pills within pills


the world's oldest object is you.


(a video-dating profile)
“I like dogs but I don’t own a dog, I just go out of my way to interact with other people’s dogs whenever possible. My favorite movie is the one you’re watching right now. my favorite color is nothing. My favorite song is the sound of me saying these words. My favorite activity is to sing my favorite song, which I am currently doing as I say these words. The song consists of all sounds generated by my body in the past and future. The song will never end. And it actually never began. Everything I’m saying is a lie, including this. The end. But I’m still talking. I could die at any moment. I was born right here in this spot where I’m currently sitting, and I’ve actually never left this spot. Everything in my life has happened around me, separately from me, while I’ve remained still. I don’t work out at the gym; the gym works out on me. I don’t go for walks; the earth’s crust goes for walks on my feet.”


therapist tells client: I think you’re worthless.


1: I’m an archetype that only exists in the context of my own life, saying these words to you, continuing this interaction. How does it feel for me to say this to you?
2: I just can’t shake this feeling that I don’t exist at all beyond documents of me, such as this document being created right now and viewed by you (looks at camera/audience)… right now. the idea of now is a fake idea. everything falls into a scripted recorded narrative within a narrative forever, nothing exists free of context; reality is context for context for context forever.
1: Yes that all sounds very important, but for now lets just stay with the feeling. Where do you feel this experience in your body?
2: Uhh, kinda in my left eyebrow. And in my tonsils.
1: That’s really weird. You’re too weird for me. We have to end this interaction now.
2: But “now” is a fake idea! This interaction will last forever!


a pill that will turn you into a rock or a dog, a pill that makes you forget that pills exist but retains all of your other characteristics, a pill that makes your face feel fat, a pill that turns you inside out, a pill for dogs that is unexplainable because only dogs can feel its effects and, as we ALL know, dogs are unbound by the shackles of speech. (however, the world of dog communication is vast. we only see the tip of the iceberg.) a pill that gives you a continuous orgasm for the rest of your life.

THE ULTIMATE PILL: a dehydrated fetal clone of yourself inside a pill capsule; turns you into an infinitely actualized (perfect) version of yourself, so pure that you instantly disappear. it takes you “full circle” in the context of your life so that you feel “reborn” and yet totally decontextualized.

a pill made of granite, a pill made of dirt, an ice pill, a pill with living moving eyes…

“is it organic? where did it come from? does it have fat? do you know about the caloric content?”
“uhh… it’s organic in that everything is organic because it came from the earth. I don’t know anything else. stop talking to me.”
“oh, well I think you’re actually legally obligated to display the nutrition facts on the container.”
“uhh okay. sorry! next customer?”
“ah! I’m sorry, I can’t remember what you usually get…”
“ah. (slightly disappointed.) the birch pill.”
“the one filled with birch bark dust”
“oh ok yes! you want the capsule or the gelcap?”
“uhh, well, I’m not sure…”
“the gelcap contains birch oil, the capsule is dusty. full of dust. we just got these new quarter-dose sizes if you want to, uh, not commit as hard.”
“I… I… actually never mind, I realize I can’t eat dairy.”
“oh, well this product doesn’t contain dairy.”
“ok, well I’ve actually just become really socially uncomfortable with this interaction and have to go RIGHT NOW.”
“oh, I have pills for that! the social discomfort eraser, the pill that makes it so you don’t want to leave and instead want to stay around and buy more pills… and even the pill that makes you die might help with that.”
(pill farmer attempts to force-feed the pill to the prospective customer.)

“would you like to try the new frilly pill?”
“what? do the frills serve a purpose?”
“yes! see, the frills upon this pill’s surface stimulate the insides of your digestive tubes in specific ways that have been medically proven to prevent things like… well, things you don’t want. things that are bad.”
“oh, wow! such a clever and cunning solution to the problem of badness. I never considered…”
“yes, and here you’ll get the best deal anywhere at 2 for $300. we also have frilly pills for excessive sweating, excessive sweater-wearing, and pinecone addiction.”
“do you carry pinecones?”
“yes, compressed into pill form. caplets or gelcaps.”
“I’ll take 60.”
“ok. $9,000 please.”
“I have to get cash from the ATM.”
“no ATM will give you that much.”
“I’m an ATM maintenance technician; I know all their little tricks.”
“will you teach me the tricks?”
“only for a price. and not a monetary price. I want pills. and all kinds. the red ones, the blue ones… ALL of em! free pills for the rest of my life!”
“but you could just hack money out of ATMs and use that money to buy pills, right? then they’d basically be free for you.”
“hmm, you’re right. how about you kill yourself?”
“how would that benefit you?”
“it wouldn’t. but it would benefit you. and you know it.”
“but life is so good”
“death is better and you know it”
(customer stares down employee. pause.)
“go away, you're givin’ me the heebie-jeebies with this weird suicide stuff.”
(customer leaves. employee contemplates briefly and then kills self in the middle of the next customer’s sentence.)
“do you have silky milky pills? ...oh!! oh my god! help help the pill salesman is dead!”


“Isn’t this somehow sacrilegious, this whole pill thing?? What would the BIBLE say about this? Shouldn’t we just live life as God intended?”
“Ma’am, we have a pill for people like you who think about the Bible… (pulls out pill from some location) The Bible Pill! it helps you get more in touch with the Bible & the Lord Jesus Christ.”
“But isn’t that in itself somehow sacrilegious?”
“That is entirely up to your personal discretion, ma’am. And if you feel like changing your mind, we have a pill for that, too!”
“does it have GMOs? what are GMOs?”
“shut up and take this pill.”
“what will it do to me?”
“it’ll all make sense, just take it.”
(customer takes pill and vomits up brightly colored fluid. it gets all over her Bible.)


