Hat Trick

Curtains and tights.

Doves and canes.
Caps, cufflinks, gloves,
shining.
We were that joke about
the truck, who turned into
a cornfield.
                                                  HEY ravens! HEY crows! these stalks aren’t for ignoring.

Pendants and saws.
Repurposed coffins.
Lights so bright or
none at all.

                                                  (crystal, but with a joke about balls. A twitch and a wink)

Capes, capes, capes.
This knife can cut through an
ordinary leather sofa in
ten minutes. Think what
the whole set could do.
These shoes were the finest
taps in all the land, we
can be your cobbler.
Keep in mind, we used to
be people who used to be
a truck.
                                                      HEY! Rally, motorcycles! HEY!
                                                      Rally, flamethrowers! Rally, chrome-                                                                                                                    winged-donkeys.
it is so unfair that these
things repeat themselves.
Nonetheless, we were velvet curtains,
waxed goatee, blazer. Twirling
a rabbit on our finger, blowing
a kiss in sparkling blue pastel,
what they wanted to see,
harsh realities not withstanding.

                                                (this knife cuts through cob)
                                                                                           WHEELWHEELWHEEL!

new writing project:

I'm trying my fingers at Nanowrimo.

So far I have half a page. If this is the pace I keep up, I will have a long short story by the end of the month, about a guy with a toothache who lives in the second tallest apartment building in the world that has a window in the bathroom but its okay because the building is so tall, but his head hurts and he is waiting to die.


don't everyone jump up to publish at once.

It won't be what you want it to be, oh no.

Four things, relevant:
1. That tooth, you know? That tooth?
The one. The wisdom tooth that has been on and off hurting like a motherfucking fuckass hellacious shitcuntfuckfuck for about a god-diddly-damn year, yesterday I went to the dentist I have the poem about and he yanked that horrible, rotted-out pseudo-tooth out of there.
Dr. Jones knew where Swansea was and what division their football team was and the dental assistant was cute with and without her mask and told me good luck with the writing. And now I don't have a toothache.

I do, however, need a root canal on the one right next to it.

Dear Money: I take back what I said. Let me hold you next to me. I love you. I need you.

2.
Tonight and tommorrow, two volunteer shifts at Hugo House. The first one has free food and booze for volunteers, the second lets me sit and read and shelve zines for four hours.

3.
We've gotten far enough on the Lights of Christmas that me taking a day off to attend to things like teeth and writing and going to Seattle is not a problem. Come November we'll be busy again, but right now we've got five people on two-person jobs.

4.
Visiting Grandma gets more difficult as it becomes more necessary.