the things IV (water mixable oil and acrylic on canvas)

everything that is 

singing is singing

i've growed an arm

it's hairy and comes 

out of me at an angle

that's odd at first but 

then seems to make 

sense

4 skulls (acrylic paint on 4 wood boards)

winter has only begun

and already i look

forward to the spring

the beat is so heavy

my bones are breaking

it is heavier than heaven

still i refuse to dance

the band is onstage playing

but i am in my bed

waiting for death to find me

alone and unharmed

our love is so new

yet i stand underneath

the onion trees singing

sad songs about the sea

your kisses swim along

the shore of my mouth

and already I'm looking off

into the deep blue

the back of my face

is filled with words

each sentence a two by four

i'm building a fortress (not a home)

i have been doing the math

and i have a terrible feeling

nothing is adding up as

nicely as i'd hoped it would

winter has only begun

and already i look

forward to the spring

the things II (acrylic on board)

Planet of death

in a place beyond 

the end of the world

under the black 

ceiling of the hotel

i fell through my life

listening to the

air conditioner

(the slow motion of it)

an aloe ocean 

the lion sinking it's teeth

into the young gazelle

the smell of the sea

later at the pizza-rama

my dreams unrecognizable

i clawed my way through the

hearts like lawn chairs

skull (water miscible oil on wood panel)

what would happen

if i became fish

in your eyes

would i swim in the sea?

if i became ghost

in your arms

would i always be alone?

if i become steam in your kiss

would i become a rumor of bliss

forever dreaming?

if i became cloud in your mouth

out in the blue

hanging over you

while you were sleeping

and i was sleeping too

dreaming

the way dreamers do

would i be shipwrecked

and broken

and even early on

would i be able to tell

how it would end?

thriller (acrylic on wood and christmas tree lights)

thriller

Michael Jackson

Laying the brown gun

On the pillow

Next to the young

Cancer survivor

The tiger

Screaming

In his back yard

Made me uneasy

Imagining what

Was going on in

Never land

Now that he's in ever ever land

With its blank walls

And inverted streets

Jesus jamming its fist

Into your heart

The whole

Room filled with

The fury of god

I can relax

And enjoy the sweet jams

I wanna rock wit you

All night

the things (acrylic and graphite on wood board)

hitleresque

in the building where they were

filming the luxury car commercial

and

inside the spokes

of your goodbye

and

under the words expressing

exactly this feeling of helpless despair

and

when i looked between her

thighs and saw she weren't no lady

and

out beyond what was left

of downtown detroit

and

when you told me what

happened on your trip to spain

and

when i found someone

else's toothbrush in your apartment

and

when i asked for an explanation

and knew before you even said a word

it was adolf hitler

even though at one point in our conversation

you had reffered to it as hope

it was only adolf hitler

as the sun was clearing the grey

outline of downtown brooklyn

the wrestlers smokes a stogie (graphite on watercolor paper)

el hombre del sombrero

a man wearing a hat walks by

drowning inside himself

the sea filled with monsters

a man walks by carrying the sun as it explodes

everything in the universe

once fit inside god's hat

a man walks by a bird encircling a tree

michael jackson sequined

fingering the brim of his black hat

a man walks by the end of the earth

he calls later and tells me he

saw this poem wearing his hat

the catholic girl (rapidograph on illustration board)

100 colones

tecate and dope

and hepatitis B

far from the water

and close to the sea

needles in the pie

babies in the bowl

where we once was

we wasn't no mo'

a little round neck

covered in skin

and spiderlegs

a real mexican

close to the ground

and far from the truth

with her legs in the air

like a telephone booth

oral rob I (record covers, foam board, acrylic paint and glue on wood)

Lake Placid

Though we are lost and without hope

i fall asleep almost instantly

when I wake from this dream I will destroy everything

There at the edge of the world

The German rappers won't stop rapping

when I wake from this dream I will destroy everything

Setting the baby back on the stove

The high divers vomit into the sink

when I wake from this dream I will destroy everything

oral rob III (record covers, foam board, glue, acrylic paint on plywood)

pete townsend*

when you kill it

the song's egg hatches

in their hearts

(*)

when you kill it

the wolf passes you by

on the dark road

(*)

when you kill it

jesus picks you up and takes you out

for a romantic dinner

(*)

when you kill it

amy grant drops the charges

and you're free to go

(*)

*something bad will happen soon

tennessee ernie ford (mixed media collage on wood board)

where i live now

the end came

(not unexpectedly)

we'd seen it coming for years

the dark circles under her eyes

her insistence on drinking only

wine coolers

the pig veins

folding out of her eyes

babies falling down the well

of her head

bruising the gasoline into her

skin

i lived in the fanciest

part of town then

glass airplanes would fly so low

you could see everything

the endless 

bottomlessness

glass apes 

would feed on her brokenness

their crystal skin

revealing monkey bones

covered in candles

like diamond stores

your plans of leaving 

without me never materialized

these lost things

idle threats

i was trapped in the car

with everyone

the drive 

to restoration hardware

seemed endless

we made so much money 

that year

we all bought slaves

why in gods name 

is this still 

happening 

to me

please. for god's sake

make it stop

superhero (rapidograph on illustration board)

reasons for rules

1. your mom won't die when you're thirteen

2. the sky will fill with blue feathers. they will fall on your shoulders and lift you into heaven where bruce lee will speak perfect english, because it'll be thought language and you will never have to shit your pants again.