“so I have this pill that makes you feel like you fit into shoes better. (sigh) I know, it’s a boring pill. I have a lot of others that are more interesting but I just really need to sell some of these shoe pills so I can justify having ordered so many. I was on so many pills I don’t even remember placing the order. Something made it seem like the most brilliant idea in the world… fitting into your shoes like you never have before… even shoes you already felt totally comfortable in before… you’ll get addicted to this shit though. I’ll never be the same even though I went through intensive treatment. I still can barely deal with any pair of shoes, and I have to take all sorts of pills to cope with my condition. maybe it would have been better to just keep taking the shoe pills. but there was that really convincing study that found neuronal rot in longtime users. Can’t keep that shit up forever. But half the pills I take are so cutting-edge they haven’t been significantly researched yet, so there’s also that. Anyway you should get the shoe pills, it’s worth it just to experience it, trust me. There’s really nothing like it. And I can also sell you the combination of pills I was on when I thought the idea sounded the best.”
“Okay, I’ll take five shoe pills and one combination of pills to feel the way you felt. Could you recommend any shoe stores around here?”
“Nope. I’m specifically a pill salesman.”


A: and this pill over here will make it so all you can see is rabbits.
B: Oh, you mean like everything is replaced with rabbits?
A: Well we do have a pill for that (gestures to other pill), but this one will just make your life feel like an infinite void except for when you encounter a rabbit, in which case your life will then consist of a rabbit in a void.
B: Wow! Amazing! Are you sure this is safe?
A: Absolutely not. (gestures to sign) No guarantees; you buy at your own risk.
B: What?? I need a product I can trust!
A: Then fuck off. (gestures to sign that says “fuck off”)
B: I… I…



customer: can I get a bag?
vendor: yeah *bags product* want me to put it in another bag?
customer: yeah
vendor: want me to put this double-bagged product into another bag?
customer: yes
vendor: want me to put all of these bags into yet another bag?
customer: yes if you don't mind, I've got to take it on the train for an hour and the product looked a bit damp
vendor: ok I'll vacuum-seal this whole package *pulls out vacuum-sealing machine, seals it* oh wait I'm so sorry but I actually forgot to put the product into the initial bag. silly me.
customer: it's ok I'll just take the bags, thanks


playing harp is expensive because it burns a lot of calories and it's habit-forming

coffee shop employee announces to a crowded coffee shop: “a tornado watch has just been issued for tonight. also I am issuing a separate tornado watch right now specifically for the inside of this coffee shop… we’ve seen some dust particles in corners being swept up by small air currents… papers blowing around on tables… the conditions are right for an indoor tornado. your safest bet would be to stand precisely at the threshold of the doorway.”

a performer on a stage: “I’m actually only doing this performance as a form of physical therapy prescribed by my doctor. so all of these words I'm saying were previously written by her. I think the script is brilliant and would love to credit her, but she requested to remain unnamed. she said it would be healthier for me to just say the words and act as if I could take credit for them, so here I am saying them now. these are still them. oh GOD I wish I could publicly credit her. it really eats at me to just keep talking, knowing I didn't write the material, and not attribute it to anyone… but she wrote this too, and she said it would be healthier for me to do it this way, and she's the one with a medical degree, so I'll readily surrender my natural judgment—which is of course sort of fake because she essentially pre-programmed me to make the judgment—and trust that these particular actions are in my best interest. anyway, I guess it'd probably be best if you could forget about that whole script-written-in-the-past conceptual framework. kind of weakens the fa├žade of spontaneity. but this is still part of the script. everything I've said tonight, I take it all back. and this. and this. and this…”

a human displayed in a vivarium designed by aliens as part of a zoo for higher species. each person requires an environment that accommodates their unique needs. “going to the movies” is just a setup to make the human behind the glass selling you your ticket feel comfortable. they are behind the glass so that they can be observed doing this incredible thing—selling tickets to a movie! it makes them feel good about themselves for having a job, it's temperature-controlled, and as long as you pay them they'll stay there all day. the real show happens at the box office.

bad physical therapist : “great, yes, very good, everything you're doing right now is perfect. oh, well, that's probably good too. yeah, keep doing that. well, unless you don't want to—yeah, that other thing is good too, that definitely seems like it could improve your physical health in some way… yes, good. keep doing that. great.”

suggesting Mary Had A Little Lamb to club DJs

basking in the experience of the rice having been microwaved

a campaign to outlaw everything humans have no control over

my bedtime routine is just going to bed.

warning labels should be put on lemons, trees, etc. “WARNING: THIS IS SOMETHING.” microscopic warning signs on dust particles — every particle has the potential to be dangerous, and this must be formally accounted for.

