craig, fuck your list

stifled by economics and ear waxed rats,
a dose of perscripted song so syndicate but on sale,
i ogle the windowsill at wishes floating

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

Champagne for my good friends...good pain for my sham friends

After a brief cameo in Long Beach, I've supposed a few denouements about the ecosystem i had once experimented and evolved in. However I must precede these ideas by the fact that judging a city solely by aesthetics, weather conditions, businesses to pig out at and places to inebriate ourselves in MUST be largely superseded by the criticism of common folk who occupy the landscape, as it is humans who curb or cartel the sweeping energy of city to city. This being propped, I will say that the grub is mediocre, the weather laudable, and social scene quite lackluster. This entry is starting to feel only two strides away from a yelp blurb.

2 Things:

NOT ALL...but LOTS of kats are just dying here...whether or not they were transplanted or native, i FEEL that these humans are deteriorating. This is one of a few reasons i migrated north. Long Beach carts the drugged out "when in Rome" mantra so heavily that it feels icky. Heaps and stacks of kids are just fucked-up all the time, functioning or disfunctioning day to day, WAITING for Aladdin's carpet to swoop them up bearing 45 degrees bound luck-ville. I DO believe we should and will get that big break one day or the at least our biggest break we will ever get but sedating ourselves with false senses of security in the meantime while calling it a party yet it's every day, cheap (yet expensive) thrills substituting for NECESSARY exposure to pain, and putting around our PERSONAL yet insecurity-driven verses from the book of ideology to quell the fear of self-actualization will probably get old soon. And fuck yes it's hard and some have it more rough than I will ever know, but we gotta TRY and we gotta hustle our at our best and work on it...setting examples for our friends so that THEY get inspired from our struggle.

NOT All...but almost everybody knows each other. I FEEL that i can concoct proper nomenclatures for all the tribes and cliques from Atlantic to West 4th St. This may sound like a good thing but I feel that situations like these breed warriors of anonymity, which certainly argues for our Individualistic tendency. It is assumed this statement is in accord with knocking subcultures in LBC but the intention is to emphasize the notion that there, everybody is separated by only 2 degrees, meaning that if Picaboo Flemming finds out he farts fire, then tells Margaret Nemoy, Luscious Weinner, former best friend of Picaboo but current nemesis will have found out and thus impregnating all associates with this news. So basically, you can't even pass gas without everyone finding out. It is for this reason, being an anonymous hippapotamous has value.

Beyond these OPINIONS, i still have a spot for long beach in my corazon and it still sports a charm like no other city i've been to....this love is bolstered by the diversity and acceptance of diversity, as LBC is a universal city.

In another report.......

I was blessed by a shaman for the first time in my life. This in turn, possibly placebo and possibly coinciding other energy influences, has made me whole, and pure, and free-flowing. The shaman was actually a mother of a new friend and a shaman of the Hmongtype. She in no way appeared cliche or trite at all. I came into this situation by chance. I had no bleeding agenda or desire other than a basic spiritual cleansing. i did receive a proper dose of goodness though. The ceremony went as follows...

I was given options. I declined a card induced reading into the future because I didn't want to abuse that knowledge or curtail "my future." I accepted a "good luck" ritual and a hand-reading of my past. In the good luck ritual, "S" (the shaman) used an egg, two white candles, a bowl, and a bottle of water. She first prompted me to sit up and naturally I refrain from much movement or verbal communication. Then she lit the candle and grafted it to the plate, then proceeded to chant and wave the plate in front of my face. She then took the raw egg and rubbed it from place to place on my body while chanting. This actually took quite some time and I began to relax, remove my skepticism, and I almost fell asleep. While this was occurring, I was given previous instructions to focus on what I want removed from me such as things in my life that I found unpleasant or un-beneficial. Afterward S put the egg under the candle flame for a couple of seconds and cracked it into the bowl. She then examined the yolk and chanted summore. S then extinguished one of the candle flames into the bowl. I can't remember all of it but I know that there was more chanting afterward.

After this section was complete, S then read my palm and indicate two things about me which can be construed as general but I feel are true. She indicated that I had one serious and painful heart-break and one minor. Then she said I was fortunate and wonderfully blessed/born with good luck. S then stated that I am in great health. Lastly, she stated that this year and the following year do not hold much luck for me but that the following year holds large, large, large amounts of luck and success and many great things will happen to me at that time.

The last act was a blessing. S recited a blessing and blessed me. She also blessed a bottle of water and I was given a sort of prescription. i was told that after every shower in the morning, to pour some of the water on my head and drink some. She said by doing so I will attain things that I want in life and be welcomed with good luck. S also told me that on the 31st of this month (tomorrow), followed by the 1st and 2nd of next month, right when i wake, i should give thanks to what I have and wish/ask for things i do want, which will then come true.

