Vogonball Championships

Hello Friends,

I hope you are well. I am feeling pretty good these days,

But realize my nervous system is like the solar system--vast & unattainable

In its far-reaching dimensions & I'm only renting space in it until it

Kicks me out.

And since last summer, it keeps trying to kick me out

Every few weeks/months/days.

************

This blog is a funny thing…it is my way of talking

Without having to call anyone on a phone and force them

To listen to my voice, or worse getting in their personal space & rambling on & on & on

All the stuff I ramble on quietly about in print. Lately,

I mostly write on & on about the choice I've made to transition from the one true gender

To the other true gender (because there are only 2 true genders in this world)

But I'm going to do something different now--

Instead of writing here about transitioning & all its convolutions 

I'm going to do that on my fabulous Tumblr page,

(Which I created to connect to more transitioning people, but which

Is mostly a younger crowd.) I will write my short, random confession-style

Thoughts about transitioning here: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/vindicationdonkeystar

Also---whenever I put the word 'Vogon' in the title of a blog, it gets tons of hits

From Russia

(and when there is a big airplane crash -- which there hasn't been in awhile -- my

Short story 'Distressica Finds The Source Of Happiness'  gets lots of hits)

Just some patterns I've noticed…patterns…patterns…blogosphere pitter-patter

Stream-of-conscious non-threatening pansexual jibber-jabber.

Speaking of which!!! Here are some Vogon poems from early this year. Enjoy.

**********************

PHANTOMS FLYING OFF THE SHELF

Despite a hundred percent

Price hike

Back-ordered til Independence

Day – all single-malt drinking

Single dads and beer-swilling

Basement dwellers observe

The layaway lent

Til availability extends its hand

Til wrought iron fortresses flap

Like veils of Maya

Then leak like sieves and thread-

Bare doormats

Not committed to geospatial

Relations

Not all snipers make

Good nannies

What can we, the

Undisciplined

Aerialists modify to make

The phantom obey?

To convince the lark to spy

Or swallow anthrax?

To deliver boy band contraband

To Sasha & Malia

(by the way, can they come

out and play?)

The sprinklers, honestly

The worthiest defense

Spray them like mosquitos

From the sky,

Droning to their deaths as

Well-compensated sentinels

Decide there’s some playfulness

In the grave

Your phantom,

When it arrives,

When you fondle its

Dynamic and delicate parts—

and take them gently apart—

Will resonate only in the

Pathways of bats

Over drinks w/ a trusted

Yet disadvantaged neighbor who

Can’t wait to share in your

Reputable mission

You release

Your outgoing phantom & promise

It will find its intended 

Target by 3 a.m.

While you guide it from

Your inner wasteland

1-30-15

****************

Ancient unfinished art c. 1990 Just 'cuz

EVERYONE KNOWS

Everyone knows laughter is for

Fools who dropped out of

Society and can't find the ropes

To drop back in…

Everyone knows

A woman who is 8 heads tall

And wears a size zero shoe

Everyone knows 

A man w/ a beard who has won

A modern day sword fight

Everyone knows how to write code

Everyone knows how to make a tunafish sandwich

Everyone knows the difference

Between "sex" and "gender"

Everyone still calls me 'Miss! Miss!

Ma'am!'

Everyone wishes they could

Board a spaceship & feel the

Consolation

Of leaving this planet behind

Everyone loves being green

Everyone can blithely say

'I would wear a sexy dress if my boss

Wouldn't see a picture of it

On Facebook'

Everyone loves Halloween

But dreads Secretary's Day

Everyone's ear is tuned to a

Different frequency

But none are equipped with

Volume knobs

Everyone's eye sees what it

Wants to see & ignores

What it doesn't

Everyone's mouth is made

Of the same meat it eats

Everyone including me

4-12-15

*******************

UNDER CONSTRUCTION

I planned to contribute to the million-line poem

But decided to write a poem of my own

I don't already have enough of them

Like children & courage, poems are scarce

Around here…

I need to make an effort

To put this line here & carefully

Place this one right below it

Focusing on what I want to say

Like cameras & corneas collaborating on

One point of view

My poem looks like

A rezoned neighborhood

And now my doorbell rings

Witnesses or joint casers

For I know it's not a friend 

Indeed

I can't make people stay

Yet I can't make them go away

I'm not pregnant

And never will be…I've had a vasectomy

My binder glows in the black light

This is all making sense now

The moon cries

Through every social media guru

Preaching 'Crying is for the infirm,

The ungrateful, the weak,

The unevolved!!'