“this duck breast contains powerful energy forces that will heal you spiritually from within, thus removing your need for all your material possessions. including the duck breast itself.”

a self-help author speaking to an audience: “I only lean on what is directly behind me — I used to spend all this time & energy trying to get perfectly comfortable in a chair or on a bench or a rock or whatever — today I sat on a 28lb wood crate of asparagus on a handtruck outside a grocery store waiting for the manager to work out a complication regarding the acceptance of asparagus at particular times, and I can tell you for certain that none of my discomfort in that situation could be attributed to my seating arrangement. no complaints about that aspect. one day I decided firmly that I will never again think about how I sit lean or lie on things, because I realized too much of my time and energy was being absorbed into it. now I have one consistent universal action sequence that I apply in all situations where I want to have a seat — I just bring my ass downward and if I start to feel uncomfortable I just DEAL with it, because ……… because the boundary between sitting and just touching something against your ass is imaginary. this extends to touching any object in any way with any part of my body. I never consider what I touch or how. I have assigned a simple touching action sequence to each particle of my epidermal tissue that is triggered automatically each time I touch anything, which is literally all the time. since every situation is unique, and it's hard to really define what a situation is at all, I have found it totally impossible to maintain the consistency of the action sequences. I have been forced to let my intuition control me most of the time (all of the time), and have now realized over the course of saying this that nothing ever really changed.”


corporeality corp.

an official corporate presentation by me right now:

don’t believe anything anybody tells you, do what the fuck you want, don’t listen to anybody. learn new ways to bend your appendages. it’s sad that some people live into their 80s and 90s without knowing that they can bend their necks in this or that ultra-specific way that they never thought to try before.

“well, yeah, you know”
“yeah, I know, I mean,”
“yeah, like, I don’t know”
“yeah, I mean, you know”
“I mean, well, like,”
“I mean but like, you know”
“I know!”
“yeah exactly! it’s like, I mean, well, you know”
“yeah, I know, I mean, like, you know”
“well, I don’t know, I mean”
“well, but, you know, I mean,”
“I just, well, I mean, like,”
“I know, but like, well,”
“yeah, I guess, like, you know”
“hahaha, it can’t be like, I mean”
“hahaha no because like, yeah, you know”
“yeah! exactly! I mean, I just like, I mean,”
“yeah, no, yeah, no”
“no, but like, yeah”
“yeah, but like, no”
“yeah, I mean, well, it’s like, you know”
“yeah, I do!”
“yeah! you do!”
“I don’t know, I mean,”
“yeah, but like”
“I just don’t know”
“I mean it’s like, you know”
“yeah, I know, but like”
“yeah I guess it’s just like”
“I dunno, it’s just like, you know”
“well, it’s like, I dunno”
“yeah, I mean, I just don’t know”
“yeah, well, I guess”
“yeah I mean you know”
“yeah, you know, like,”
“well, yeah, like, I mean”
“it’s like, well, yeah”
“yeah! exactly, like, you know, like,”
“yeah, so like, well, I mean”
“right, but like, you know”
“so I mean just like something”
“yeah I mean so like something”
“whatever, i just really like some things and not others”
“and I am by no means here to stop you from continuing that behavior”
“by what means are you here”
“rough and tumble ragweed means, sturdy but dusty”
“artfully constructed sentence, but how do you really feel”
“my soul undulates and I feel neither positively nor negatively”
“just blankness?”
“I am a blank being”
“and you accept that about yourself”
“as much as I can accept anything else”
“as in life knowing that you are alive?”
“bodies, decomposed, enter my body, and I remain alive”
“by what means do you remain alive”
“every statement has a hidden subtext, and every hidden subtext has an FAQ pamphlet pertaining to it. this is called the flaxial law. sometimes a sentence grows so complex that it develops a consciousness, and that is how I was brought into existence. I remain alive by reaching around things in a certain way.”
“good, good, that’s so articulate. how are you feeling?”
“a bit insecure.”
“part of me thinks I’m dead.”
“like this interaction is just a dream and I’m lying in a hospital bed.”
“yeah, I hear that from a lot of my clients.”
“great, so I’m just like every other FUCKING client of yours?! fuck you!”
“oh gosh, years of psychiatric education to be treated like THIS!” (weeps.)
“fuck you for dismissing me”
“I dismissed you, and I’m sorry”
“well, thank you, but I don’t know how I’ll ever forgive you. I might start seeing another psychiatrist instead of you.”
“NO! Please, never!”
“how are you feeling?
“years of graduate school got you down?”
“you heard me, you little bitch of a therapist”
“sorry, I shouldn’t have been so rude”
“yeah, that’s right, you little bitch of a client”
“I… uh…”
“sorry, I shouldn’t have been so rude.”
“oh, haha, no worries, let’s call it good. cheers.” (clinks glass. client and therapist are drinking martinis.)
“nice, well, so I guess I never mentioned that my dad died while drinking a martini.”
(about to sip, pauses.) “oh. how about that.”


A: my idea is definitely the truth.

B: why should i trust you, what’s your background

A: why should i take your doubt seriously? what’s your background? what have you got to back up your challenge to me?

B: why should i have to explain myself to you? what gives you the authority to question my validity?

A: why should i have to answer your question, you think you can control me?

B: not particularly. it’s fine with me if you don’t answer it.

A: beautiful. you’re unattached to my response. great, another person who doesn’t give a fuck about me.

B: what are you talking about? you're my best friend!

A: ah yes that's what I wanted to hear.

B: yep. five dollars.

A: what?


sitting behind my market table remembering halloweens of my Texas childhood dressing up in costumes my mom had sewn on her grandmother’s old sewing machine, walking with her around our neighborhood at night… dry leaves blowing in the wind and collecting in gutters…

shooting tin cans with a BB gun in the backyard. old wooden fence, dry grass, sunbleached plastic table & chairs with floral waterproof cushions. catching lizards, trimming tunnels in the hedges, flattening pennies with a hammer in the garage & soaking them in vinegar to make them shine

one time it snowed an inch and I scraped up all the snow in the front yard & built a small, dirty, foliage-infused snowman. I saved some snowballs in the freezer for years & they became rock-solid. I was a sentimental kid.

