After 12 Groceries and Package Take Away at the Window

fig a. performance draft for, Empty Praise and Dry Drunks part1

Up in the corner there's a plastic video camera with a wire that feeds into the drywall behind it. But it stops behind the yellow cigarello display. Underneath the Canadian whiskey there's a video feed playing on a black TV. The tubes make every clear image on it fizzle with the power of electric snow. The feed is from a box set called, Mirror Mirror. It features an unlicensed Wegman still from '72 on it's front. The second disk is behind-the-scenes footage. It's labeled in fat Sharpie, MAKING OF DISC #1.
Mirror Mirror was shot in HiDef and then doctored down in the studio. There are 12 vignettes on disc one but the DVD player can't loop them. Instead it goes through them one at a time, switching between each of the retail settings with an audible click once it's finished. First there's the ubiquitous furniture store, then the uninspired car showroom, and so on. When all of them have played then the machine's logo bounces around on the screen, boop, boop.

MIRROR MIRROR Disc1:
1.) We admit that we are purposeless (13:00)
2.) A purpose greater than ourselves (13:00)
3.) We'll turn our will over (13:00)
4.) We can make a fearless moral inventory (13:00)
5.) Admit our wrongs (13:00)
6.) We're ready for our purpose to remove our defects (13:00)
7.) Ask that our purpose remove our shortcomings (13:00)
8.) Make a list of those we've harmed, and amend these ills (13:00)
9.) Make direct amends wherever possible (13:00)
10.) Continue taking inventory (13:00)
11.) Improve our conscious contact with this purpose (13:00)
12.) Have an awakening as the result of these steps (13:00)

So stop me if you've heard this one. There's a guy that walks into a liquor store, right... It's a cold and rainy night at the end of October. Things are said, things that can't be unsaid. These things will later be reenacted in tight circles and talked about with counselors for years to come. Vigils will be held in neon lit parking lots everywhere and somebody's baby will learn to cry in the streets by candle light. So let's hold the surprise for later. I'll buy the first round and you can tell me all about your sponsor.

Totem

Tonight is old. It's wett but current and bored. I'm watching nothing but stars in the often sky that happen... do... tonight is lame like old, young like song, even as blue... Equal after the sun, noon or scripted yellow you are to me... A we (as sound)

Songlet is Best

fig.0231) FizzGraf MT. "Magical, like a chorus of like minded souls in a froth of cotton fumes." Over fake doors, under refurbished ladders, gypsum board and bent yellow pipes offering us an unmade bed and a stained window. Our one chance at tomorrow. Magnetic guts from at least a thousand cassettes are strewn across the room. Hee-Haw style, fancy dress shoes cling to the floor like it's '86 all over again. Hee-Haw, goes the sound. Hee-Haw, we're closer then we were. Hee-Haw, it's hilarious. Listening for trains, leaning out over the rails like two people with no time at all. Better maps, that's what we need. We could use a melody for singing with this chorus; in whose curious presence more patients wait to be found. With hands over our heads, someone passes by and asks, "gender?" There's stars in this sweet tooth of mine and some atoms left from the sky, Tonight the whole angle of heaven sleeps without light. Ordering its coffee darkest, t

Whiskers, chanting, "swap me, swap me!"

Fig.32) Aging poorly We're just together, taking ourselves for a tidy sum of walk and now our toes are wet and cool in the Lak, beside a cool stone that could drive a modernist to their flint. There's a listening experience that feels prepared, "our's for now, ours it says! Here's the hammer and it's wrapped in its own design already. A union in time-space, this card is our greetings, our massive, our very patience is reflected in this resolve." Suddenly, there's a cut away and she's wearing the pants that I've made for her, slow blue like painted smoke . I'm thinking about her hunched over the kitchen table, something that's stuck. There's a carving knife in her hand but from here, it's the same as an old spoon. From here my computer is sitting on my guilty seat, I'm thinking about champagne and comparing it to a thick wad bees and wondering whats in it for me? It's an anxious season, filled with not enough of anythin

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