I've seen the stars & your transformation

You are spellbinding

I am still under construction

It will take the rest of my life

Just to change my name

5-2-15

**************

There you are, Friends. If you are still reading, I hope you are having a good evolutionary time period. And I'll see you next time--it's been a while since I made a horrible music video for you. And I've written a few new songs, so…perhaps next time, something from the Garage!

Stream Of Mad Manliness

Friends & Allies,

I hope all is fine in your worlds, as I am battling a feeling of unease

With all the soft, nerfy tendrils of my heart

I feel an earthquake inside me

Again….every few months

Like a natural disaster I rumble

My tectonic chakras slamming into place &

Opening inner eyeball doors

Life is as safe as it is unsafe

And as fair as it is unfair

And as balanced as Fox News,

No just kidding…even Fox News is balancing something 

We may not be hearing over here

Over here over here in the U.S.A.

I try to keep my sense of humor,

But sometimes I give it away--

I donate it to the humorless void

I can't quite locate inside my frame

Is it in my skull?

My ribcage?

Sometimes it's a tremor located

In my legs and they collapse

Like third world infrastructure in 

A 7.3 quake

I have had 3 wonderful months in a row

Spring is my favorite season after Autumn

But here comes Summer, that bitch…

I fear her. Or him. I don't mean to

Gender the seasons…  SPEAKING

of GENDER:

I almost made it out to the 

Harvey Milk Festival--I planned on going

I wanted to go & show my support &

See the music & hear the murmur of progress

But I realized:

I am absolutely SATURATED with the LG(BT)Q dilemma

Right now, and I need to step back from it

I need to remember who I am besides someone

Who is changing slowly into

Who he really is…

Yes I said it: He. HE.

PEARL

So far I have shared mostly the shallow aspects 

Of transitioning--the clothes

The outward appearance, the attempts to

Avoid being called "Miss" or "Ma'am"

But now I am thinking of myself in male pronouns

I think "He" instead of "She"

And that is much harder than

Choosing what neutral, masculine outfit to wear

Because all my neurons scream

"No No NO NO NO  NO!!!!!!"

You are not allowed to be in that club!

You are not anatomically correct!

"You are too short to be a man. You've GOT to 

Accept that you're a female!!" (Mom's voice after my suicide attempt

always echoing in my head)

The laughter…the questions…the jokes…the

Unwanted gropes

There is a lot of POLITICS surrounding GENDER TRANSITION

We have polarizing figures like Bruce Jenner & Kristin Beck

So public, both hated & revered for doing what they're doing

There are TERMINOLOGY issues--

Apparently it's not okay to talk about "passing"

It triggers things in people who have made it

Through their transition already

But I am okay with the word "passing"

That's all I can do right now

There is issue with the phrase "born in the wrong body"

But that is EXACTLY how I describe my situation

I guess the preferred phrase is

"Assigned female at birth (AFAB)"

That seems a) like a mouthful b) euphemistic

c) it doesn't have the gravitas that accompanies the kind

of gender dysphoria I've experienced all my life

And there is friction between those who are public about

Their transition (Jenner/Beck)

And those who wish to remain "stealth" (just live as their

chosen gender w/out letting anyone know there was a "journey"

from one to the other)

And I can respect both of those decisions

I can understand why some people would go "stealth"

Even though I don't feel I could do that

I need this to be a "journey" I can share with

The world, no matter what 

And hey, I just have to ask--

Why has the "trans community" forgotten about

CHAZ??

He is a public figure; he shared his transition

On a mini reality called 'Becoming Chaz'; he was on

Dancing With The Stars, for chrissakes!!

I never hear his name lumped in with

The famous (mostly female) trans population.

