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: beautifully phrased, you should be a writer.

A: sorry i’m already written.


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

thick orange folding
automatic exercise pill
a capsule containing smaller capsules
will force your body to exercise

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


( learn about the one result technique )

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
you can kind of feel breath
but it doesn't "reach" you
like there is some sort of
BLOCKAGE of a pathway
and that's super okay

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
as a last resort on our vacation
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


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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)



Handheld hostage, bend my elbow such that I get a vivid specific sense of how my elbows are different from one another------it's like I'm made of old stagnant billowing ELBOWS, or maybe my grandpa's made of sugar! Huh! How about that idea, eh?

Rigidhead10324, 38, 37, 36, crossing below 27 47s he aimed his 387 at a 409, beckoning a 38-style axle into his thoughts, encouraged by his ancient dying grandmother, he crowed awkwardly angrily at her but wiggled his tail clean off.
Marginalized 42, baffled under Magnetic 41, boxed and sealed in a giant concrete area surrounded by the backs of tall ambiguous grey buildings and huge white trucks unloading boxes sealed with industrial tape and 39'd right outta there!
Now it's all about Rick, who is a professional boxer and has been (bin) 4 47,000 years ! ! !

Mills are where we go when milling needs to happen. Fair 'n' square.

Back to Rick. He has hair and an overwhelming face complete with huge mustache and dead eyes surrounded by fake flowers and rotated to allow 4 more handles to be attached----Rick hired a crew to maintain his face; a crew of one thousand human beings, three hand-pigs (pigs w/ hands), and the world's biggest (& probably stupidest) onion. The onion only performed psychological services, mostly for the crew to boost morale, occasionally to influence an intricately specific facial maneuver, of which Rick possessed approximately infinity. His other important trait was that he could be milked like a mother, a trait on which he capitalized heavily as a second source of income. "Mother Rick" sold his milk constantly, and he seemed to be able to generate infinite amounts of it while making trillions of the most minutely detailed facial expressions anyone had ever been exposed to, in such quick succession that the significance of each one was only made clear to spectators long enough to be registered unconsciously. Of course, after viewing them in succession for long enough they begin to form a larger image (infinitely larger, in fact) that forces itself into the conscious mind, often causing explosive--sometimes fatal--"Aha!" moments in people choosing to spend more than 20 minutes viewing Rick while he "performs". His audiences have been known to get super heavily giant like 2 billion humans, 8 pigs, 99 donkeys, 8 hand-fetuses (99,999 regular fetuses), and a larger copy of Rick that moves with him in total synchrony. This is his "brother," Rick2. Usually Rick performs for days @ a time and the pigs react to his shows by speed-breeding into about 50,000 fully grown pigs.  Great scene for pigs, not so for humans… Usually about three people are left alive at the end of a Rick show, the rest killed by explosive reactions to Rick. Sometimes they TV-broadcast it and it almost destroys the whole world of humans! At least the dumb ones who haven't observed the death pattern. See, you just have to limit your viewing to 20 minute portions!




(A and B, two average men, sit in comfy chairs. A has no legs.)

A: I am sad because my legs got cut off yesterday.

B: You don't need to be. I'm just happy. (Smiles.)

A: Easy for you to say--you're dead. Here I am, alive, with no legs.

B: (Smiling.) I'm just glad.

A: About my legs? (Growls threateningly.)

B: About being here, now. Just stop talking. Stop growling. Just stop doing everything you're currently doing. Pick new actions.

A: (Suddenly obedient.) But how will I choose the right actions? There are so many of them?

B: Nope, wrong. Stop asking me questions.

A: But this will ruin our chances of becoming friends.

B: I don't know how to be a friend.

A: Have you ever tried?

B: I'm dead. (Dies, slumping over in chair, but A does not notice.)

A: Too dead to try?

(Door opens and C enters, dressed exactly like B but female.)

C: (To A.) Do you know what dying even is? (Checks B's pulse.) Yes, this is for sure a dead human being right here… (Turns to A and makes eye contact.) Right now. Just stay here and maybe start journaling or something. It will help you process this death that has just occurred right in front of you.

A: (Looks blankly at C.) I don't need to. I'm just glad. (Smiles.)

C: Ew! You sick fuck. I am going to remove this body from this place.

A: Where are you gonna take it?

C: Don't ask questions. I'm sure you will be happier without this decaying corpse here right in front of you. And don't you want to talk to somebody who isn't me? I do not feel qualified to be having a conversation with a human who has just witnessed a death.

A: (Calmly.) You seem perfectly qualified to me. I like having conversations. Why don't you just sit down? (Gestures to the chair where B's body rests.)