I obsessively scanned my surroundings & collected small rocks, sticks, metal fragments, bones, shells, bits of plastic, etc. my mom bought me some cardboard sets of drawers to organize my collections over time. the drawers became packed so full that they were difficult to close. when I moved out, she kept the drawers in the garage and now uses the objects in her assemblage pieces.


pill that makes you ugly

i recently had the ultimate experience;
it was just me holding a bag

my name is metal dust
i was diagnosed with beauty
severe beauty disease

everything under god’s microscope
powerful microscope of god

take a mannequin out to dinner
teach it to merely be

self becoming mechanism
toy designed to behave
tool shaped like itself

pick certain pills over others:
a pill that educates
a pill full of garbage
a pill made of bone

how to fake terminal illness:
prayer to a speck of dust,
jack-o-lantern of flesh,
die on stage as performance

a god for ham:
"god, what will happen after i die?"
"uh, you got the wrong guy, i only
control ham here"

tiny shreds of loss
a breath in an empty room
bits of plastic in a corner
a tiny meaningless pile
dusty leaves whisper
"ee ot nothing"

aloha china kitchen
teach others while knowing nothing
amateur furniture arranging
a fake telegraph operator
the moon is actually a plant
frowns in towns
tree of nothings
below omnipotent nothing


one result )

an ageless microcosm
rife with nothings
that pathetic blade of grass
structured intuitively through
lonely night triggered
vast golden memories
falling into thick folds
that disintegrate with a crackle
and shimmer rains


rain drops on slick blue tarps
run silent shimmering
sun like gold memory
cardboard box on asphalt
dried and soaked by weather

weather fake idea
timeless radiant bear
breathing from far away

breathe inward endlessly
see how good that can feel
red cloth spiral
breath brushes
windy palm


spatial kind of person

literally what is the point of doing anything

severely addicted to enlightenment
addicted to the aversions
it creeps into itself
relentless enlightenments
destroy deep self
a roof to end all roofs
disintegrate in flowers

rippling and undulating all over
the infinitely faceted crystalline
giving the traditional gift of a flower
like arbitrary everything
obsessed with playing harps
or like whatever or some shit

infinite crystal rotating
balanced on the verge of disintegration
chorus of dusts

i am a spatial kind of person
space is what i'm about
just let me occupy space

breath like trains
radially symmetrical pig
radially symmetrical smile
my crystalline experience

a machine-generating machine
uploading our personas
to update your utopia

fish around in my eyes
try harder to be more bland
family meat tradition
eternal torture universe

i hate something until i love it
disembodied injection
perfect lamb chops each time
absurdly oversized coffin
professor collapsed into a heap
basic plum knowledge
in touch with plums
happy birthday to the void

i love stuff, as they say
stuff everything, as they say
our breath, as they say
pump up, as they say
our flesh, as they say
human flesh, as they say
motoring along, as they say
air blower, as they say
largest stuff, as they say

somatic origami
destroy all of my thoughts
exorcise everything now

milk that tastes milky
dipping into a diamond
i've never felt so formal
composed of mere forms
what is a dream precisely
heaven and hell are intricately intertwined
we carry all types of blankets
any blanket you can imagine
blanket on the clouds
basketball the size of a ping pong ball
basketball the size of a basketball

new everything processes:
a thing that feels like nothing
limitless availability for you
you can get everything free now
our earth is infinitely beautiful
or something like that or like whatever

facial features all rearranged
so important it's not important anymore

want timeless nothing
to grit your teeth so hard they crack

gambling for nothings
hey i just won nothing
volume turned up dead

external experience is too limited
craving a lack of craving
ovulating heroically
weeping forever internally

to interpret what can't be interpreted
arguably the most arguable thing
realize what realizing is
proud of my relevance

split fundaments
inimitable texture of wood
disgusting greasy everything

to grapple with a grappling hook
to gracefully repeat myself
every tiny moment repeats
just a small crinkling

the infinitely powerful machine
destroying all things ever
external eternality
most relevant anchovy
help me consume myself
frustrated into forever
endless panelled ceiling
vault of empty echoes
pillar of thick steam
super oblong flowers
the best polka of all time
i woof ferociously
everyone knows you can't know anything

cheeses on a flower
cheese somehow exists

big threatening machines
artichoke-shaped hats
world's greasiest salami
carrot manufacturing plant

ultimate trombone machine
story about a stupid lemon
spores on his breath
i can breathe spores
i am an everything specialist

skinned the planet earth
never ever remove your costume
rip off your real face

bong and bread
stuff a bong up your ass
our many-jointed legs
bilaterally symmetrical consciousness
a soft feathery field
quiet woof in the distance

my name is rhododendrons
one side leads to another side
want to read books about myself
i meant to say yas ot tnaem i
palindromic phallus
the andromeda facade
my own personal triceratops
in my own personal barracks
triceratops from the past
crystal facade or something
i'll buy the whole apartment complex
stay in a new room every night
and kill myself in the last

world's least educated teacher
reading a book about me reading
erase the act of erasing

attachment to my shortcomings
i pretty much feel like something
small dogs in my armpits

feel myself flaking away
am i truly a flake
flake into flakes

brought into being by life itself
scratching endlessly on the walls

mandelbrot handlers
body geometrically dissected
the sacred cleaving
crystal cuts death
dormant crystal energy
the crystallographer died
(abyss crystal death)
got a crystal infection
faceted to death

world's smartest artichoke
speaking in broken nothing
i poop pure diamonds
i majored in pooping

enlarge everything right now
i believe in bigness
i subscribe to the idea of weight
i support the idea of movement
subscribe to the idea of farm animals

the bolo tie machine
a crested structural
reach but threading
greasy but breading

historic hammer thing
look into a glassless mirror

trickled myself down
into a tiny gap between rocks
that joined and exploded
into radiating old
pixel computer aesthetic
angles behind glasses
placed carefully edge to edge
until stripped of all but
raw bloody skeletons

