and green knights ended up being the last two engaged in battle, us and our fellow Reds were all chanting "Red Knight! Red Knight!" and gleefully rooting for the obliteration of the green knight. Why? Because, like I said, this is what we were instructed to do. Clearly, the fate of all that is good and decent depended upon it.
Yes, it was much like politics (or wrestling... or futbol americano) and the bloodlust that accompanies it. We could have just as easily been arbitrarily assigned to root for the green knight to obliterate the red knight.
God save the King and Queen!
Prompt: If you haven't read any of my recent posts on the matter, Yes, I bounced early from rehab, holed up for four days in an ABQ motel for a Glorious Final Bender, then jumped in an uber to the train station and jumped on a train to Los Angeles to move back in with my parents in Torrance, CA. I'm two-and-a-half months sober and have gained like 25 pounds on account of a strict diet of burgers, SoCal-style Mexican food, french fries, and all manner of ice cream.
To paraphrase George Costanza, "Hi, my name is Jeff. I'm unemployed and car-less and I live with my parents." It's cool, though, 'cuz I'm plotting my sudden ascent at 50 years old into Professional Poetry Peddler.
Prompt: Far out on the Western whore rye sin
I see a man with green seaweed in his hair
And he's not wearing any mustache
And he ain't got no
Underwear
Underwear
Far out on the Western horizon
I see a man in a purple tuxedo
It's double breasted
He's got a...
He's got a rabbit hat
What's up with that?
I say he's got a rabbit hat
Someone fix me a can of nicotine
Real Quick
Someone feed me an ostrich egg
On the end of a stick
Someone gotta be
Someone gotta be
Someone gotta be
Feedin' me
Testicle wings on
An ice bed
spring
Prompt: I think the Melania film would have been more successful had Werner Herzog directed it and Faye Dunaway had played her. Also, Merzbow should have done the soundtrack.
Prompt: I don't expect to return to Raton until sometime in the Summer or Fall. But when I'm back, I'd like to start a Narcotics Anonymous group. We already have an AA group in town, but if there's an NA group I don't know about it. If you'd like to get such a group started in advance of my return to Raton, feel free to do so!
Prompt: Guilloteenager Of The Year. An Old Wild West wooden Hangman platform with scaffolding and stairs looms above a proud looking teenage boy who smiles broadly while carrying a bouquet of flowers while wearing a tiara and sash over his suit jacket with letters on it reading "Guilloteenager Of The Year."
Prompt: Kali, the 8-armed, severed head-carrying Hindu Goddess of Destruction waits in a long line at the supermarket, looking bored and distracted as she is surrounded by arguing kids and Moms and Dads and weird uncles.
Prompt: A monk is engulfed in flames, wearing an orange robe and sitting cross-legged performing meditation on a blue mat, in the middle of a parking lot, with cars, trucks, and SUVs parked around. In the background a large truck is engulfed in flames and billowing thick, black smoke into the air. The monk is bald, his eyes closed, and his hands are open with palms facing upwards resting on his knees. The sky is bright blue and clear around the smoke. The monk also wears a gray sneakers.
Prompt: A Buddhist Monk sits in lotus pose among cars and pick ups trucks in the parking lot of a Walmart. He is meditating silently and without a muscle moving and he is engulfed in furious flames.
Prompt: 50 days sober tomorrow, y'all. You'd hardly recognize me. My complexion is clear. I don't look like a person turning 50 in seven weeks. Today I'm 49 days sober at age 49, and I don't look a day over 55.
Prompt: "My Icarus Friend"
My friend left today
For blessed Ukraine
Nothing left to live for
For Usefulness he'd die
Wife and kid dead sixteen years now
Sister's dead to him while alive
We spent some time on exercise bikes
Hitting our vape pens, sharing our likes
I told him he could be a
Character Actor
I'd imagine the film version of shared moments
Thought bubbles emerging from the head
Of my character
Model Mom, forceful father
More like a roommate or maybe a brother
The scar on his forehead said
there was more to the story
Like a blackened bruise on a piece of fruit
Destined for the trash
Fifty Five years old
Still a warrior
My mother's coming out in me
Still a worrier
Maybe he'll do paperwork
Maybe he'll die on the front lines
It's not for me to judge
But I'll miss him like one of mine
My heart pumps red ambivalence
My brain's antennae whines
My heart just wants a beer
Don't have the stomach for red wine
Scott "King" James was his name,
All due respect, my man
Scott James you're remembered
By the ledger by the land
Prompt: Raton/Trinidad Neighbors!
Please join us on the Eve of this coming Satyr Day, beginning at 6PM at Isabel Castillo Performing Art Space, for
"ugly sweaters UNPLUGGED!"
Yes, there will be an MC holding your hand through Your Entertainment.
Yes, there will be a DJ playing Awesome Music of Infinite Genre Identification in between sets of...
Yes, there will be poets reading their work as well as the work of The Lives of Others Movie
Yes, there will be folks reading short stories/essays
Yes, there will hopefully be at least One comedian of the Stand Up, sit down, or lay down upon the floor variety
Yes, there will be at least one band performing (((CONDITIONAL DADDY LOVE)))
And... Will there be food?
This is a Bring Your Own Whatever you Wreak/Wire Event, but we all know _ I HATE TO SAY IT, BUT_ We aLL know that Ratonians are notorious for NOT SHOWING UP unless there is FREE FOOD PROVIDED and no one answered my call for a Food Truck (and one has to pony up monies for food truck food, anyway) so NOW I'm thinking, fuck it, I make money taking care of an old lady whose home I live in SO NO RENT whose electric/water/gas I don't have to pay for so MAYBE since I desire for OTHERS TO ATTEND THIS PARTY and not to BE ALL ALONE AT MY PARTY CRYING IF I WANT TO< CRAYING IF I WANTO< CRYING IF I WANT TO instead of crying I'll just see if I can find someone to cater this event on short notice.
YOU vote for who I'll ask to do this FIRST:
a.) 111 Park
b.) Anita Verdin, who is a Private Contractor caterer and used to cater events for Grow Explore Raton
c. K-Bob's
d. Heck, I don't even know who else could do it, or even if any of thses folks could.
HELP ME FEED YOU SO THAT YOU WILL COME TO MY COOL PARTY AND I DON"T HAVE TO CRY IF I WANT TO< CRY IF I WANT TO< CRAY CRAY IF I CROW CROW>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Dream Level: is increased each time when you "Go Deeper" into the dream. Each new level is harder to achieve and
takes more iterations than the one before.
Rare Deep Dream: is any dream which went deeper than level 6.
Deep Dream
You cannot go deeper into someone else's dream. You must create your own.
Deep Dream
Currently going deeper is available only for Deep Dreams.