3. your white jeans (you bleached them white and now they are without hope) won't rip away at the party so that you have to walk around all night explaining what happened getting drunker and drunker and finally going home with the black girl and fucking her in your roommates bed while he's at the bar and then having him check you up against the wall the next day, screaming into your face, "did you fuck ____ in my bed?" and you lying, saying, "no, we just made out"

4. because moths, sans self-love, seek the light outside themselves and are consumed by it

5. the dead body behind your mouth will suddenly come back to life.

6. you won't remember a thing, but the little that you do remember will be awful

7. the house will finally get repainted

8.. your fingernails on the bathroom floor will be covered in blood, but at least it will be someone else's

9. the small wax statue of the bhuda will fly past your head and through the yellow light of the alley behind the baxter building

10. you won't be there lying in the bushes. the sound of ten feet running by and then stopping in the middle of the street. you won't be lying in the grass, trying not to breathe. your friend there in the darkness with you. you won't hear someone ask, "where did those motherfuckers go", or the sound of their sneakered feet dying off in the distance while you lay there for at least 20 minutes not moving and not saying a word and finally creeping back to your friends house praying to god you don't run into those sociopaths again that night but then seeing them at school and nobody saying a word and acting like the whole thing never happened.

11. your wife won't gamble away your nest egg and then refinance the house one week when you're away and then also lose that money over the course of two months. falling down into the darkness. crying and asking for your forgiveness as you realize everything is gone and there's no way you're going to get it back and you walk out and feel as free as you've felt in years.

12. the earth won't be destroyed by a meteor

13. the earth will be destroyed by a meteor but only after you escape in a gigantic space ship that is way nicer than the earth, but even lonelier

14. then everyone, lacking faith, will be banished to hell to be consumed by fire and suffer for all eternity, because in the few milliseconds that they were alive, here, without a clue, without hope, they didn't quite get it right. and it makes perfect sense that god is a judgmental psychopath with balls that smells like the ocean and tits bigger than ferris wheels

15. then the oil and fat will fall through you and out and into the bowl and float on the water like a dream. an orange dream. the orange dream of being skinny again.

16. then everything will be OK

the candidate (mixed media, ink pen and watercolor on watercolor paper)

falling towards the farthest star

something happened

while the birds were away

some dreamers woke up

and said

come with us

and we'll show you

how the sun

works

then

large squares

appeared in the sky

allowing angels

to fall into the 

oncoming traffic

then 

running the blade

across the floor 

of the tall building with

the lights turned off (or shot out)

i wore the glenn campbell mask 

and there alone on the earth

began to look into the black

face of the universe

likelihood (collage, inkpen and watercolor on illustration board)

i have many penis

and the worst news is

they will enter your mouth

like a carnival in tennessee

at night while you are sleeping

you wake up and your kids are gone

they've drowned in the swimming pool

no, they're just out playing in the street

naked and unwatchable

and the good news is

they will show up in your ass

like a lunar eclipse after the rain

everyone in the neighborhood watching

so many fingers in the frosting

a wet flag on an electric fence

setting up an urban neighborhood

later the gentrification process so complete

a midnight stroll isn't out of the question

a store that sells eco-friendly lightbulbs

and the best news of all is

they will knock on the door 

of your pussy full of promise

a new president wearing the world

the legs of an eastern ballerina

covered in question marks demanding answers

a crown of soft wet diamonds proclaiming

there are no niggers in denmark

the adult daughter climbing a red 

mountain of desire, determined, 

dusty and finally awake

the frontrunner (photo collage with inkpen on watercolor paper)

my friend's funeral

all the bees are

flying due north

out of your body into

the yellow black smoke

into the sun burning the world

oily and alive

full of hot dry gold

as hard as eskimo

a child's smile

the world's darkest skin

you were left in the forest

alone inside the blanket

an ink bath beside

a black gorilla

and then you were

falling from the earth

into  the world of vinyl

the philadelphia experience

seven feet below you

the brown building

your left uppercut

opened up on the table

where the blood was

beside the wolf head

i need a miracle

8 weeks of a slow 

steady blunt hammer

coming down from

god to take you home

the coffin door opens

the tv's grey hum

the teeth of victory

scattered at the feet

of the couch by the bong

the maybeline manora

feet barely touching

the ground above

the field where the crowd

watches wide eyed

kevin costner's hair

the sky opening up

it's arms and picking you

off the earth jumping into 

heaven to lick its face

the hanger (inkpen and watercolor on watercolor block)

the gift horse

it arrived under the curtain

aside the crouton table

inside the old cottage

that i had forgotten about

and you couldn't find your

hands with a knife

on top of the building

there was blood everywhere

a wild leopard print 

covered most of iowa

universities snatching

kids from school buses

i was knitting a sweater

of soft horse hair

alone in the black barn

stroking back the flies

into the mouth of

old saint nick asleep

at the kitchen table

a thin trail of urine

running out 

from under him

inside his icy BBQ

dream house