Saturday, December 31, 2016
I was resting on the fuzz of a giant peach and the softness felt so good against my naked body. I yawned lazily and rolled over and felt my pubic hair mesh with the peach fuzz and it's softness intertwining with my beard and it's gentle buoyancy was a dream. Just as I was wondering how I got so lucky, it started rolling down the mountain and I had to leap up from my dreamy stupor and start running on the spot so as to stay on top of the peach. Naked and flailing, I felt rather less relaxed than I did during the pube nestling era detailed earlier.
Friday, December 30, 2016
A horse bit a big chunk out of my flank and organs were oozing out and making my white shirt sticky and red, not to mention it having a big hole bitten out of it. "Hey, Horse!" I said, "this a fancy double gauze cotton shirt you just ruined. You gonna pay for that?" The horse gave a snooty harrumph and turned it's head and trotted away. As more and more blood and organs and goop seeped out of my gaping wound I felt myself growing lightheaded and closer to death, but my raging indignation at this breach of social etiquette would surely keep me alive at least another few minutes.
Tuesday, December 27, 2016
"I can't cry just like that", he said, "you gonna have to slap me around me a little if we gonna get these tears into the jar and turf it off the cliff and satisfy Poseidon". So she slapped him around good, back and front handed. He was getting red-faced and trembling in the lip a little, but it wasn't coming fast enough. She grabbed a poker out the fire and started thinking about terrible things she could come up with about his mother and about the the puppy dog that had died the day after Christmas when he was five.
Thursday, December 22, 2016
Cheeping bird waiting for their mother to vomit up some food decide that that they want pop tarts, and not predigested pop tarts, some straight out of the packet, and hot cocoa too. Mother says, "OK, but we don't got no toaster or electricity or anything up here in the nest so you gonna have to climb onto me and i'll fly us over to people house and we'll sneak in and have some pop tarts". So the little cheeping birdies hop on and they cruise over and slip in through an open window. Then the cheeping little birdies get off their mothers back and the whole gang of them do that silly high stepping cat-burglar walk across the bench toward the pop tarts.
Wednesday, December 21, 2016
As I was being photographed I decided to leave my body and go inside the camera. I passed through the lens and was almost cut in half by the shutter, but i made it through, Indiana Jones style, my spirit grabbing it's spirit hat at the last moment at the risk of getting it's spirit hand chopped off. I floated all through the inside of the camera, running my spirit fingers along it's gears and levers, smelling the film, laying along the curved surfaces. It was a holy place.
Monday, December 19, 2016
A peaceful rodent sleeps most of it's life away, emerging only to root around for food in the long grass and to briefly sun it's belly. On one particular occasion of belly sunning, a hawk swoops down and clutches the rodent in it's claws. The claws fit so snugly against it's belly, there is pain but it's a goooooood pain. The rodent knows the hawk can feel something there too. As they fly back toward the hawk's rocky cave home, it looks down now and then and makes eye contact with the rodent. Hard eye contact. It still isn't sure whether it will eat the rodent or attempt to make a life together, but it knows these raw, fresh feelings are making it hard to concentrate on flapping.
Sunday, December 18, 2016
Gooey feelings can both impede and make ones life easier to circumnavigate. The nausea can make it difficult to eat foods and thus maintain the engine that powers ones legs, arms and head, but the floating can be useful for passing through a crowd of people by simply hovering over the top of them and bobbing your way through the air with a dopey look on your face. Overall, i will give gooey feelings an 8.5 out of ten and recommend them to those who appreciate tension and altered states and purple clouds.
Thursday, December 15, 2016
Neurosurgeons operating in the wind have to compensate for big breezes and go to start cutting into your brain at precisely the wrong place, knowing that the imminent big gust will blow their scalpel right into the correct place to make your brain function in the manner of some atomic nazi superman and not paralyze you completely or make you forever mix up purple and orange. It makes them sweat with nausea and the cold wind on their sweat reminds them of that feeling of coming to, post-orgasm, when all of a sudden you are aware of how sweaty and puffed you are and slowly you reconnect with the present dimension yet you carry a glow carried over from the dimension of orgasm.