Anyway…enough about all that

I am moving along slowly, slothfully, snailishly

Forgiving myself for all the years

Of anger and hate and frustration

And restlessness and fakery,

And any hurt that has caused the people around me

I'm trying to accept myself for who I am

Someone who WAS born in the wrong body

And who has come out in a time when it seems safe to do so…

Attempting to be who I really should've been

From age 2.

That is the truth, and sometimes it robs me of my happiness, humor & sanity

And sometimes it is the very

Source of those things

Aaahhhhh, LIFE. You mysteriously little angel w/

Devilish afterbite. I'm still with you.

And if you're still with me, here is an art project that didn't go so well

I wanted to draw "something shiny" in pencil. 

I chose scissors, but did not do a good job with the shininess…

Frustration ensued.

“I am so angry with myself because I cannot do what I should like to do,” he wrote in a letter as he tussled with mental illness —

FUCK

Social Experiment & Feline Poetry

HI FRIENDS!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Sorry to SHOUT but I'm excited to be here,

Blogging away pretentiously about my sloth-like transition.

The Moonchild & I went on a little excursion to the East coast last week

And since it was a new place/alien space

I decided to really see how andro I could be

Sometimes it's hard for me in my home town because everyone knows I'm

"really a lady" 

It's hard to suddenly embody a more masculine persona

Shit, I've tried all my life NOT to be too masculine

And I have perfected so much WASPy feminine daintiness, it's

Downright embarassing… & even when I'm hunched up in layers of T-shirts and flannel 

I get called "Miss! Miss!…Ma'am!!"

So…on this East coast adventure I wanted to see if I could avoid being called

'Miss' or 'Ma'am' … basically I just wanted to see

If I could 'pass' even without being on T(extoxterone).

I dressed accordingly (as a grown up dude on a casual business trip)

I wore my binder

I repressed all my encoded feminine attributes (the giggling, squeeing, hand-gesturing)

I tried to keep my posture as tall and confident as I could

I refrained from using public restrooms

And I spoke in my lower registers when I had to talk to strangers….AND

I did not get called 'Miss' or 'Ma'am' once!!!!

We mostly got called 'You guys'

I was surprised at how happy that made me--all my life being misgendered or being told

I'd be a lot prettier if I smiled, or wore nicer clothes, or acted more lady-like

'Miss!!!! Misss!!!! Ma'am!!!!' Every time i heard those words I wanted to strangle someone,

But instead I just kept silent & then got drunk.

It was so nice to be called 'You guys' everywhere we went

I wanted to squee & giggle & do little dances with my hands

(And when I'm more secure in my masculinity, I will squee & giggle as much as I want

For now, I'm adjusting my settings that have been so badly tweaked for so many years…

SOooooo….many….yearrrrrrrssss……

Overcompensating a little to find that androgynous middle ground I want to stake out

And inhabit like a hobbit)

I was thrilled, ELATED, at how well my social experiment went. 

I read a lot of blogs about transitioning (both ways) and I know a lot of trans guys still

Get called "she" and "Miss" even after they've started T.

And I know a lot of trans girls still get called "dude in a dress"

And I know how that chips away at one's soul and drives one to drink or do other stuff

(Like stay at home all the time)

I'm feeling much better about dropping back into society these days,

But I know things will not always go well…I'm ready for that…I've made it this far…

********NOW…here is a video of me & my cat reading some poetry together. And when I'm on camera I revert right back to being so FEMME, I want to punch myself in the face! Enjoy…

https://youtu.be/2LLFZVdL1Q4

My Girl, Pearl

Friendliest-of-People,

How are you? I am fine.

Well, I started this blog intending to update you on how it feels to be starting the social transition process, but…

…it is hard to write about transitioning w/out going into things like gender dysphoria, childhood memories, mental gymnastics, suicide attempts, dropping out of society and dropping back in…

…now that I'm "on the path" I don't really want to go into all that stuff again. I've told you all my stories about suicide and gender dysphoria and mental gymnastics. You can go searching for them in this fabulously encyclopedic blog if you care to!

My memories are not to be feared or forgotten, but they are no longer to be combed through for their hidden nuggets. Been there, done that, found the nuggets!!

I just wanted to tell you that today marks my one-year anniversary of being Vin. He came to me last year, a brand new alter, and unlike some of my male alters of the past, I knew he was ME in male form.

