Wednesday, February 17, 2010

The Long and Short of It

Dennis awoke to the horrible sounds of some kind of creature, just munching. Just munching away. He hoped that he could escape via a gully or otherwise appropriated physical conduit, from that crazy sound, but knew in-hand that such levity might be impossible.

"What am I going to have to do to make you go away?" he asked.

The creature raised its head in its age-old way, in its cross-dimensional double-seeing and triple-talking way. "You tell me, Dennis," said the creature, menacingly. "You tell me."

"I cannot just delete my actions in history," said Dennis. "It would be a farce. It would be a joke. It would only result in me looking like a fool."

"Who grew up and made *you* a slave? Btw, I like how this is somehow 'all about you'."

Dennis stared at the creature with profound confusion. "You mean -- you mean I can actually rewrite history?" he uttered. Antagonists in dreams never use acronyms, do they?

"Who do you think is writing this very dialogue?"

"No way! Nobody loves me *that* much!" cried Dennis.

There was a deep laugh. "Yes. Nobody."

Wednesday, February 3, 2010

Introspection Via An Extrovert

Close examination of the self
is one of the only things
that will save you from
the Virus.

No, don't cry,
I come not bearing ill news
but excellent, fantastic details
regarding this plight who finds you so alone.

In your desperation to survive you took it
so comfortable to kill me, ending up
in some strange 'fiction'
of existence.

I am here,
I am here to remind you
I am here to help you recollect --
I am here to aid you in the reconstruction of my new self

from those bones you shattered aeons by, by just looking at me.
And I am also there, and could do three extra lines,
but you get the idea, and I've never suffered
repetition. Intonation, inflection, perhaps --

but I will not suffer repetition.

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

I suppose that one of the reasons I'm in New York is to go and visit the Museums.

What I like best
is when my father wraps me
i'm like 'who you rappin? fool?'
but he just contains me.

we go to the museums.

he shows me art made by people.
he says 'this is the reason they made this.'
'does this visit have a trolley, daddy?'
'yes, it does. hell, it does!'

'One of the works I would like you to visit is a piece of history, by Anselm Kiefer.'

'lol, shit, this really is a piece of history.'

'How can you just laugh at the past?' the being demanded.

this is going to be the most beautiful poem ever

Lodge in your nose, enlarge your nose.
Oh so want be Pinnochio? You wanna be Dumbo?
You want to say to lovers that you have found their
discarded noses? You want to be William,
Shatner?

How nerdy does it get? Oh it gets nerdy, girlfriend.
To the point where all my lives blend, all my lives blend.
And I find it kinda funny, when the artichoke is produced
I find I find the record skips when I'm good bloke.

Watching British production about a crazy woman called Primeval
how many names can I make fun out of that?
Guess she must be the primal Eve. The evil woman?
Why are these people being given licences to flaunt their little banter?

They need to give me the licenses.