Wednesday, December 14, 2016
A Latin-American man in shorts and a singlet roller-skates haphazardly toward the bottle shop. He has not roller-skated since he was a boy, and these roller-skates do not really fit him, and he is rather drunk already. All the same, there is a giddy thrill in flying along on wheels, feeling that he himself is the vehicle and his clothing is the passenger. What a thrill it might be to roller-skate naked? he thinks. The cool wind blowing all through his pubic hair and hitting his sweaty back and the sunshine beating down on his fleshy human body as he flies along. Oh the sensuality and danger of it all!
Tuesday, December 13, 2016
I bathed in the moon river and felt a healthy phosphorous glow all over. Each droplet seemed to go into my pores, wiggle around a little and pop back out to slide down my chest and into my armpit and run back down into the shimmering stream it came from. I arched my back and looked out into space and I could see another moon, lighting up the moon river in a white glow of pure explosive light light light. I opened my eyes wide.
Monday, December 12, 2016
Arrows pierced through the side of the thatched roof cottage. Smoke was everywhere. If I couldn't turn into a purple mist soon and seep out through the thatched roof of this thatched roof cottage, I was going to be a corpsed up dead cadaver person before i could say twoallbeefpattiesspecialsaucelettucechessepicklesoniononaseassmeseedbun. I closed my eyes and concentrated real hard and went urrrnnngggggghh. A large beard pushed right on out of my chin, sprouting like time lapse footage in a nature documentary. Obviously that was the wrong kind of unngggghhhh.
Thursday, December 8, 2016
Heavy raindrops drip off the roof in great globs and it's the most beautiful rain I've ever seen, coating the barbecue and the exercise bike and the railing in fine living crystals like they've been dressed by the worlds most fabulous designer to walk down the red carpet at the latin grammy awards. I can just see the barbecue and the exercise bike clomping down that red carpet together now, bejeweled to the motherfucker, waving at the adoring crowd. Goodness it's nice to be alive sometimes when the wind hits you and the the sounds of life are all round.
Wednesday, December 7, 2016
Birds called to each other from across the neighborhood. They were plotting the overthrow of humanity. Little did they know I could understand bird calls and was aware of every element of their devious plot. As I listened though, I thought about how we humans were fucking everything up and that perhaps it was time to let birds have a go at running the planet. So I just put my feet up and sipped my lemonade and whistled a little tune about a river on the moon, and looked forward to my species' enslavement and the glorious future the earth would have under bird custodianship. Oh, how the flowers would bloom in brighter colours than ever before, and the trees would grow tall and sturdy, and the birds would sit on the branches and sing in perfect harmony, swaying back and forth in unison.
Tuesday, December 6, 2016
I wrapped myself completely in masking tape, except for my mouth. Then I wandered through the garden, feeling around with my hands for berries hanging from trees. I felt the texture and size of each one and really savoured the feeling, but I ate them all indiscriminately. On the fifth berry I started to feel quite ill. Sweat soaked my masking tape. I hopped along faster, gorging on more berries, hoping i would come upon an antidote for whichever one was making me feel this way.
Monday, December 5, 2016
I followed a crow. It seemed to me it did not know I was following it and the thrill of espionage pulsed all through me. It seemed so full of purpose, yet so aimless. Walking about, hopping up on railings looking down. Flying off the ground just a little and coming down again, scrabbling about. It walked around a concrete block and down into a valley and I kept trying to tail it at a distance but it somehow eluded me and disappeared without my seeing it go. I was giddy from the thrill of it all. I wandered back to the gathering of elderly Italians with my heart beating and a glow all over me.
Sunday, December 4, 2016
The violins thrummed so violently that the little wire giraffes encased in glass began to tremble. The glass cracked. They shook it off and began to walk gingerly across the coffee table, first gentle attempts at ambulation for creatures that had been encased since the moment they were whole. The mother and daughter made tender steps over toward the bear shaped honey container. They searched it's plastic eyes for signs of friendship. It at least did not appear to be an angry bear, so they approached cautiously and licked honey off it's side with small, wiry tongues.