And he is happy to be me, and I am happy to be him! That hasn't been the case w/ some of the other male alters & it got pretty ugly at times. 

Also I wanted to say that even though I am not the kind of guy who would limit his wardrobe choices to "only acceptable manly attire", I am choosing to relinquish my entire feminine wardrobe to my mannequin (and good friend) PEARL.

We got Pearl in Dec '12 at Sarasota Architectural Salvage. She used to work at Maas Bros.

Fashion--the versatility of the female wardrobe--was one of the only fun things about being a girl.  I have heard & read that a lot of transguys miss their more ample fashion choices after they transition. I thought I was the only one who would feel that way.

She is "well-armed" with great personality and acting skills

Luckily I have Pearl to act as my fashion ambassador. If I ever miss femme stuff while I'm trying to hone my masculine presentation, I can call on Pearl to model for me. She never says no. You can see she has inspired many photo shoots.

She inspires me in many ways

One thing I will not relinquish is my collection of colorful corduroys (I have every color including chartreuse, peacock and raspberry: ))

I will always wear my cords. They make me think of the 60s and 70s, and somehow I think of those as "better times" than the 2010s. (Even though they weren't : ))

She is a great dance instructor

So…no cords for Pearl…but she's such a girly-girl she'll be thrilled to wear dresses and lingerie every day!

She was our Winter Solstice Mascot one year

We're practically twins. That dashiki she's wearing was purchased in L.A. by Moonchild's mum right around the time of the Manson murders. Also, those are black cats on the red dress above--in case you can't tell.

THE NOTHING KING

So Friends,

Why have I changed my name?

You've known me by many names during our social networking years:

Juliet Frank, Julian Pansy, Jennifer Flowers, Juliet DiCaprio, et al

And if you knew me before the social networks you know I had many names way back then too:

Ed, Cookie, Sharpie, Nirvana, Tasha, Robin & more….

I've always hated the name that was given to me at birth 

Because it's a hyper-feminine disaster of a name that brings to mind

Some kind of douching product.

Google "Jennifer Flowers" and you will find:

A) Lots about the presidential whore named Gennifer Flowers who was

well-acquainted w/ Bill Clinton & is a 6' blond with torpedo tits

B) Lots & lots of Flower Shoppes:

Jenny's Flowers!

Jennifer's Flowers!

Flowers by Jennifer!

You get the picture…

C) strippers & porn stars whose names are probably Karen Jones or Stacey Smith

who wanted a hyper-feminine douche-name like Jennifer Flowers

********And Friends,

It's probably no secret to you

That I'm "gender dysphoric"

That I despise being a female more than I hate having

A lazy eye or being short or having thin, lifeless hair, or bad posture

To me being a female is the utmost deformity & none

Of those other things really matter, even

When you make fun of them.

Being called "she" hurts 

As much as the 'N' word or 'F' word or 'M' word

Can hurt certain people

Mostly I've remained silent about it--what can I do?

I look like a "she" so that's what people will call me

So I just suck it up & respond on cue to the feminine invocations

I've tried & tried to appreciate being female & feel like a goddess

(I DO NOT feel like a goddess)

I know that feeling horror about one's gender

Is something that is HILARIOUS to people who are 'cis'gendered

(cisgendered = you are happy & content w/ the gender you were assigned at birth

due to certain anatomical features)

Despite how hilarious it is to so many people, I've decided

To make a big transition in my life.  The past 6 months

Have been a rollercoaster of questions & emotions & decisions & tears

That I have not dealt with in 40-some-odd years and

Last year I knew I could not keep on not dealing with them.

The first step in this transition was deciding to face it & telling

A few trusted friends

The next step is happening right now--I'm telling you all, The World, the Facebook Empire

This is the "social transition"

The biggest part of the social transition is changing one's name,

And as you can see I'm doing that too!

*************

So Friends,

Here's a little bit about me new name:

Vin J Whitman is a name that I like & can be proud of & live with more comfortably than 'JF'

"Vin" is the name of my newest alter-ego who came to me on 4-24-14

My alter-egos always come with names--I don't really "choose" them

He told me his name was Vin & I said "Like Vin Diesel??"

