OCTOMATIC MAN

FRIENDS!!!

What is sup?

Well, I told you 2 things last time—that I was going to start doing automatic writing again, and that I was going to do adventures in the bathroom—me the most uncourageous person in the world finally using the men’s room in the post-Trans revolution (phase 1) Trumpocalypse.

I’m happy to report that on my bathroom adventures I’ve found them to be unobtrusively occupied & well-kept. In other words, there have been no “adventures” and I’m glad about this & I’ll let you know if anything adventuresome happens, but it may not be the life-changing experience I thought it would be : ))

However I do have some automatic writing (aka stream of wheat aka Vogon poetry aka classified NSA gibberish) for you. I am a little rusty at since being on big pharmaceuticals for the past 3 years but it’s all coming back to me : )

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VOGON: Jan ’18

(+ a few from Dec)

Slice the fog w/ 10 swords

I’m as paranoid as they come

Seriously tired poor wretched

Nibbled toes of Liberty

Pledging allegiance to the basement pizzeria

Slinging sex gangs

7381 Suicide Attempt Hotline

But where is the rest? I’m not gonna make it

Up the silo

Where’s the rest of the leopard print

Outside lines, outside spot

Coloring books for institutionalized adults

If they have you in effigy, they have you

The masque of the MRA v. permanent yoga pose wave 3 feminist (albino-neutral)

Reverse downward dog

Take it to tarantula photoshop

I’ve walked out w/ your images

Stuck up jerky

iMovie rendition of all the beheadings I never watched

All the stop-motion intent w/ which I live

You’ll pray for you

I’ll pray for me.

1205:0925p

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Construction on new head space

Began in early ’14

Before I fully understood

How much new junk I’d need to shove in there

I’m the human Univac

Purring through the slats

I can’t possibly hang more diplomas

And yet I must if I’m to board the ship

Where I applied to work for the cagey bee

I want to know the people of America like lovers

Like cameras

I want to see through their yellowed lenses

Bluing the world into

Something calmer than it is

I want to filter my thoughts

Through the pages of the phonebook

Weeks of doorstop poetry

I decide to use it

Instead of big dumb Pharma’s tampons &

Their tax-attached strings

Loophole Sunset Cervix

1206:0150p

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You grew like money from the ground

A green baby waving limbs

At a time when rockets

Can’t seem to reach space

Did you see the special effect it left in the photogenic atmo?

You’ve been killed, my refugees

And it makes me want to kick your corpses &

Spit on your graves

Because loving you, shedding my tears like

Sophisticated sprinkler systems all over your roots,

Gave me a joy that made all the sadness worth it…

You flop on your backs

Choking on ancient icebergs

Stomped to death by the sun

0111:0625a

I’m pretty sure my heart’s not red

It’s succulent & green

Wet like a reptile (to the eye not the touch)

I recognize you, Princess

My rival in androgyny

What world did I paint w/ all these invisible inks?

A trail of dewdrops

Leading to a future that glares

Silver-colorless, 

A close up that reminds me

We’re full of liquid rust,

Embarrassing green jellies…

Will the Presidency corrupt the Oprah?

Do you understand what I’m saying? Celebrities running for office?

Gore (Al) & Gore (Vidal)

bringing Hollywood to the shining opposite sea &

Washington all emotive, fluttering fans &

Going off script

There’s nothing we can do

I’m more afraid of Pence

His deluxe model Naziism

Scarier than the clown antics that pass 

For leadership

And then there’s Mother

With eyes like oil spilled

From a tiny car. SAD.

What’s happened since the last time I did this?

Too much to list.

Stuff no one would believe.

I live in a world I can’t trust to be there each morning

A world more scary than the one I painted

Last decade

And yet some beautiful details

Included in the hellish landscape (oops, topography)

No soothing aloe for sociopathy

You’ll have to resort to the bitter metals

Brewed at the pharmacy

Doled by millennials w/ neck tats

Your brain wears that dust like gold

Can you believe you retrieved that memory?

I was silenced; you were encouraged to speak

Why am I still angry?

I thought that would go away one day

Especially after all those tears

All that ancient sadness

Plundered from its chest

My chest

So… a little rusty

A mechanical puppy learning to drool

in the Age of Aquarius

Smiling from clavicle to clavicle

From sea to radioactive sea

0111:0675a

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Tell Them How You Really Feel

You sent me here w/out a handle. w/out a lid

So when I boiled over no one

Could take me from the stove

A blast furnace bending glass

A sagging bottle of fire

How much burning cools the herd?