Saturday, December 3, 2016
Orange blossoms bloomed out of my shoulders. They were very pretty and I was pleased. I cut holes in the shoulders of all my shirts and jackets so as not t crush them and so I could show them off properly. I was swanning down the street feeling very foxy with my my orange blossom shoulder pad outerwear when a giant bee leaning against a lamppost gave me a hard, sexy look. I leaned against the fence and played with my flowers and shot an insouciant look back.
Friday, December 2, 2016
I was leaned against a tree, embraced in a passionate kiss. I could feel the bark against my back and her skin beneath the silk under my hands and her hot breath and our soft moans, and everything was so enraptured that I could pay no attention to the clockwork swans that had surrounded us. They began to peck at our legs and bite our ribs and press us hard against the tree, but this was only registered through a tiny side window of our minds, we were on the bow of a ship looking out over the ocean and the cabin boy was down below watching these clockwork swans through the porthole. Eventually there were so many clockwork swans that they formed a kind of mountain beneath us, lifting us right onto the top branches of the tree. The sun baked our hair and the clockwork swans bit our ears and we kissed.
Thursday, December 1, 2016
Walking in the gardens, one might see a bird sitting atop a cactus and wonder how this bird does not get spiked. All of a sudden the bird takes flight and carries the great cactus in it's claws. You take flight also and follow the bird, intent on knowing what it's doing with that cactus. You follow it out of the city, through deeper and deeper bush until it enters a cave with some burly looking security birds standing guard out front. You try to saunter on past, whistling the tune to 'Stardust' and ignoring the security, but no dice. They stop you and prod you in the chest and squawk at you what appears to be "where do you think you're going?" "I just wanna know what's gonna happen with that cactus!" you say. "Well that's some shit that's a bird secret", they say, "and you ain't a bird, so scram."
Wednesday, November 30, 2016
Shotgun wedding in the mountains with lots of garlands of rosemary worn by all, and every member of the wedding party with a shotgun, though a few of the older guests carried civil war era muskets. The groom was shaking and did a wild dance down the aisle, it caught on and made it's way down the mountain and across the country till in every discotheque, bar and barn dance folks were doing the shotgun wedding boogie. There were tales it had originated at a real shotgun wedding up in the mountains but nobody believed that gibberish. The DJ cued up a record and said "Alright kids, it's Shotgun Wedding Boogie Fever by The Starlight Express Band, I wanna see you all doing that boogie like there's a dozen shotguns pointed right at you, alright."
Monday, November 28, 2016
Friendly aliens came down and smiled at everybody. They brought some of their space booze out and we all sat in the park and got a little lifted and felt the sunshine on our outer layers and they made their weird alien noises and gestures and we were feeling pretty friendly too so we smiled and chuckled. Eventually we realized a game of charades would get over the language barrier, but even though we could act stuff out, we couldn't really communicate if the other species was getting the answer right. But eventually they took out their alien boombox and played some wild space jazz and as the the sun was coming down we all got our wiggle on on the grass and and showed each other our moves and man, it was beautiful. Those friendly aliens are a gas.
Sunday, November 27, 2016
I ran out into the street dancing, doing spins and leaps and twists and the pianos rang out all around me and I danced out into traffic and pirouetted all through it and over the top of cars and onto rooftops and back down onto the street and a I patted dogs and scruffed little kids on the top of their heads and kissed girls and sipped strangers drinks and kept dancing all through the neighborhood until I got to the river, and then I danced right out on top of the water, the balls of my feet balancing on the tiny ripples and riding the current and I leaned back and pulled an eel out the water and kissed it and tenderly let it slide back underwater, swooning and wiggling it's way back to the little pocket of underwater it called home.