C: (Visibly disgusted.) Ew, gross, stop talking to me. (Picks up B's dead body and carries it offstage. C's voice yelling from offstage.) Actually, can you help me carry this?

A: (Excited.) Sure! (Suddenly looks glum.) Oh, actually, I got my legs cut off yesterday, so I can't.

C: (Yelling from offstage.) What?

A: (Louder.) I got my legs cut off yesterday.

(No response from C.)

A: Ugh, I feel so incapable. So… dead. How can I choose actions if I know I cannot act? Well, I guess my actions are just more subtle now. Maybe I should buy a gun. Then I could have a powerful impact on my environment.

(Lights and music off. Lights up on A in a wheelchair at a store counter. The clerk, dressed in drab clerk attire, sets a gun down on the counter, rings up A at the register, A hands the clerk bars of gold. The clerk picks up the gun, which turns out to already be loaded, and shoots A in the face. C immediately walks in the door of the store, this time dressed as A.)

C: (Pointing at A, shocked, but not getting too angry in fear of the CLERK, who is still holding the gun.) That human was supporting this whole narrative!

CLERK: It's not my responsibility to me to keep this going.

C: Well whose is it then? We all must hold ourselves equally responsible for everything that happens.

(Lights out. Lights up on the clerk, now dressed in a much more fancy, ornate outfit.)



this place is your only choice for an experience!



I crocked the crooked hand inside of my lung but it was so far away that I couldn't see where I was going, under the rug and under the fridge I crawl and crawl until I reach a big bag zone full of rats and stargazers unfolding their wings outwardly nothing else like it they glimmer and stargaze until the stars have all died . . . nobody but you in here, just you, zeroed in on your face your stature and demeanor, reflecting the signals of others back into your environment all into a big package a mandatory game

zh-zhing, boss, bury my head under the sand so that the grains become lodged intimately in my delicate folds of head flesh. stack it on top of itself but maintain a pattern, a consistent regulatory pulse, holding it all together tying them into each other infinitely--say, do you have a light? I knew a guy who said he could stand up for twelve hours straight without doing a single thing else. He was dumb, probably. Couldn't imagine any other reason why somebody would behave that way.

zh-zhing, boss, I can't breathe can you get me into a different factory? well I guess I can stick it out another month or two, but I'm afraid all of our lungs will collapse into one big lung! This is a fear I've had since birth! I narrowly missed the train to outer space and then my leg got cut off by a demon and I gained a thousand pounds and died. My head was cut off and stored secretly for fifty years and then it was destroyed. I rose up out of my remnants in the middle of the woods and began to type on an old keyboard. These words, these are my words to you. Read them carefully; study every word with me--imagine that I am writing them at this very moment, as you read them, a tangible fragment of an endless abstraction.

[ [  Mrellow Ned, rrrraowwww ¡ hello oat bran head !  ] ]

pelly-can head

the old verse cracks and peels its shreds give way to a new verse



While they have little raw aesthetic value to me, I have strong positive feelings towards these two gray plastic boxes, and the ways in which the objects inside are arranged: particularly resulting from non-particularity, touched only when needed for a specific non-aesthetic purpose, such as packing into a gray plastic box for easy transport. I often try to convey feelings using as few words as possible, and this often produces many words. The objects in the boxes end up in patterns that clearly and precisely signify the emotions that gave rise to them. The objects and their arrangements are unique expressions of fundamental ideas.


stale smoke ingrained in cramped wooden walls low stained ceilings orange shag carpet. blinds drawn collecting smoke. thin old apparitions drift in deep seething static haze of electric calm ~ shabby clothes on old folks in waiting room chairs, mcdonald's fluorescent plastic charm I find myself in one dingy flickering corner planting seeds under broken floor panels

early new place feeling intricate rust patterns on vibrating metal walls, maybe some factory behind there but nobody felt motivated to investigate. rudy narrowed his tie down and sat up in bed with his head clean

walking in an unused stadium plants budding through metal the camera zooms up and you're alone in the stadium pocket cut off from all else

thin disintegrating apparitions float past a humming air conditioner and colors run splotched beige and brown and algae green, caught in dusty dormant spaces


march cram

to bore an aerobot

taste lemonade menu that lame cadet air benign ill, if, ma, I am filling inebriated ace malt. ah, tune me, dan. omelet sat.

