a smile at the corner of your mouse
on your face a mouth that smiles
in your head a mouse
wiggles waves and scampers miles
thinks your skull’s a house
string cheese is his guilty pleasure
stolen from your bites
puts it with his other treasure
secrets and delights
that is why at times a tickle
in your throat or nose
tells you that his path is fickle
as he comes and goes
you may say he isn’t really
anything at all
but his tale’s a peach a dilly
he will answer–call!
the cat demands i watch her eat
insignificant and nearly useless human quoth cookie the cat telepathically
you shall now justify your existence
by hovering over me whilst i crunch the dry offering and lick the wet
neither are quite to my liking
and you would be well advised to improve on future offerings
but for some reason your hulking form helps with the taste
and calms me
she has not-quite-promised to put in a good word with the creator
if i and her other underling perform as required
telling me in no uncertain terms
the creator is feline
and hinting
that the creator may actually be she
tableau vivant
taxes levied leveled Levi
blimey barney’s stoned but viva
eager beamers roar & win
ukuleles sound like mint
TAB LOW/WE WANT
The candidate survived the peer review
And then her father died, as if on cue
Bulimia & travel left her raw
LOVE set her world aright & flipt her shwa
Obsessing over Style & cred & thin
Will make us OVERLOOK a crucial hint
I don’t want to clutter up the post with annotation, but I will say that Bulimia and Depression seem highly correlative. Also: I think the image has good potential for snap/crackle/poppery that has not yet been realized. I did two other scan/edits that were even less successful:
Every night I work I fish out one of the beautifully round-bowled spoons from the silverware tray and take it to the desk. There is something about its shape and its reflectivity that just grabs me. Last night I did this drawing, posing the spoon over and over again over the crossword puzzle grids I’d drawn and filled in earlier, and then I put the spoon, though still clean, into the dishwater tub by one of the industrial-strength garbage disposals.
Over thirty years ago I did a 24″ x 30″ drawing with the remains of several chicken dinners variously posed, and I called it “Bone Symphony.” It now hangs in our dining room, thus:
So this decades-later, much-simpler drawing of mine is “Spoon Sonata with Crossword Counterpoint.” I got lucky with the alliteration. [smiles]
Peaceful inside; outside, glop
Evanescent crackle/pop
Route that jet to Barcelona
Craft that Lisa: first name Mona
Even fish can get a fin in
If it’s oil on Belgian linen
VIM, my dearest, needs a Spine
‘D suit a darling Clementine
The crude drawn house inside the skewed window pane hearkens back to the early early Sixties. The teacher had us draw houses; I drew three or so. I distinctly remember that the one I drew with windows and a door got a gold star. The one with windows but no door got a silver star, and the one without windows got no star at all, even though it was a faithful rendering from memory of the windowless west side of our house.
Since light takes time to travel (usually 186,000mi/sec or so but can be as slow as 32ft/sec if passing through pressurized liquid helium, so I’ve heard) all glass windows are a sort of time-machine perception portal. The light from some stars has taken a galaxy’s rotation or so to get to our naked eyes.
beam of shadow
in this myth
a trickster was unseated
from her chair in the council of Hell
and spitefully
she invested the looming
SHADOW of her RAGE
with an echo of her malefic mind
and a mandate of
i n v a s i o n
and that is why
we feel awful sometimes
when there is
no reason
What a face she had! Unashamed eyebrows, mesmerizing eyes, chin impossibly assertive for being so brief. But it’s what she did with what she had, well into latter life, that goes to show you where her real magic was. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hLgBlw4O6As
My dad was a Gamblin’ Man, and it negatively impacted both his marriages. He also had an appreciation for the unadorned female form–impact unknown, to me at least. I have inherited both these proclivities, and have found through the school of hard knocks that the healthiest way to deal with them is to own up to them, avoid casinos (three-plus years of gambling sobriety and counting!), and love the one I’m with to the exclusion of others, physically anyway. But I still itch, and I still look, so sometimes I “own my shadow” and take a look at one or the other of them, or, in this case, both.
Here are the words to the Gritlock acrostic:
Gamblers fly high then hit the wall
Rise & shimmy & slip & fall–O
It’s a harrowing story arc
Taut with tragedy; tawdry; stark
Here are the words to the Gridluck acrostic:
Got three squares in the office pool
Righteous fare for a Looky-Lou
Idle eyeful of tawny chic
Dares not touch but he’ll take a peek
I was at the gym, finished with my workout, and so I texted Denise: “Bayou lunch?” (I cannot resist a pun.) She answered in the affirmative, swung by and picked me up in her truck, and since I was buying I picked the place: The Schoolhouse. Sitting across from her there, with her hair uncharacteristically swept away from her beautiful brow, I was struck with a thought of a single word: “Athena.” She looked like the goddess–wise, courageous, and ready to strategize a campaign. So was planted the seed of this page.
Here are the words of the triple acrostic:
Dispensing with hist’ry & like parenthetica
Embracing a mythos & sweet sentiment
Neglectful of nine facts & thrill’d by the tenth
It is most behooving & fitful, this scene
Suggestive of battle & spillage of spleen
Emboss’d on a column & set in Helvetica
Here is something that was thought out in advance, but executed while not feeling well. The show must go on, and I wanted to post today, but the impatience and shakiness that comes with minor illness is right there on the page. Perhaps I’ll do a do-over after I’m well. I really like the way “hand held” has come to mean something electronic, though it’s still connotative of relaxed love.
Here are the words to the double acrostic:
Holographic novelty is not quite in the flesh
And in vitro is a workaround if you’ve no crèche
NEED is forging our tomorrows but we may forestall
Datamining pseudojoy if we walk parasoled
One with Clay, Image and Text 