fields can be fluffy
this sweet rustic feeling
plugging into forever
unplugged into nothingness
i'm grateful for the ability to feel grateful
but absolutely not one other thing
there is nothing else good here but
i'm grateful so it don't matter

ripped apart nothings
an oblong nothing
rambunctious nothingness
nothing scattered across the floors
wielding a large nothing
opened pandora's box and found nothing
shackles made of nothing
the answer to the problem is nothing
continuously becoming nothing
i'm rotating nothing
don't be late for the nothing
replaces things with nothings
everything nothing ha lol
embittered nothings
frustrated into nothingness
i turn my head and nothing changes

elephant roped off
elk must be confined
animals deserve to be caged in
thoroughly restrict the movement

woofing around all day
kicking myself in the ear
you know just little fun games
i am just someone who likes fun
smoking a rubber bag
drinking smoke juice
tweaking my ears a little
melting bedazzle
orangutans whispering

rebellious leprosies
rambunctious infantry
brandish my brandy

a single lonely red leaf
many methods of breathing exist
choose one and call it your own

repeat after me: hammers
repeat after me: swords
repeat after me: crumple
repeat after me: handles
repeat after me: fisherman
repeat after me: pumps
repeat after me: bread bread

rooms lead to smaller rooms
move your body and you can move

( a one-result composition )


official government flowers
in an officially reserved room
only to be removed for official purposes
such as the experience of awe
a government issued validation
the big idea of suffering
viciously oblong
disembodied hand sprinkles
light flakes delicate
across neon lawns
magnetized air particles
bending planetary thread
take cigarette pills
light flakes across me
what makes me myself and unique is that i
have an understandable face
meaning accessible to the average person
life about a toothbrush
a world never touched by human hands
imagine everything as it is except
that no humans were involved in its creation

( a one-result composition )


I am currently writing this and watching it be written

I can't get out of the experience


built-in nothing generator

an advertisement for a pile of dust

an advertisement for the idea of lint


my favorite game is my daily routine
only the most mundane things interest me
only the most mundane for me


soft oxide breaths from haphazardly carved styrofoam
busts echo forever along infinitely angled walls
lined with outer space cartoon texture
fading from a dust-particle-sized postage stamp
licked and stuck to a grain of sand
and mailed to itself

styrofoam head on a granite cylinder
breath forming imperceptibly tiny angles riding out away area intertwined bricks piled past clouds extended to breakroom wedge pushed through transparent acrylic cylinder
fast quiet barrage of exhales followed by an infinitely expanding echo
triggering electric-shocked conceptions forming infinitely angled rooms
whose walls are a causal chain of shadows
casting each other in boundless flowery orgasms quickly rusting past
skin layers receded and flaked off
under broken microscopes roughened by centuries past lives between crevices
growing thicker in terms of thinness until zoom past perfect sparkly flakes
of displaced breakroom chairs with cold coffee collecting dust
and rotating under lights that burn off universal skins
each peeled by an inward styrofoam breath


star maps forgotten
behind rows of cardboard boxes
skin thinning every day
luster is gradually lost
breathing rhythmically and feeling
my feet on a cold stone

( a one-result composition )


forever unfolding flower
piles shifting subtly
old smoky parlor
coated thoroughly in dust
walls softly fade
to dust and dissipate into
artificial cartoon type
clouds scratched away
on a transparent lottery
ticket installed as a
window in a small wooden house
three thousand years old built from
manually separated particles
as was the way back in those days

some decay spirit
filming a white void
in the past and projecting it onto the
future void created
nested voids of
crackling flecks
altered by size and color
enlarging and shrinking again
gradually form soft
image of dead machine
its innards convulsing

( a one-result composition )


branded on a cedar plank
flowers smaller than the eye can see
stock dusk scenery
a few colorless trees
cash register close sound

alone in dark dusty rooms
with galactic fingers
feeling the years of dust
explode in a million hues
merging and dividing at once
distant orb of life
distant space sprites

brown cloth with yellow spots
folds itself in midair

three even layers of sand
dissolving into each other endlessly

to smooth roughens
each surface a little bit differently
if you get close enough it's all
infinitely tiny flowers
if you get close enough they all
flutter vibrantly and
crisply together in unison
flutter and brush up against
each other's delicate skeletons

worn fabric lifts
yielding rock surfaces
the textures of oceans
ornately chiseled by
eclipsed spirals

embody idea orgasm
stretching smooth flesh
in supple contortions
tightening loosening back and forth
whiplash undulation

infinitely tiny screw
driving infinitely fast
yields the slowest progression
before a complete stillness

potato it seams
pointless a potato is
pointless like a potato

( a one-result composition )


pair of pants sitting in a tree
cold crisp branches
pale light evenly distributed
light leans over the horizon
the earth is just leaning
away from itself eternally

cold crisp leaves fluttering
from the innermost cubicle
the cubic innards
decay our way out
time decays it all

( a one-result composition )


propelled by dual desires
to get coffee at cumby's
and feel styrofoam
with the nerves in our fingers
jackets brushing with a
muffled sound of wind through
glass cold flesh
caught a feather in the wind
frozen moment rectangular
street light cover, eyes
fixed lifting me
like death for a second
frozen wisps of thought
turn my sweat into steam

remember the wall-to-wall carpeting
hidden in the deepest crevices of my brain
traveling for a long time and not getting bored
listening to the sound of my blood flowing
garbled whispers in the dark
dark hands toying with
dusty wooden cubes
camera pans away from space
up out of cadaver