Saturday, November 26, 2016
A dramatic flurry of feathers greeted me as i stepped out onto the boat. I had been in the cabin counting my jewels and whispering sweet nothings to the cabin boy, and unbeknownst to me a band of angry seagulls had been gathering outside. I am a pirate and go where I care to, but seagulls are deeply divisive and protective of their territory. They felt i had sailed onto their turf without a proper parlay and they were going to rough me up. So there they were flapping and pecking at me from all angles, and i was swinging my cutlass, cutting whatever i could, sending feathers flying.
Friday, November 25, 2016
Little Beaver sips his scotch and stares out the window. The Miami sunshine is streaming through the glass, but he's painting raindrops all over it. He's trying to be cool, trying to focus on some other thing than his girl running around all over town. Hell, he's trying to be happy for her. Young lady like that, that's what she oughta be doing. Running round having a good time. He's got everything he needs here, plenty of fine silk pillows, his guitar, his hi-fi system, a nice bottle of brown liquor and a cat making figure eights around his ankles. He sighs. I can dig it, baby.
Thursday, November 24, 2016
Inside the church organ there is a family of spiders crowded around the dinner table that perches precariously on their web. The spiders are all gathered around the fly that they have to share and they are saying spider grace. In the middle of the prayer, the littlest spider leaps up and grabs the fly in it's spidery fangs and goes running off down the organ pipe. The others are aghast and give chase, but they'll never catch the baby spider. Baby spider is eating the fly as it runs for extra strength, and baby spider has the strength of determination to go clear, because today it's really going clear. It's decided that it's family are a bunch of jerks and it's gonna find a new life in a new organ with a rag tag bunch of misfit orphan organ spiders that really understand it.
Little blobs of pain floating around so small that you not even quite sure you can see them, it's just a weird ripple of the water or a leaf or a sea cucumber or something, but you don't feel quite right, and then there's a whole bunch of big globs of pain all blobbing up and down in the water and you like, "oh shit, that's definitely a bunch of pain, at least I wasn't just imaging things and losing my mind", and by the time you finish that sentence they've blobbed up a whole lot more of them like fishing lures floating there all over the top of the water and now shit these things are just about covering the whole surface and then you think, "geez, is there even any water here any more?", and that's when you know you officially full of pain.
Tuesday, November 22, 2016
A giant worm the size of a worm that is bigger than other worms pressed itself against a building and made it all slimy. The building was grossed out and ran away to wash the worm juice off it in the bathroom. As the building looked at itself in the mirror, it got to thinking about how it'd spent all of it's life so far just standing there in the city, providing a place of shelter for humans to conduct their financial transactions. In a way it could feel good about this life of quiet service, but right now the building felt indignant about never having looked out for it's own needs. It shook all the people out of itself and heading to the railroad tracks. It would hop a boxcar and start getting into all the adventures it had missed out. At least three per day. First it would need a handkerchief to tie around it's neck. And a good knife.
Monday, November 21, 2016
My skin feels so good that I feel i should invite the world's refugees to come and live on my skin. Come tired wanderers, rest your heads on this soft pillowy bed of mildly hair skin and in the morning we can get to work building a new city for you here, first some makeshift shelter and then onto barns and farming type things and eventually windmills and office buildings and giant statues of fallen loved ones and space needle lookouts and I wonder how I will get around doing my daily business with all these things hanging off me. I shall certainly have to have my tailor make a few adjustments to my sports coats, perhaps the people can just live on one arm, and I can pioneer a new look in one armed sports coats.
Sunday, November 20, 2016
There is a beautiful young lady asleep in my bed. I am awake. Oftentimes I am asleep in my bed and she is here, awake. There are brief periods and odd times when we are both here awake at the same time and we eat sandwiches full of cheese and look into each others eyes. But this is not one of those times. She is breathing softly into the purple pillow and her bleached white hair and her brown skin and the purple pillow make for a fine combination. There are no ants running through her hair.
