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Showing posts from March, 2017

When Our Architects Dream of Sweaty Slumber

fig. 3) waiting for love When roses match (T he rabbits burn and others won't make sexual overtures involving soda cans and candid smiles When roses are red and they're soft and as real as the money money in the house with the turn turn turn) Then roses same as day December is like August and the humble Republican disrobes. The Democrat watches, blushing, "Did the tattoo hurt?" "Only if you really like Ayn Rand," he says dropping the suggestively long belt beside the big oval bed. "Well then it's a good thing that the President just signed an executive order undermining the long term security of your personal information on the Federal level while the Governor is busy eradicating it's immediate safety on the State level." "Why so," the Republican asks, slipping out of his wet leather slippers. "Small talk, I'm nervous I guess," the Democrat liked his chances better back at the piano bar. "Privacy I

The City Wasn't Planned, It was Delivered

fig. 92) dirt, not soft college boys The stage is very cold, the door outside slaps shut again as a stage hand, with a length of chain and some pliers walks in tighter circles.  Carmen's forehead is red, it's like she's been shopping but the kids won't shut up.  "The angels don't supplicate themselves and they will not bounce," the vastness of theatre is only alluded to by the extent of its sounds bouncing around in the dark.  "Lincoln was shot but no one bounced. Corn has been served and no one bounces. Let's stop being such a dick limpers and just get on with it." "Well, I think the way you sing is nice. Maybe if you put on a bright coat and pin your hair up," no one see's past the front row. All they ever see is feet, his are like dancers up on the top of some knobby gold upholstering. The smell of tobacco here is rank. It's thick as old tar can get.  "Others may wade slurries of rape towards an empty box like th

Ayn Rand loves a good architect joke

fig. 239) The kitchen, the bath, and all of the people hate your painting too.  "Mike, Mike do something." From somewhere far off an alarm, a klaxxon and several bells can be heard bouncing around. The big firehouse was constructed in the teens. A mule team and 6 drunk ignorants voted to do the job right but it still took three bricklayers a month apiece to even try. Finally after a couple of years they finished up and then the market crashed, "The masons never explain anything." "No they never do." "What," John Lurie is eating his own ghost again. There's some confusion and the waiter returns. CB and MB are next to him. They're talking about the kids when they look and see the smoke. Of course the server arrives with water. He's confused too, "Lemons?" CB say's, "Mike, Mike do something now." The kitchen is hot. The swinging door lets out great white puffs along with the occasional yelp from a frus

Savages By Noon

figure eleven) Open thy doors, O Lebanon, that the fire may devour thy cedars.  Like this, the distance to the hills is as flat as a cosmic whale opening itself to water, the cupboard, and a tin of beans. So see it this way but over there isn't going anywhere soon either. The days won't run as long as they should. Then some of its hours will fly right by. I've been waiting for the same dance after dinner for decades, bowl in hand. Here, hold this.  Now's the time for a proper clean up. Not so much as a peep, now it's for real. The UmperKunst and all of the little stone holes that bravely steward the line against the slippery edge of the darkness that's beyond the gathering veil. Where its hypocrisy is an endorsement from the rasping choir that is gathered around this pile of penises like it's a man ready for a drive. So many of us have been silent for so long. These are the people's resources, the tools of its culture and they should be pers

X marks the rhythm of the night

fig. dot) mini "Altogether there has to be at least four of them at the edge of the world of ideas," Edmund would say this and then pour himself another drink. You know he was an excellent haberdasher but Edmund's money, nearly all of it was borrowed. Mostly it came from people who were short, young, or gullible. In all fairness he would ask nicely and smile, using his best comma and a curly thing too." "You're mad Esther." "No, Edmund was very wealthy, even for a Superhero-Man that didn't work. Then he died but before that he was really tall and very thin. He also had a high forehead and three piercing blue eyes. I've read that he liked his houses like he liked his women, Queen Anne. This old house on top of this hill was built about 118 years before he died, still Queen Anne." Sloan appears in the open door, "Did you get cigarettes yesterday?" "Exchange," she said, "at least as you're picturing it, s