( a one-result composition )


hey man what can i get you man
he is old and points
at two hot dogs and
mumbles to me in spanish
while unknowingly secretly
his hot dog point
plants soft grease
marks on the glass display case

( a one-result composition )


damp hands heating
slick sterile surfaces,
the galaxies of molecules
experience fluctuating tension

alone curved beams
in a blank dead space
have to hang in a moment
rotate reaching over

world's thinnest membranes
not quite the right thinness
to be sifted through centuries
hovering tiny over
a great silent abyss

the internal consilience
old fibers interwoven
abstract plaster built
and dreamed into myself
grease stain years ago
a plaster guilt

several sterile galaxies
sat cold on the windowsill
in one hanging moment
silence and a bee

( a one-result composition )


the largest crystal pile,
examined with new instruments,
was revealed to be the smallest

the newspaper told me this and
i wept continuously for a year

my friends were peeling away

i curled myself around a corner
quietly dwindled to nothing

morning fresh bright light
gathering shreds of fabric
skin warm with a glow
feeling novel texture

ground up our clothing
fibers opened up into
flickering static environments
filled with plastic sculptures
sculpting selves from
black heat dancing

we drooled at the spectacle
washed our faces with blood
and shopped till we died

we are grateful that you are here for
tonight's bible adventure
we forgot how to pronounce words
so we will sacrifice you
directly upward toward heaven
give us this day our daily crystals
and explode us from the inside
so the patterns that support
can deconstruct the need for
our conscious energy focus
never and forever amen

( a one-result composition )


another wooden-walled room
in some obscure basement somewhere
was filled to the ceiling with cakes
big glowing cakes

light fell into nothingness
her metallic thrust
dimming fibrous
scattered completely lost in
damp dust smells

an ageless man stepped in
running a frail hand through his thin hair
speaking a faux language
moved his limbs in patterns
particles stuck to his shirt
glowed in shafts of light
from windows at certain times of day

silent electric crackle
isolated in a unique universe
sound of grey electric
contact generated connection

the ripping apart sound
of eternal lack of knowledge

this eternal lack of knowledge

( a one-result composition )


spreading for an end
beyond the act of spreading
what can't be spread

greyed out moisture
in amorphous kingdoms
bleeds down form
contoured at first and
with the passing of countless centuries
deeply woven into itself

serrated gradation
in stages of withering
until tucked out of sight
coddled brightly
in rows of quiet
radiating wombs

lonely bitter monkey
crowned king of self-loathing
gnaws off a big hunk
of his own right thumb

( a one-result composition )


automatic particle separator
willfully disestablished
a stringent plasticity
rearranged at all points
according to a delicate structure

time has composed itself
of all possible combinations of coincidences
consistent pulse beneath
a communal epidermis

hand over heart walking
to and from void space
no object contains meaning
aside from your personal perceptions
nevermind you probably can't hear me anyway
but let's talk about ears
just kidding I'm right here with you

ride in gas chambers
into a configuration of tubes
metallic shuffling feet
on intersecting stairwells
ascend universal dream

row of houses blurring
under the darkest possible sky
as birds die in mid-air
and disintegrate with fingers

you might get the feeling that I am talking
but my gestures convey
all of the things I could potentially say
so clearly that I want to die

( a one-result composition )

come to grips with your grip
give way to infinite nothingness
dissecting indefinitely
without questioning the act of questioning
understood by lines drawn
through inconsequential points
tied by untying
and the smoke wafts through my house

blame all those animals
for blaming each other for blaming
but please don't think about anything
unless you want to die at this moment

I am the limitless power
of your desire to allow me
to inflate into you
to extend past your skin
connecting gently in a
precisely opposing spectrum
each subsequent phase determined
as a desire for extension

unwatched moss
decays and reestablishes
its status as a moss

floral cloth left
in electrical heaps
emanating vibrant rays
only you can remember the smell

( a one-result composition )


early experiments in one-result composition

arranged from previously obtained one-result terms:

difference between wrinkles and crinkles
on the brink of wrinkling

treading a blurry line between
nothing can always be achieved
I just want to play all the damn time
can we please just interact
only the pure interaction

monkeys form complex relationships
primate selves connect
it’s just the natural way of everything
I have nothing to say except that I am alive

my milk can help you
I need help with the milking
helping my friends milk
please help with milking
can I please just milk

monkey myself to death
it couldn’t possibly be any more perfect
a gleaming unfolding
losing and regaining my control

I seriously cannot milk
I must be completely worthless to you
I used to be a good milker
but my skills have gone down the tubes

antifreeze off my body
room with some antifreeze
with barrels of antifreeze
Tate and I adventured
discovered lots of antifreeze
I have to wash it off my skin
maybe I’ll just let it sink in

you are a sensible logical man
I don’t know whether or not to be touched
are you concerned about yourself or me?
it’s evenly dealt

high on notifications
never get enough notifications
sad without notifications
I want to die a bunch of times
keep liking my posts please
being liked is the best thing

have I validated you enough?
evaluate my validating
is this validation working
please tell me that I’m doing a good job
now I am irrevocably depressed
thank you so much for making me sad

I can’t prove you wrong, and you can’t prove me wrong either
your equivocal perspective
my equivocal perspective
please don’t assign my feelings
fucking accept my fucking apology
ugh emotions are so complicated

proud 2 be tuna
can’t squash my pride
well I hate essentially everything

torturing myself infinitely
forever returning to zero
greasing up my innards
cosmically smoking
I am cosmically inclined
render me really well
place in hell for a pig