Saturday, November 19, 2016
Crumbling the moist flakes of this acrid unknown material into the joint, I wondered if i was making a poor life choice. Had Albert Einstein begun his journey into legendary science guy status in such a manner? I concluded that he probably had, twisted it up and puffed away. As the noxious purple smoke entered my lungs and circulated throughout my bloodstream and fizzed in my brain, I started to formulate all kinds of scientific theories. They seemed to be presenting themselves to me fully formed, but I had no academic basis in science whatsoever so i couldn't understand them at all. I asked the man next to me if he could take a picture of my brain for later assessment.
Friday, November 18, 2016
Feeble minded sycophants in jodhpurs all rushing up a hill, tearing at one another till they are nothing but skeletons in jodhpurs, eventually each bone is severed from the other and the entire hill is covered white with bones. The beige jodhpurs slide to the bottom and make a ring around the hill, a moat of jodhpurs if you will. It looks like some kind of upside down chicken and rice dish, but all those bones are soon set upon by dogs and each one runs away wagging it's tail with an "I've got a new bone, and I stole it!" gleam in it's eye.
Thursday, November 17, 2016
The bitter taste hung around my mouth for several days, unabated. I tried eating c antelope and drinking gin with milk and i gargled drain cleaning fluid and i scraped my tongue with a razor but it was to no avail. I realized the bitterness must be in my brain so I went onto the rooftop and meditated for three days, through the rain and hail and lighting. I was struck by lightning seven times. It seemed ridiculous. When i returned to the ground, I could not walk in a straight line so i took to walking sideways, like a crab. I used my hands like pincers, and when i wanted someone to pass me the salt, I would look them hard in the eye and make the "click click" pincer movement with my hands.
Wednesday, November 16, 2016
Underneath the night sky there walk little feet with three prongs of spiky nailed yellow tough skin that scratches the ground in morse code, Alerting the other fowl that the time for action is now. The chickens and pheasants and geese and water ducks gather in the clearing and form a great bird pyramid. Eventually the very highest bird is able to reach the moon. It gives it one fierce peck and the moon cracks open, with a mighty crack that sends a wave shooting through the universe, spinning planets around and shooting cosmic dust all over the place. The great fiery bird emerges from the moon and squawks haughtily.
Wednesday, January 20, 2016
The bungee cable stretched taught in a pleasing fashion, and then snapped altogether. My heart beat fast as I dropped through empty space and hit the water. I seemed to only increase in the speed of my plunging, before I could really compute the science of this I had hit the bottom of the lake, plunged through the rock, passed right through the centre of the earth (getting rather crispy on the way), and popped right out the other side of the earth. Thankfully I grabbed some chinese food as I popped out, because lord knows how long I was going to keep falling through space like this.
Tuesday, January 19, 2016
The post is picked up from the mailbox and flung into the air. The currents in the air have been digitally magnetized and slipstreamed so that the packages go exactly where they are supposed to go. The only problem is pirate birds. Dirty stinking pirate birds with eye-patches and sharpened beaks and cutlasses attached to their wings. Pirate pigeons and pirate cockatoos and pirate wrens.
Monday, January 11, 2016
On the top of old smokey I found one meatball. It was frozen in the snow, so i took it into the cabin and cuddled up in bed with it, and I nursed it back to health until it was nice and soft and ready to eat. But just as I went to bite it, it bit my hand clean off. Blood spurted in obscene jets. I screamed and ran out into the snow.
Wednesday, January 6, 2016
I got me a chicken wingding and the bones got stuck in my throat and they poked out so then I had a hole in my throat like those guys with smoking voiceboxes and I started to play the didgeridoo through the hole and it was a dynamite combination but then just as I was about to take the stage for my big performance at the concert hall, the hole in my throat closed over. "Get me a plate of chicken wingdings!", I said to my assistant, Charles.
Monday, January 4, 2016
I get to trembling whenever a butterfly lands on me. Those tiny feet wending their way along my shoulder, getting right into my pores, those wings softly caressing my ear. I want you to walk and nuzzle all over me, butterfly, in all my crevices. I will cover myself with whatever it is butterflies like to eat, I will make myself a sanctuary for butterflies, I will set my backyard up as a butterfly paradise, Just give me those sweet steps.