Monday, November 22, 2010

adam vs the snake (color pencil, watercolor on watercolor paper on illustration board)

you watched the world grow over me

you watched the world grow over me
a loose tooth
the haitian girl
the two week stint at wendy's
coming home one sunday and
finding you had left
with everything in the house
except my clothes
and a note that said
i had never really loved you
which might have been true
i was relieved that you
were gone,
i had nowhere to sit but
i did have a good story to tell

you watched the world grow over me
standing on the drag
and watching aliens saunter
down the sidewalk
having put the window pane
in my mouth with my finger and
the AIDS test at the clinic
and the two week wait and
the call from the AIDS study group
that turned out to be a wrong number
and the giddy relief on the ride home
three days later

you watched the world grow over me
watching your light in the building
across from mine at night
for at least a year and
imagining your lovers

you watched the world grow over me
waking up outside the 7-eleven
at six in the morning. the sun coming up
on the ground, wet and swollen

you watched the world grow over me
as i watched slowpoke do wheelies
on the front lawn of his girlfriends house
having woken up in her roomates bed
drinking untold cases of milwaukees best
and laughing and peeing and sitting
and being and swimming in the apt pool
across the street and imagining vampires
living next door
and going to los angeles
and not getting killed by the mafia dudes
and ending up in rehab
and losing my best friend for years
and becoming so busy
and buying so many things
and only waking up every once in a while

you watched the world grow over me
driving your car up the embankment
of the highway in front of the police car
while i sat on the beach in mexico
watching strange monkeys dance in
halo of the ocean
believing in myself
and then not believing in myself
and then believing in you
and then not believing in anything
and then my son being ripped out
of my wife's belly, bloody and screaming
and my heart being torn from my chest
forever leaving nothing there except sadness
mostly and love that can't remain
but burns and then leaves more sadness
and watching the black emptiness
underneath inside me with detached
and utter horror as i am
holding my son's hand
crossing the street
and entering target

Friday, November 19, 2010

the sprinter (watercolor and colored pencil on watercolor paper mounted on wood)

25 years late

She smokes a fat
Cigar standing on
The graves of the
German soldiers

She looks triumphant
The clouds are dreaming
Of Brussels where the
Skies are made of grey

A baby skull sits on
The ground at her feet
A memento mori
A tiny sadness

Thursday, November 18, 2010

that sweet feeling (ink pen on foamboard)

Nothing rhymes with nothing

She's trying to get
Two dicks into her mouth
(the mouth of an indian)
at the same time but

With the sky so full of raven
Her ass is bleeding and
The camera is rolling when
The girl on the couch tells me

She'll be going to university
When she gets out of high school
Her tits are incredible
The room is filled with gold now

I sing this song in German
About a black horse
That flies through the air
Its wings ablaze. a horse

Raised by wolves
And stolen by jackals
Coals burn in its eyes
While the fire crackles
kaiza (intaglio copper plate etching on paper)

Wednesday, November 3, 2010


you were vampire and
your vampire ears
heard me driving
to cleveland at 3am bone white

an alien in my bed
these bullets loading
a glock 45 GAP
"it'll stop anything in it's path"

your white arm covered
skin had me climbing a
stack of dead bodies
holding an axe above my fist

a viking hat on my head
tears running down
my beard like blood
holding the gun into my mouth