3444 lawn mowers
(word that sounds like a street name
words that sound like an address)
my lawn mower’s busted
my lawn’s busted
my whole face is busted
all I think about is mowing the lawn
lawns must always be mowed

one anatomical impact
a pubic hair fever
this is an idea that prevails

there I go that’s exactly what I wanted
expressing every single one of my feelings
advanced expressive tools
producing absolutely dead

shit panda cakes
some pancake shits
part of an ethical breakfast
I know that sleep is right

seriously uncomfortable radiation
I have never radiated so much
the radiation superseded
I am debilitatingly confused

can I be the dominant one for once
please let me dominate you now
oh now I’m all dead
because of this whole framework

academia says hey
never felt so academic before
I can’t believe that I finally made it to this point
I completed the academic challenge
is this a good time to die

it’s a gradually developing condition
the right way is to be living
on the brink of aloneness
best to be as close to original as possible
well that’s all there is to life

are you the lightbulb guy

I personally feel like I’m dead

ever seen a pig bark
a wild barking pig
he can’t be stopped from barking
bark my fuckin head off
reach inside and kill me
someday I’m gonna be inside
I wanna be inside myself

I am glowing heavily
a heavy dull glow

your face on a golden platter
raw clams with a side of
infinitely large foods

air inside a small cavity
the air inside of a pig
maybe they’re all pigs

I wish I were better at crying
you have mad crying skills
milk my eyes out

awnings are a way of life
I’m an awning person
the awning lifestyle
it is seriously a profession

humans leave their faces
some dark corner of someplace
I found myself in a dingy corner
a vast dingy space
resting in a coiled heap
decaying wreathe

proliferation decontextualization
proliferative disjunctive

infinity the dead space
woofing at god

what if I never did anything ever again


earth slabs routinely overturned


unravel my armsockets, routine gingerbag drowning sprockets warm grommets drying out suns
gross tomato hands blurring with sticky pulps
rotund alfred wringing his fat hands
squeezing milk from his big dead eyes, reaching out with his hands infinitely feeling around outward inward to the deepest depths unimaginable
freezing fire eros sore me red rhino or a tango mango


collodion outbreath proposal
one leaf decaying at the speed of its descent
myocardium wavering
his last moment within

mole button

aproning iron blacksmith ochre response, yellow tongue creature response, relaying a yellow orb response


greased desirous sour rising etched ice detached dehydrating traditional notion noisy loins soiling snail lanes senile lines and greasy stencils slick kill licking nickel lichen nascent tent scanning nine entities sitting nightly soggy ghostly host


crescent scents, ten cents
blossoming gnomes among mosses
relegated deterrent retention
forage rage eggs arranged
grinding dirge grips pure erupting night thighs
sight of guised suite sets


soft wet membrane
supple skin flowering
pulse gently wavers
between expansive ethereal white light dream beams


arduous sewage wages
segmented dental nemesis wedges
swerving wagging soupy rare area
grolulating gnishes sessions vital snowy organs


Here, the milk milks itself. The ground grinds itself, and the earth encrusts itself.

Rolled up into itself, the orange range gnashing billiard rags, greshing lengths of thin nights stinging ginger rings, syringing degradation, regular angular radiating arugula rugs. Lurid diurnal drooling, ordinary rain doors, sordid droids and DNA roads. Gory grazing under elegant relegated detoxing axolotl. Talking kings and snickering kernels lurking, I reckon. Grandiose diodes rang soiled doilies, sliding dill lids by sinful sloughing ghouls.

Hordes of gourds, ranked by gourdliness.

grenadso ebofahus frandolatunophenauthinalineated brendocrambolantro gorgandrona porbulafettode rhasch ghrendelle.


hurled from infinitely behind myself
I tumble into a deserted universe
where abandoned foggy hills
yield to delicate branching forms

insidiously dividing spreading
birthing nested worlds
(of drooling writhing children
raised in hidden dingy homes)

wind quickens ancient sifting cycle
moisture leaves brittle abbreviated tips

unnecessary subjects
subjectively rejected
my nucleus distilled
and routinely reassembled

from the nucleus extends
an unnecessary world:

my spindly rain-soaked wooden chair rots quickly in the sun
its tender porous rungs teem with healthy organisms

precisely churned to mush
nails eaten by wet dirt

a tight electrical hum propels
its orderly fugal dispersion
toward a final together moment
and I catch myself

fresh stress infects a rusty spring
elastic form yields a plastic sound

atmospheric hue bobs a low resonant tone
temperature oscillating wildly
a flurry of electric tingles
flowering through my skin

hands move detached
and I unveil my innards
in old thin wooden buildings
lit by dim yellow cubic lamps
collecting ghosts of desperate moths

in swaying segmented corridors
where every room is sort of yours
nameless friends shout unintelligibly
blurring away quiet with dissolving walls

precisely forgotten rusty moment
seen your hand rots quickly in the sun

fresh morning smell of warm pressed grass

I landed in some hayfield
by a crisply faded house

on the cracked paint balcony
stood a well-dressed family
with spherical paper heads
slopped with vague shapes of features

