flying carpets will probably make you fat like cars do, but at least you won't pollute the air

to jack -- a fever-induced shot in the dark.


a half moon slung in the black night canopy of stars and cigarette smoke
drifting heavenbound with the sounds of sunday and thoughts of monday.

hello, moon.
hello, margot.
what have you been up to today?

the blue light of another haight morning casts a spell on us both.
witches brew.
time lingers and slows to a halt as we scour
the sheets, streets, and stalls

produce. juicy fruits. black berries and nuts.
j j the pusherman digusts the impatient pedestrian people
in front of the great let's go to the bibliotech and boogie
with vonnegut and palahniuk.

armed with beats swaying in street
a platinum prelude to the olympic noodle opus
we go together like legs and feet

explosive expressions and laughter wider than wide
defenseless to the tactile tactics we both climb inside
the vast universe on our corner of the weekend.

not much, you know, same old, same old. you?


By Margot

suspended in the sky with rainbow suspenders

~~you ate my crappy omelete but smiled anyway~~ to Margot

like magpies magnetized on the corner of laguna and hayes
luck-charmed and kissing croissant flaked lips...and...
speaking soft word on the syncopated step...with....
that arm-ta-lumbar interlock,
like midnight rat in talons de hawk
but
for the free ride not homicide

with your coiffure in a mess and those tendrils i obsess
and obsess and obsess like
Dionysus dry mouthed strolling through the vineyard...like...
a hound snooping around your flower bed,
unearthing a cachet of sublime redolence
with each tinge an overdose and...
breath after breath is death after death and...
i am not worthy of these immortal formalities

My lips two fish bound side by side
portraying parabolic impressions
out the emerald lagoon,
to languish and swoon
from scapula to clavicle to ear and behind...with....
smooth water style upon both third eyes,
salmon pair schooling selves with skill
will glide and glide then
retire upon thrills of rose flushed cheeks,
and gallantly perish, a journey so meek.



From Jack

on behalf of the alpha and omega

~~So i just took off on my bicycle~~ to Margot

i would bike over booby traps
hidden from baghdad to bogota,
even the ocean too,
hang from a worn out
crow infested telephone wire
like a koala with no business
being in the city
just to see you read kerouac
upon your windowsill

and if my bike got eated by a monster,
i would beat him up to get it back
because that's messed up
but if my bike was destroyed
i would try to become
an engineer over night
so i could build a unicycle and
get to you

and during my morning alpha-bits breakfast
between my one-wheeled spurts
if i couldn't find a "p" to spell your name
i would pedal to Post Cereal's factory
and sabotage the production line
and tell all the workers that for some
beautiful reason
the changed alpha-bits to
Patricia-is-healthy-for-you-bits

if i found a wishbone in the barn on the way
i would probably fight
dirty and ungracefully to win
so then i could wish for ten more
to give to you
and you could wish that no one ate chiciken
ever again
and you'd still have nine more wishes left
plus a die-hard army of chickens
at your disposal

when i sleep during the trip i would have
lucid dreams
and
i would somehow
connect all the instruments i own
and be a busker like
Dick van Dyke in Marry Poppins
perform all the songs i came up with
while thinking about you during
my bubble baths
...all while flying rainbow colored kites
and probably getting some of them tangled
in each other
but it's okay because i have
a whimsical imagination
so i'll pretend they're just copying
my feelings for you

with all the quarters i made from
this 8 year adventure
i would enroll in audiology school
and pay attention
then i would hide a microphone
in your shower
and record you singing whatever
i would deconstruct the frequencies
tone and timbre
and eventually win the nobel prize
for the "Patricia Formula"
because after mailing mixtapes
laced with this template
to every celebrity
the current president will have passed
a mandate on free health care
for all
end homelessness
and President Bill Murray will be
the first democrat/actor
to admit the truth, that
the Patricia formula can save the world

i would awake from this immaculate dream
find out it all didn't happen
and instead of punching all the animals
in a fit of rage
i would still be happier than ever
because
it's the start of another day and
i would be
on my way
to see you
reading kerouac upon your windowsill


From Jack