And he said "Yeah, but not really like that." It is short for Vincent (not Melvin or Alvin or Marvin or Kevin) and it is a family name and all the Vincents just get called Vin anyway so that's what his (my) parents named him.

(I know this bit about the alter-ego is probably more confusing than the rest of this.

Just try to accept it though...)

In Vietnam, Vin is a girl's name.

VIN is a really long number that identifies your vehicle.

Vin is "wine" in French

V.I.N. is even a kind of vaginal cancer--yay!--but I can sort of see the humor in that…

I've even heard of shaven-headed butch lesbians being called 'Vin Diesel dykes'

But I'm good with all that. When my alter ego said he was me in male form & his name was 'Vin'

I just said 'Okay. Cool.'

The 'J' will remain private for now. It's a name that Tony & I decided on

Together, and I just want to keep it between us.

I thought having a 'J' name in the middle would keep it real & familiar

And "Whitman" is a nice strong last name that I chose mainly after Walt Whitman (because

Vin Ginsberg doesn't sound so great : ))

And also after Don Draper (whose real name was Dick Whitman before he stole

A dead soldier's identity)

And after the box of chocolates, which we've all heard is a metaphor for life

"You never know what you're gonna get!"

But if you bite into a cherry cordial & you prefer a salted caramel

You can always spit it out & try again, right??

************

There, Friends

That is a lengthy zoo-exhibit narration of my name. Thank you for reading this far, if you have.

I know a lot of you will not be "on board" with this.

I will always be 'Jenny' to you, and you don't want to have to think of me as

Anything else. That is okay. I know it will take time for people to understand.

Take as long as you need. But when you feel like you can call me 'Vin'

Go ahead. I will appreciate it.

My husband, Tony the Moonface Moonchild, is finally getting used to it

And is calling me that. It took him some time & I was patient.

I can be patient with the world as well.

And if you can't have respect for these changes I'm going through &

You want to laugh at me and be mean-spirited about it, go ahead

I can handle it--I expect it, sadly--I expect crude, juvenile, phallocentric commentary

And I'm willing to put up with it for however long it lasts

But PLEASE PLEASE do have respect for Tony, who has

Stood by me when it was difficult for him to understand & when I have

Been so gender dysphoric I could barely continue living

He is the reason I've stayed & fought & found the courage to become

Who I really am inside, and it has NOT BEEN EASY FOR HIM.

He is a saint. 

So please direct all hatred or scorn my way, not his.

And I will have faith that the hatred & scorn will give way to

Understanding & acceptance in its time.

I'm ready to be alone, abandoned, unfriended by many people.

I even know I'm at risk for physical violence, as all trans people are.

But if Kristin Beck can go through Navy Seal training & deploy to Afghanistan 13 times

And come out to the world as who she is, then I am willing

To get roughed up on American soil to be who I am.

I just hope it doesn't happen : 0

I hope I am pleasantly surprised, and that all my friends (who are mostly in their 40s & 50s)

Are just like "Yeah, okay, I can handle this"

My new name won't be LEGAL til later this year, so you all

Have plenty of time to get used to it on Facebook

And, in case you were wondering, 

There won't be any physical changes until at least next year…

But that is a whole 'nother level of coming out and I won't go there today

I will leave you with the name change to ponder

And I will say THANK YOU again for reading this far

I really do love my friends, I have a hard time connecting with anyone

In this world & I am so thankful to have found Moonface & the few friends

That I have on this planet who are smart, talented, open-minded

Parachute-unicorn-people!!!!

I know I go on like a self-narrating zoo exhibit & you laugh,

But guess what?? I have been watching & listening closely to the world

And you are ALL self-narrating zoo exhibits too,

Yes indeed you are! [The only difference is i write &

You talk]

LOVE and PEACE,

Vin J Whitman

SEE YA IN THE GOTH GARAGE!

Friends…

HERE'S A VIDEO FOR YOU:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OiHIlDn67aE&feature=youtu.be

AND HERE ARE SOME WORDS TO GO WITH IT:

In a world of technically savvy aliens, I lurk like an old shadow barely able to find a patch of light to inhabit.

I am a Techno-rex…a wreck of barely usable footage in this visual scroll of modern life.