Mentored by flames,

You are indeed hellbound

Unclothed uncamouflaged Shemperor

Airspace One

Airwave sizzle w/ warning

Of heirloom tomatoes mushrooming w/ disapproval

You bomb onstage

On blitzen und donder

Heil Hitler w/ one little finger

You’re fired…

And no hard cinnamon candy button

As consolation

0123:0225a

Speaking of cinnamon

Let’s sprinkle some on these cremains

A sweet coffee ocean scorched

By the orangest element

Hard butterscotch soda

Tarantula toes tickle that

Sensitive delta between us &

Novosibersk & Pyongyang

Unputined

Put under

Nup unit

1 tuna pun

Boy you said it

There’s just no sense there

Quoth the scenery, I owe him

His sacred Rent

The oligarch waiting 

To amputate

My thumbs w/ a sharpened dollar bill

Is that how I came here

W/ no handle, no lid?

W/ no magic (or even practical) wand?

No tempting cinnamon button

Glistening w/ power

No pulse, no produce

Just eggs in a cauldron

An unattractive alchemy

Dummy sex 

W/ a vertical frown

0123:0250a

Music is News

To my ears

Here we go on the evolution

Park/ride

Here,

We don’t evolve 

As much as stretch

Lengthen on tippy-toe

Reaching a layer of self

That was previously out of reach

Peeling it away w/ no onion tears

Phony emotions have grown

Into computery feelings

The boy w/ nail polish taps

‘Emotion’

Onto his not-computer screen

And cries deep inside

For his mother

W/ no outward glitches

They (the wealthy

Coastal educated prog

Ressive bleeding heart

Libtardo cabal) said 

‘Art is Dead’

In the 40s they said it

In the 80s they said it

But Art is more like The Moon

Flexing & waxing

Retracting & extending

Making porn in the sky

A divine whore

Fattening each monthly decade

2010s a difficult one!

We are mid-revolution

Scrambled, breaking &

Omeletted eggs stuck to the cauldron

Some recognize this

And some keep waiting for it to start

But we’ll look back at NOW

& say That was no present

0125:0150a

1988,

What was it all about??

It was like time held me down &

Raped me

Then forced me to go to work

In a factory wearing

A flowy impractical clownsuit

Caught in the gears

I’m no longer allowed

To say I was sent here in the wrong body

It’s for progress &

the next generation

But how shall I say it?

It’s okay that people know

Your insanity as well as

Your accomplishments

But man was I born in the wrong body…

0125:0225a

[oh

Oh

OH

Don’t remove the Clintons from the equation

She wanted a candidate (opponent) she

Could easily beat; didn’t count on Putin]

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How did we used to do this—

Know the world thru our fingers?

Private tours thru

The next level of awareness

Led to lots of angel-talk

But no clothing removal

Led to lots of soldiers

Crying in my ear

But no end to the war

I started a thought in the dark

But the thought grew filaments

It was light

Because

It was a thought of Gumby

Prone in a state of gumbo

An orange stew (for instance,

Did you even know there was an

Election in Russia tomorrow?)

How will we hack it?

By going to war w/ China

Finally paying for all that

Pipeline & drywall & panda bacon &

Suicide

0129:0125a

DOTS!!!!

I’m a Fool

An uneducated Fool!

But here I am alone w/ time again

After it tried to hurt me…

No right or wrong side

But middle of the tracks

Their helix straightened 

W/ an iron

Called locomotion

Ssshhh..I’m trying to hear,

Not think…

My poetry turned into thoughts in 2012

Big abstract detached worms leaving my ears

Through sinking ratholes on a ship tipped up

Tethering corona to sun

You had a blast w/ those eggs!

Nothing hatched, well…actually

Some tiny perfect chicks

Unviable on the internet, 

Too peckish for screen culture

They’d never quite find 

Their niche, never make it

Onto the blacklist

0129:0125a

Behind the proscenium lies:

More lies! Someone who

Believes he lights the way

Is actually a darklord carrying in his Armani

Exchange pockets

The seeds of a painful

Civil uprising

The thinking & the feeling

Will go at it again

And compromise somewhere

On the Wheel of Fortune

54*latitude

31* longitude

0129:0150a