Tour Guide


Once upon a time in a desolate land
In the middle of a
Familiar worldsystem
You’d recognize it
It’s right over there

Stood a tree.

Under the tree sat a poet.
It was the last tree and the last poet.
Fitting they should die together

Thought the poet.
Fitting, thought the tree,
But useless.
No more useless than
Love thought the poet.
And the tree dropped a leaf.

We shall die,
We shall die together
We shall die,
We shall die together

And they did.
The tree lost its branches
and the poet decomposed.

LAUGH

They’re still there
A dead testament to waste
And desolation
For whoever should wander by

The commentator shakes
Its head and says
What I mean to say

Once upon a time
In a desolate land
The last poet
And the last tree
Sacrificed themselves
So that you may

Stare in despair and regret
What you have done

HORROR HORROR

Look at what you have wrought
Look at what you wrought.

CRY

LAUGH


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I Trusted You


Sorry for the wonkiness of the podcast last night. I had such a hard time with this microcast.

It seems to have been doomed from the start. It took days to record that one second of audio. No, really. Well, and to mix it. No, again, really. It was a whole thing.

I guess I should start with philosophy and aesthetic…err, my pet-peeves, that is. My biggest pet-peeve is when people, especially podcasters, over talk things. It’s rampant. Continue reading I Trusted You

Grief will fuck you up Monkey

One of the first articles I read this morning was on the mourning habits of the marmoset. This chunk leapt out at me:

…several months after her death, the male disappeared from the marmoset group, never to be seen again.

And gave chase
Looping over and…
getting tangled-up,
in everything.

Like how every pop and shush
of steam from the coffee maker
is nestled in woven loops of
never to be heard of again

Maybe that’s why I never made that second cup.

I mean, fuck—out pops a clown:
if all I get out of it is grief,
why should I even turn you on,
oh ye coffee pot o’ doom!

That was close wasn’t it.
You can always count on a clown,
though, ride in last minute,
keep you alive another day.