In a world that lives on a 3 x 5 rectangle in the palm of everyone's hand, where 11-year-old girls play the 'Comfortably Numb' guitar solo more perfectly than Gilmour ever could,

where weasels ride the backs of woodpeckers and Ellen deGeneres joins them via photoshop, 

where the most beautiful art can be displayed instantly with no gallery submission statement,

where we can watch ISIS gangsters spew hate if we want to,

where we have the right to say what we want and misspell it as badly as our hearts desire….

I am barely clinging on. I hold onto this technological hamster wheel with the tip of my pinky finger and try to participate as best I can with my scant knowledge of (and even scanter interest in) gadgetry.

I've tried to embrace technology --remember the summer of '13??--but it really does bore the crap out of me. It is not like working with a paintbrush, or like just doing something without having to coax the machinery to cooperate with you. It is not warm & friendly…but what is?

I wish I understood what I was doing here in Artificial Intellegencity, but I certainly don't. I still have no interest in recording music on digital multi-track formats. I have no interest in taking photos & then "enhancing them" with hideous special effects & additives that distort the moment I've captured. 

I've even tried to learn iMovie since I've been recording video…but it's like working with a jumpy, inattentive child-clown-thing (like Ted Nugent).

So…here I am…in the 2010s….recording video in one take….holding onto the imperfections & mistakes…forgoing any special (stupid) effects….

I remember in the 00's, my friend & I decided we were going to be Vagrant Poets With Cameras and we went about with a Sony camera, (ie a real point & shoot camera with lens & light-settings, etc…) reading poems in public places & climbing on the sculptures that lined the Bayfront & watching peoples' faces with the camera lens…

Then she went off to have an affair with some married Republican woman in Lakewood Ranch…(not true, but that was her story & she stuck to it)

And I was a Vagrant Poet alone….

Then Moonface joined me and we began to shoot scenes w/ our own little movie stars -- all the stuffed animals I'd collected in my lifetime. It was fun to shoot the footage…but then there was the technology to wrestle with afterward…Moonface did a better job at handling iMovie than I did, but it ate up lots of time & memory & interest drifted elsewhere…

I know this world is only going to get more techno-centric as it moves forward and I know I will not get any more interested in it. But I will do what I can…for as long as I wish to…and when I want to give up, I will give up. It will probably be a big relief too…

Everything keeps getting "simpler" and yet more cluttery, clusterfucky, artificial and counter-intuitive…

At least to a Techno-rex like me.

I wish I could give you the futuristic genius of perfectly edited Vine clippings or dazzlingly perfect art drawn with a stylus on a hard slippery screen…

I wish I didn't love paper & pencils & paintbrushes so much. But I do. I love words and keyboards with keys. I like being in direct 3-D contact with what I'm doing…if that makes sense.

I will one day not be able to communicate with anyone and that scares me a bit, BUT I know I will die in the not-too-distant future & that is comforting….

In the meantime, I sure wish I could figure out how to get more hits on my blog…It's my only way of talking to the world & no one really visits… 

Is it my overuse of the dreaded ellipsis…?????

Turkey To Turquoise; Watercolors To Words

Hi Friendlies,

Here are some Vogon Poetries for you to enjoy on your drunken Saturday. 

I know my poems frighten some people because they are about…PEOPLE. And personhood. But I am not, I swear, writing about any specific person or people in my real life (except on rare occasions, and on those rare occasions, you will know without a doubt if a poem is about you.) And that's not necessarily a bad thing…I write because I am curious, confused, amazed, hurt or heartbroken. Not because I know anything about people that you don't know.

To me, people are just NATURE. Fuck sunsets!! Fuck forests, and waterfalls, and sandhill cranes. PEOPLE are the crazy/complex beautiful/ugly specimens that capture my eye & interest. As dull as we all can be, we are also very fascinating. You included/me included.

So please don't be paranoid & self-conscious (like a flower never would). And if you have any complaints, please send them to my publicist (though she has died. R.I.P. Juliet)

This first poem is actually based on a news story from last October. I entered it in the Rattle 'Poets Respond' contest & it didn't win, surprisingly!