DNA help, pa, tint it red! nah, ask cat dubs, eh, the tub's dapper, not I, to jail, had a dahlia, jot it on rep pads, but, eh, the bud tacks a hand, er, tit nit apple hand

no melt lemon

tin wad, tan waffles, red nu-traipse notes, e-tones, pi art under self, fawn at dawn, it.

tip amygdala stupid, i put salad gym, a pit.

hey, no, benoit, ali give ross a crack cabaret to parse, mandelbrot orb led names, rap otter, aback, carcass or evigilation, ebony, eh?

pastor rape parrot sap

diva david



hanging strata of blue smoke
clustering flowers
rays of penetrating light
impossible branch hands
dingy red orchard chairs
old, dead faces slipped
little stale glances
They smoked and talked,
that feeling of smoking and talking.

    over the old farm twinkling
                clasp of hands
        paint was scratched

        wind blowing
    bright cheeks
glowing japonica flower.
          strange, longing murmur

fair, slight, broken rose face,

convulsive jaw   lonely without teeth

3/8/12 - bits from eugene, or

tag me with a pin rag, hand me a tan pan

a bunch of bad shit for handslinger adam jeffrey blasting my face puff my

tattered little plastic head some hairs sticking out eyelashes wilted. lipstick grimace in a candy shell

my leg can't straighten out, i should really pay the leg specialist a billion bucks for a quick lube

this is the best thing i can possibly write at this moment

i really know how to write

over the old farm twinkling clasp of hands


approx. 3/1/12

distant siren wind
blows tattered sheets
spare hand sheaths
low machine hum
a bag in a corner on a banged up chair



I’m a bag. I am a bag i’m a bag I am a abga bag  ab aga baga bag gab grab arg rab ar grab arga barg ra barrage, benign beret. yeast palm, goat strap.\\

kereat kerosine keereat keerosein.x


meaty stare betwixt a fry breathing gently into a silk bag, carried into concave canals, fry judged gently, the grace of grease, the cylindrome, mac-donald's within grown together gradually but tightly aware of your own mouth to a point of crazed stamatic vigortronics.



i turned myself into a big bag



glance stance
platinum marble
chrome chreator


a scholarly paper:

i'm fat because i think i'm fat.





™¡å These sterile creatures cracked around the edges, curling and crackling as they curled, something coming up the side of the wall in a universe of completely white structures that are somehow discernible from each other, against a backdrop of stars. Wet painted wood in the beating sun, dad cooks brisket and we all eat it. Make more for the kids so that they can eat it and turn out like us. Each generation desires more and less.



pole poke sheepdog
madison, head of the heads
mild form of bed
cream walls and a dark shade
the brightest chandeliers you will ever find
little kind limbs
glister cut crafting along the skyline

folding hammers and crushed geometric flatlands

hold me until i have been held to the maximum.



mealtime spirals flickering



I made a notebook out of products that could have been used to make other things that could accomplish other tasks, but I decided that this mattered the most.

Medium sized Robert.

What do you want to eat, you sick ass shit sock? Okay, yeah, that'll cost you sixteen thousand gallons of blood. Sweet deal, neat clean business transaction, glad you chose to do business with me and not some other shit ass sock of ass.

It would be hard to guess exactly, but I heard you could hear things despite not being able to guess them exactly. Sweet. Yeah, okay, call me back tomorrow.

I had to say those things to you because you said things to me and I reacted without thinking about it. This is called something, and that thing is known to some people and not others. These are the bare hard facts. Bears are hard to track. You have to have all this advanced specialized equipment designed for bear-tracking and NOTHING ELSE. In college I learned the difference between a bear and a bear tracker; you need to know that in college. It's a thing. it takes a while to figure out but when you do iz just some shitty shit, hhhm hum hum, hmmm hum hum, do you hear me?

I specialize in specialization.

porcine lemon

marry me to this branch

this place is so sick
i can't smell or taste
maarry me

complete crumpet

the moment of crumpet completion

medium roasted socks

cradle me and i'll cradle you, go

i can hardly do anything; my feet are strapped together and my tonsils are compressed. i undid myself and slid limply into a small can.



Fun Fact: When somebody sneezes, they are actually sneezing!

Hey Paula,
It's far past your bedtime.
Go to bed, you bag of shit.
You're a woman.

I have to bake cakes or I will die of cake-baking withdrawal.

Always use some objects when doing a thing that requires them.

Bill has three engorged stomachs. The rest of Bill is just shit.

People have been telling me that I'm fat, and I've always just looked them and shit.

Bleating. Pleating.

I cremated a big man with my own hands yesterday.

I hear they've invented hair.

A pleasant blend of halibut tears and dry whiskey.

I am living a completely different life than you are, and I am doing it all the time. Different body, different reactions to my environment. It's all trapped in my head and there's no way I can share any of it with you. The parts of me that you can experience are the exact parts that I cannot experience, because they are being experienced by you and only you.