“In 15 Years We’ll Be 40 Scotty”

my friend Mezzy said to me in dire tones
one afternoon last week
and it scared me too
no one wants to get old

But technically speaking now
literally temporally chronologically
that afternoon was 40 years ago
and 15 years from today
in just one more blink
we’ll be 80


People Are Smart

is something only salesmen and politicians say
and then only in public

Because once back home or off camera
even they know we’re a petty greedy vicious pernicious
ruthless heartless inconsiderate amoral race of gullible
short-sighted narcissistic self-destructive boneheads
with only flashes of brilliance and kindness
escaping our suffocating madness
every now and then


No Matter Who We Become

what we look like or how old we get
we’re always somewhere around
25 on the inside


April June September November

February 28/29


Girls Are Like

“Wanna paint my fence?” And we go

And then we get a fence to paint and we’re like
“What just happened?”


There Are A Million Ways To Live In This World

so you don’t have to twist yourself into
someone you don’t recognize
trying to be someone you don’t wanna be


Ollois (“Uhll-Wah”) Is Vegan

Boiron (“bwa-rohn”) is not


There Is No Kay In “Etcetera”


There’s No Such Thing As “Very” Unique


It’s Pronounced “Neesh”


If I Start Apologizing Now

I might be done in a lifetime or two


Although Girlfriends Have Cheated On Me

it was painful and humiliating
I don’t in retrospect hold that against them

They were only looking for a better mate than me
It was almost nothing personal


There Is No Single Cause

resolution or reason for anything


We Are Each Our Own Unique Brand

of stark raving sane


We Dream To Rewrite

what we cannot forget


I Did Consider Calling Back

to see if they’d let me pay over time
but anything I’d say would just trigger a script:

“No problem! Buy our entry level!
On sale today for 10% off!
Everything must go!”

“Are you still there mister?
One time only! Whaddaya say?”


We Are The People

our ancestors warned us about


5g Is Fucking Us Up

as if we’re in some genetic microwave
and not just all of us but all of life

From bacteria, viruses & microbes
to seawater, grasses, crops & trees
through insects, whales, gorillas & elephants
we are the 6th extinction

Better close your eyes & ears
and hum a happy tune
you’re not gonna like what happens next


Poems Are Only Fingers

pointing at the moon


You Can’t Cry Enough To Change The Past

if you could we’d all have different memories by now


Whatever Wherever Or Whomever

I ever thought I’d be at this stage of life
this is not it


There Are No Happy Endings

only happy pauses


Et Tu Baked Potatoes?

We watched some videos last night
about baked potatoes
Greger says don’t eat the skins because of acrylamides

Please tell us you’re kidding


objects concepts events

The objects in the vials, the assemblages (french term; “ahsem/blahj”, silent “es”), are usually self explanatory; a leaf, a twig, some lake water, sandpaper, food scraps, cotton, building materials … representing everyday objects we use and find, small traces of our daily lives. I place them in glass and sometimes in saline as a framing device so we can appreciate them, however humble, for their formal & conceptual beauties.

The contents of the vial below are tissue paper that was wrapped around some throat lozenges, and saline solution. I peeled the liner paper away, placed it in a vial and when it seemed a little too inert, i added the saline. Especially with the little air bubbles (zoom), it became other-worldly beautiful … at least to me.

Liner Tissue In Saline, 2019 Winter

Names for vials that appear “empty” (below), containing both the air and microscopic residue from a particular moment in time, refer to ideas and events that occur mainly, though not always, during the days or date the vials are open. These vials, sealed with molecular remnants inside them, are titled conceptually the way any painting, sculpture, song or story would be. I then tag them with the season and year for context.

We Are The People Our Ancestors Warned Us About, 2019 Winter

Behind and beyond these titles there is also the movement of time; how it ripples, echoes, changes, freezes and reflects aspects of our shared & fleeting temporal existence. Like any abstraction, the objects in and titles of these vials can literally and sometimes dramatically shift with the passing of days, months and years. We assume the past is “dead” but it’s interesting to watch how our perception of it changes through the futures.

Note To My Ghost

before you sign the next contract
remember the only way to win at tic tac toe
global thermonuclear war
relationships love and life itself
is not to play


Hey Hollywood

please stop brushing the hair and
washing the faces of actors
supposedly in hellish circumstances

Ravaged by heartache trauma time or the elements
hurled across landscapes by sand water wind & fire
thrown out of planes trains cars boats busses
washed up onto shores after explosions & hurricanes
dodging punches & bullets in battlefields alleys streets & saloons

Most of us look like shit in the mornings
so groggy we can barely form sentences
remember who’s sleeping beside us
even if we’re married to them or
drag ourselves out of bed

There’s no hair & makeup
in real life


It’s Both Spelled And Pronounced Nuclear

Without The Early Few

to have called them gifted
so many of my artistic heroes
some of whom have changed the world

Might have been scrawling & writing & drawing
assembling & painting in basements
performing & singing in showers forever unnoticed

While frustrated spouses & children
cousins & friends begged them to wake the fuck up
and find something useful to do with their lives


Every Present Moment

is our own living past


Everything Changes Imperceptibly

until nothing seems familiar


If Violence Was Food

we would have no word for hunger


Even In Dreams After So Many Years

it still hurts when she ignores me


Adults So Often Marvel

at the bright & boundless energy of toddlers
but confine them to a cubicle for a year & a half
dodging a petty officious superior

Raise their insurance premiums a couple of times
and tell them their sweetheart
loves a more attractive 6-year old

They’ll be as anxious & exhausted
by 430 in the afternoons
as the rest of us


We Hired Gods

but they were heartless
we made our own
they went berserk