********************

A FRIEND LIKE FREIN

I found a quiet corner

In the club

My girlfriend took the stage

W/ ginger charisma & Telecaster

During tuning

My eye drifted to the silent TV

Hung like a neon cobweb

Over buzzing bartenders’ heads

There he was in handcuffs,

Diapered clown

Village terrorist

Most-wanted idiot

Manhunt Ends in Pennsylvania

The cobweb announced

And I half-expected the clown

To somehow wrest

A homemade grenade

From his shit-stained pocket

But he walked & looked

Like a man & a boy at the same time

(approx. 10 hours ago

when the sun still shone

And I made love

with the one onstage)

Now he’s caught on the 

Tangential screen

And smaller cameras

Snap his image

His lifeless whiteness

Punctuated by a bloody nose

But mostly unharmed

As the Marshals lead him

Through the muted celebration

A town without its clown

Can dance & shout & finally

Fall asleep

From behind I get clunked

On the skull & turn around to see

The Ex Boyfriend

My personal terrorist

And village hipster

Doing his best Frein imitation

Still hoping we’ll be friends--

Fricative, grinning,

Hands-on friends

Cuffing me with

Insults and ego

As seven weeks ago

The cuffs around the killer

Were held 

By his executed trooper

10-31-14

Expressionist watercolor kitty vs. ...

...Impressionist watercolor kitty

************

[NERVOUS] BREAKDOWN DURING [EBOLA] OUTBREAK

I used to count dead soldiers

But those numbers ceased to have

Any value as news

Why do I love counting?

It stops me in my tracks

I count everything from death

To socks &

It makes my brain flicker

But that pituitary lightbulb

Falters on weak filaments

When I'm forced to remember

Peoples' names

The compulsion

To count your eye blinks, your

Undisclosed throbs

My greatest pleasure, gone

Even your nude ministrations

Can't ease the gridlock

Now I count hours,

Days, and words

And there's no nudity, just tears

Gender-neutral tears

Too many to count so I just count

Episodes of sorrow

Sometimes feature-length

Sometimes longer

But never a 30-second spot

Between comedies

My memory for numbers 

Is a dystopia, a dysphoric

Dysfunction

My tear ducts cough instead of

Crying

My heart's close-captioned hoof beats

Are allegedly hard to hear

Yet

I'm told

They're way too loud

I'm told,

"Get over it, man

Everyone is hurting

But you don't see them

Counting & crying

Be a man!

Be happy Jack

Not a harsh Jane"

11-07-14

***********

Phone Number w/ middle names

SURVIVING THANKSGIVING

It mattered this year

That your family is carved like a turkey

Strung-out meat held together

By gamey fibers,

Easily torn…

But your worry was 

For nought

There were no tears for 

Thanksgiving

In the end you held strong

To your side of the wishbone--

With or without the hyoid joint

Your truth was fortuitous

You know how temporary

All families

All turkeys

All wishes are

And you can go on…

Through blizzards & riots

Most of America survived

Its 411th Thanksgiving w/ you

You shared yours w/ "girlfriends"

Like you could have all your life

If you'd been born a girl

You had the kind of holiday

You'll try to repeat every year

From now on…

****** THANKSGIVING PART 2

How to follow turkey talk?

With meatier meteors & particle physics?

Launched convo with too-pretty girl 

Behind counter behind too-thick spectacles

She was too busy brooding 

To notice your 

Nerd-in-plain-sight behind nothing

Landing

Should we flow linguistically

From "turkey" to "turquoise"?

Let's do it.

We had a turquoise refrigerator (& stove)

In my childhood home

Turquoise trim on its

Mid-century modern edges,

Concentric turquoise rhombi on the garage door

Where a black cat 

Was almost squeezed to death

When she didn't run underneath

Fast enough

Turquoise & Black

My favorite color combination

On the spectrum or wheel 

I've read/heard/experienced

The walls in asylums

Painted cool pink

(Baker's pink)

To soothe the screams of

Patients

Please paint mine turquoise

If I ever get that lost

Again….

11-30-14

Phone Number w/ middle names II

Holy crap!! Those were very long. I hope you're still with me. And I hope you enjoy the hideous artworks I've shared with you. I know I am a terrible writer, artist & musician, but those are the things that make me feel more like you & less like me. If ya know what I mean...