When my stay was complete, I felt (possibly placebo induced) wonderful and peaceful and calm. I've always wanted to experience a ceremony of sorts and I believe that the next time will be a great one. Maybe I'll try a different one.

paper airplane dogfights in the meadow

the one reservation that i keep regarding "nature vs nurture" maybe just another spoke within an idealist's tutorial. my motto is fairly basic and it would sound something like this...of course people are influenced by their habitats and the tenants that occupy within...a vintage permit for this claim is Darwin's Galápagos archipelago...a territory brimming with blatant testimonies of environmental influence, evolved, straight cocked and locked for the next crusade...as animals will be but what's novel about this place is that DIVERSITY IS GENEROUS. Not just different types of animals but mixed bags of species. They're all on their own tip, doing their own thing...

observing people from the south bay and comparing them to people from san francisco made me think of this. and this made me think of shapes and colors and these as properties of energy we all sport.

i was on the muni on the way to golden gate park and i sat there by the bus driver...he looked so happy about his route, as you would guess his routine is a peaceful one. then a woman caught my attention. she was maybe a late twentysomething and on her lap was her son who kept inquiring of sweets. he kept asking "where's the sweets mommy?"...i think babies are ignorant and suck much but this was a cute attack all over the bus man...but this woman was leaning on the shoulders of another woman and it was poetry. this mother was most beautiful thing i've seen in a while and not like she was a model or held up a wasaga with her white gloves..it was that she was glowing with estrogen, holding her child proudly and existing gracefully lesbian and in her eyes existed this attitude, this life lived truly contently. she had donned the sun rays professionally and the best topping of all was that she wore a smirk upon her lips and it was all wrapped up there. it was like she GOT life and you wanted to fall in love with her right there. this makes you go..."oh, that's what we should paint"...

the last starfighter was stolen from me then delivered poorly

There are only two ways to defeat the demon that is traffic. You must wield the skill of pretend.

Pretend that your vehicle is a spaceship. The shift button is the lasers and the overdrive button is the rockets. The e-brake button is for the mines. That is all.

let me give you a tap dance okay

there's a lot of beautiful happenings and lotsa times we forget this...maybe it's because you have to be wearing certain goggles or maybe you just have to be a poet...but i think we just have to look around us and be here...we just have to take lonely walks around the forest and look.

today i saw two very beautiful things and it was the type that was too much...the type that makes you cry because your happy to know that its still around...lingering...but for real. people do this all the time...they go to weddings to remind themselves or for some, convince themselves that there is really some sort of authentic love out there and it's good to have this belief even for an instant, the belief that selflessness is real.

i was going for a walk down the street and there was this haggard and emaciated dog just being really lazy, being a big fat rug on the sidewalk, thinking about who the fuck knows. then another dog was walking toward it and he was sporty, just such a buddy. he dropped this toy urchin, the kind that squeaks when you squish it, purposely in front of old sleepy face and looked at him for like 5 seconds. then he just walked back to where he came from. what a cool guy.

then i went into my back yard and i got addicted to watching these ants being busy little lemmings and i guess one had died or lost in a brawl because he was on his back. this other ant checked the fucked up one out and picked him up, then carried him back into town. that was fucking boss because i bet he totally disobeyed orders and is gonna get his nuts ripped out but he did it anyway and that is very sweet.

i don't know. i wonder if blind people can dream.

empathy

.

Have you heard of rock'n'roll? Yes. Then you know who I am.

Allergies are such shitty genetic hand-me-downs. If I could I would take these genes and hide them in a huge slice of steak and feed it to a starving liger. Then when the liger shat it out, I would toss grenades all over that muck. Sometimes when i get a sneeze attack I get mad possessed and perform this shitty dance, as if some demons had a grudge about me. My allergies were tame at one point and I would only sneeze when i looked up at the sky or at the sun (soo bad for you). Now if I look at some guy walking on the street or if I look at a post it i'll just rapid fire that shit man and there's shrapnel everywhere!! i remember when I was 8 I was in a field chasing this chihuahua that stole my cookie and my body was like "hey, watch out for that pollen you idiot!" and i had to rub my eyes so I did for like 5 minutes. Then that wet flesh part of the corner eye started growing and growing until it fucking covered my pupils!! My body fucking blinded itself!! That's fucked up man. It goes away pretty easy with ice though but i had to play Marco Polo to get to it and that was weak.

If I ever get a camera, i'm gonna try to capture that calm before the storm, right before you explode yucky mucus. I swear, the faces humans make are fantastic!! Most people look like a kid about to cry after they just got whooped. Some look like they just caught their mom getting boned by Steve Buscemi. It looks crazy, but it's so REAL. An even more bananas act is the act of fighting a sneeze with your face. That makes you look like you feel when a rancher brands your buttocks.

I bet I can sneeze with my eyes open if i clockwork orange my stuff.