My brother and I. What was your hair like back then? Grinning and drawing our versions of Michael Keaton and Jack's Batman comic books. Misspelling "boom" "bom." In all fairness, guns do not go "boom boom boom boom." The sound is more like "bom bom bom bom." When we finished we swapped pages to see what our batmen were going to do next in our pulp comic books and laughed and awed and exchanged notes. Remember when we used to draw our own pornography too? There was an afternoon playing with lyrics and writing songs and our ROJA club. The roaches of joes apartment. No girls allowed. We had business cards and held official meetings. No sisters allowed either. We had gun fights with folded paper. There was a rap song whose headline was about making lemonade and the best ways to do it. It was our theme song and at the very end, recorded on a yakbak was the closer: "Don't waste time / standing in a line. Come right over / to our bank!" And an illustration of a pile of money in front of a teller's window. That bank would not stay afloat for long. Everyone likes free money. The riots! The world is not take a penny
leave a penny.
With great aspirations and the best of intentions. As laid down by ROJA standards and reinforced honor super omnia, we set forth. Wind at our backs, my brother and I. What was your smile like back then? What would your Timothy Burton batman comic book look like today. This instant. The sound is more like the sound an iron rod makes when struck against brick. Like a staple gun on steroids with a penchant for burning matches.
original works of parts
How I've Imagined Myself With You Through the Years
I am sitting
and you are petting my hair
to let me know the war is over
(arrows light out
off target
toward our position,
my ax ready)
and while you pet my locks
and shards of metal there
you say
"Not yet"
and feel my scalp tighten
while I grin.
Your fingers dig in
to my dreads
and scrape against my skull
to let me know you are grinning too.
I laugh and you wince
about what I will have to do
because of your touch
and the two of us
on the cusp of glory
that will still have to be earned.
Already missing you,
but you'll clean up with
your broadsword.
There's nothing two titans cannot do.
Against an army? You and whose?
Petting my hair and my self
looking up at you-
there is nothing we cannot do.
The arrows fall where we were.
"Sic-em."
and you are petting my hair
to let me know the war is over
(arrows light out
off target
toward our position,
my ax ready)
and while you pet my locks
and shards of metal there
you say
"Not yet"
and feel my scalp tighten
while I grin.
Your fingers dig in
to my dreads
and scrape against my skull
to let me know you are grinning too.
I laugh and you wince
about what I will have to do
because of your touch
and the two of us
on the cusp of glory
that will still have to be earned.
Already missing you,
but you'll clean up with
your broadsword.
There's nothing two titans cannot do.
Against an army? You and whose?
Petting my hair and my self
looking up at you-
there is nothing we cannot do.
The arrows fall where we were.
"Sic-em."
Hate Tank
Keep back 300 meters.
Yes, meters.
Parade float.
Confetti cannons blazing.
Free hugs and lollipops and sundaes
if you ask nicely.
Toys for guns
out back.
With a thirteen thousand dollar donation
you too can have control of Sol 278 &
vaporize anything on the face of the planet
once he is aligned with your selected target.
Complete demolition not guaranteed.
Target size must be less than two inches by two.
Objects in screen may not be synced real time.
Margin of error is two feet in either direction.
No refunds upon purchase.
You may not destroy your selected coordinates
however you will be graced with a live feed
of the general vicinity to see the effect
your selection and your donation to Sol 278's
upkeep makes to make your world
a little better.
Keep back 300 meters.
Yes, meters.
Parade float.
Confetti cannons blazing.
Free hugs and lollipops and sundaes
if you ask nicely.
Sol's been operating for several years.
It is hit and miss.
For 13 billion dollars
you can vaporize anything
down to the size of a golf ball
and the other two hundred yards around it.
"For the low price..." everyone remembers
the old commercials.
That thing was a flashlight
by comparison.
Sol X0X0 is where it's at.
Confetti,
free hugs,
lollipops,
and sherbet.
Money to burn? Pick up a pint
and spend, spend, spend, spend!
Yes, meters.
Parade float.
Confetti cannons blazing.
Free hugs and lollipops and sundaes
if you ask nicely.
Toys for guns
out back.
With a thirteen thousand dollar donation
you too can have control of Sol 278 &
vaporize anything on the face of the planet
once he is aligned with your selected target.
Complete demolition not guaranteed.
Target size must be less than two inches by two.
Objects in screen may not be synced real time.
Margin of error is two feet in either direction.
No refunds upon purchase.
You may not destroy your selected coordinates
however you will be graced with a live feed
of the general vicinity to see the effect
your selection and your donation to Sol 278's
upkeep makes to make your world
a little better.
Keep back 300 meters.
Yes, meters.
Parade float.
Confetti cannons blazing.
Free hugs and lollipops and sundaes
if you ask nicely.
Sol's been operating for several years.
It is hit and miss.
For 13 billion dollars
you can vaporize anything
down to the size of a golf ball
and the other two hundred yards around it.
"For the low price..." everyone remembers
the old commercials.
That thing was a flashlight
by comparison.
Sol X0X0 is where it's at.
Confetti,
free hugs,
lollipops,
and sherbet.
Money to burn? Pick up a pint
and spend, spend, spend, spend!
Warm December
Every other shot fell through the net
like the rim had cooties.
Every strike to bike pedal sung
like the brakes had Spring time behind their backs.
The sun still set early.
The street lights still lit on cue.
In this Winter come
I am reminded I am around the corner.
Fire pit perfumed and snow baited
Spring weighted
I am still the Winter you.
like the rim had cooties.
Every strike to bike pedal sung
like the brakes had Spring time behind their backs.
The sun still set early.
The street lights still lit on cue.
In this Winter come
I am reminded I am around the corner.
Fire pit perfumed and snow baited
Spring weighted
I am still the Winter you.
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