I wanted to reach out
and feel their stages of decay


jcjcvjcjc jcjc jcjc jcjcjcjcjcjjcjc jcjc jcjc jcjc jcjc jcjc jcjc jcjc icicicic jcjcjjjcjc jcjc hchc ycyc ucuc ycyc hchc ucucuc jcjccncjjc jcnc jcn jnncj njncj ncjnjcjcn jcnj ncjn jcnj ncj njjjcn jncn jncjjj jcjn ncnj j jncj njcn jncjn jjcnj jcn jncj jnjcn jncjn jcn jncj njcn jncj njcn jncj nc

fnf nkfnf knfjk nfjn fjfjfij ifji jfij ifj ijfji jfi jifk okfj ifji jfo kofk ifji jifj ifji kfo kofk okfi jfij kfo kofk ifji jifij ijfij jifij jifij jifij opklfkl kofok kofok okfok kofok kofok kof okf kof kof okf okfo kfok okfok o okfofok o okfofok o ojkfoj oj ojfoj ojfoj ojfoj ojfoj ojfoj ojgoj ojgoj ojgoj ojgoj ojgoj ojgoj lngln lng lne ube ube ube ube ube ube ube ubebu beb bueb bebu beb bueubue bue bue bue bbe bue bue bue bue bue bue buecniecniecniec


lemon friends?

eye drop soup


willpower myselves triangulathon, areno ranero, yo ~

arsenal’d scottish ires reirepairpiarliealai

arsenal umpqua rarbos totem margochi crambone narphundelphunous crambone particles crambone’d into your skull! Right on, clairvoyant Claire!

cramerocrop kamerocop *put on your sunglasses* slick n smooth repair randeldleledldeled
dranjsdk dranelion


massage a knoll
read a bear tread
on a hand, nah, a knob
grill beans on a spit patch first fire
high chimes with ham
gramolite breathing dragons with his hand onside brotund handrome sarcubious ardlambotto, bread alone, a place we went in the past, grow your own reality


grown together moment
infesting patterned imperfection
unpredictably frothing intersections
grown together moment


some cut-ups:

I am ladderlike, wooden, stretching into the distant extent of mostly dry grave
and there is the sound of the mountain torrent behaving
there is that monotony that, whether large or small: it shuts one up as in a dream
wet locks of a silent moment
cigarette was his jar of fresh water
there were no hands to prepare broideries
washed away the dust and the “Leave him there.”
poor beast fell beneath scene of a fierce struggle
she had never known surgical skill, learned as her silent moment,
drawing through things with marvelous rapidity
left alone with the landscape
her hand the wet locks of observation and intuition;
gold gleaming in it by her knowledge


microscopic stones settle
into downward channels
forming tiny nested pockets

hard to trace
sprouting point
vanishing point


gravity released us
elation incinerelated breakdown
to earth particulate
between betweens
between betweenness

dense walls of hands
sliming smiling reality earlier
mailing a greasy box to a close friend

open box reveals grease-stained innards
(cloth pantry all beige with certain specific types of thick rope)


• • •

crate 12, under crate 11
such specific hands that the onion made him sad, so he cried.
his tears were saved and studied carefully by scientists for centuries helping us discover that our veins marble our innards bleeding into ourselves all the time!

a meager moment,
frail wavering edges of an indistinct form . . .

fresh wind lifts dust over a worn threshold
damp tingly particle smells
exploding through eagerly calculating stability.

fade crisply through
delicate shaky meadow, drifts
rusty-looking memory

few days ago whisper
turned with quiet blossoms
gusts blew in his arms
a new bright whisper ` *

pillar schema rounded out over in back of a coffee smell lingering. A cream-colored schema. Brown glass items arranged carefully, washed out faded thinning until shreds disperse to dust.

East Texas gutter sparkled bright in the sun
That house was painted white now.
hotel bar carpet
watered by selves
around whose wrists will radio waves flutter?

streets spring
background 7-Eleven blooms a brightness
felt through slight roseate
walls unearthly room

obuled mrandelphunous rond vargonia


upspring your apron-like handlebars in glass hotels in cloistered suburbs,
an old man with his dead soft hands in an old brown jacket silent in his deadness,
but chalk only smiles and spills all directions until my only undercoat night street,
with rustling leaves in an empty breezy alley,
with the quiet gentleman’s decaying old person face out in the open,
a soft stuffy interior, carpet always freshly vacuumed.

he would talk about it . . .
his rough carpet hands on beige plastic buttons,
dressing down lost cakes of detritus,
only fastened to his face an old clock…
feeling one's own clockface is his hand.
My old leg was just inside itself. Within what river was each cradle selved? Around whose wrists will radio waves flutter? Is the only key the least appealing? Wh42!

A fresh unearthed toxin blowing down into a cornstalk haze under a blurry firmament. Bread made by cloud hands baked by cloud breath

Not inside itself my arm peels over outside into a fresh sea of half old images. Feeling like wet bread I slurp a thick, bready breath and feel myself grow older and flop forward into a bucket of slop.



bhurandothone trapestery breautophone neurandlebrot bernardrean brantolanchus chrautundronite brinsuphialis tape, bring crustaceans home to their nightstands click on lamps and sit in easy chairs. Create subtraction state in unto andelbrote brandeltron cranstronaut ornament head. bornauphinous pharphalicus cronundrome? unruffle your underhanded feather-soft tap on the cap of the old long-bearded belly-breathin' Beast of a man, old with a long beard extending across scuffed wood floor disrupting a thin layer of dust trailing thinner and thinner ~ warm sparks between your night fingers thinking and humming to yourself in a self-contained void voice--sort of a dark damp air vibe clamped down under.



handlebrot plans to can a smattering of cranberry hands

a stale ghost roughly sprouts crumbly cranberry hands



Seamphony endless layers of tendrils dividing pushing and pulling a tightly wound but constantly unwinding cycle of transitory bodies rubbing closely boundaries interweaving



2207hq05quandary, made into unnervingly ambidextrous dextrose particles.
Crazed 40987 under tundra gone very mellow.
Made 84 into 85 bag gone--.
Elbow jackhammer handle. Wheeled plotatos.
(lump it into a big lump)