The Happiest Moment of my Life (ink, paper, glue, acrylic paint and resin)

under your feet

i ain’t no spider

laying in a grave

waiting for the cancer

to come and clear my plate

i ain’t no liar

all filled up with gold

trying out all my answer

on anyone who will listen

i ain’t no real chemist

i just make stuff that tastes great

and puts the pants on the monkey

when no one else will

i ain’t no harlequin romance novel

i'm a real nancy drew cryer

all the time

ask my girlfriend. she’ll tell you it’s true

i ain’t no back alley deal

that you made with the italian

that didn’t turn out as badly, i guess

as it could have

i ain’t no mouse in your mouth

while you try to say your name 

to the police officer

standing beside your car

i ain’t the dish filled with bacon

ready to be enjoyed

your heart in a glass

by the stove

i am the face of the grey horizon

the receding hairline of the city

breaking under the weight of heaven

open your eyes

open your eyes

open your eyes

FIGHT (acrylic paint, foil stars, paper, ink and glue on wood)

among the living

I don't usually tackle the big heavy 

statements like, "an old man should 

never phone too deeply into a pole"

my brain isn't smart enough 

at this point to carry the weight 

of such a profound statement 

so instead I write things like

i see a small black bird

every time you smile at me

and then go

walking around

not barefoot

The Bearded Giant (acrylic, paper, ink, glue on wood)

black batman

he wore the fur lined cape 

of the black bat man

into the disco 

the music so loud 

it made a perfect circle

down on the dance floor

he moved through the crowd 

like liquid snow

steam coming off his cheeks

he shook hands 

with the bartender

the black hands of desire

the place would burn to the ground

less than three weeks later

killing most of them

but tonight wasn’t made for that sort of thing

tonight wasn’t made for worrying

about a future that would never arrive

tonight was made for michelob

and benson and hedges

and hand jobs in the black

back part of the club and

whatever else the world

had to throw into our way

Phillipe (acrylic, paper, ink, glue on canvas)

writing a fantastic poem at the airport 

on your phone while waiting for your life

to be over

is not an easy thing to do

well it's really not that hard either i guess

the results vary

there's a guy on tv in a grey t-shirt 

and a baseball cap 

facing backwards

he has a beard

i assume he's a full grown man 

only posing as a small child

the ‘newscasters’ are discussing

the death of a comedienne who passed away 

unexpectedly last week

all of these people are sitting in front of microphones

they must have important things to say

i can only imagine

what am i missing

so much 'news'

all over the world

crazy shit. 

my friend tells me about a boy 

holding a severed head

he saw in the news recently

i see the boy quite clearly in my mind

he is dressed like amal from the christmas play

he has a karate kid style bandana

he's a cute kid who you'd normally see playing baseball or video games

sort of a brunette version of my own son

he’s got a gun strapped to his back

he's covered in dust and grime

he’s finally getting the attention he deserves from these lunatics 

he seems to be surrounded by

the body of the dead man unburied nearby

the corpse's flaccid penis clearly visible

but who is this dead guy?

no idea. some dude. if it was the head of the comediane

i guess the whole country would be more concerned

but it’s not. just some middle eastern looking stranger

a ghost. a prop. no one to concern myself with

here in this airport surrounded by animals

The Killer (paper, ink, glue, acrylic on canvas)

things to do:

1. start a plastics company in brazil

2. find a spot nearby and lay in the sun for a while

3. talk to a scientist about snow and other weather phenomena

4. develop a canadian christmas band

5. eat the fruit of the mango or pineapple while sitting across tables from men of power and exquisite taste

6. lie in an old grave while shaving

7. pee like the batman

8. grow misty-eyed looking out over the great grey fields of western texas

9. really finally get started on learning how to do a great ‘deaf guy’ impression

10. when swearing the oath, tell nothing but lies lies lies

11. drive around the neighborhood in the middle of the afternoon wondering what these people are like that live in these houses. what are their lives like? what do they do when they’re alone?

12. be young and then grow old

13. warm up the ham that’s in the fridge and serve it to a blind cat

14. buy more gold

Khrushchev (acrylic, paper, glue, wood on canvas)

oh, the things i would do

i would sing her a lullaby

in the trees at night by my house

the wolves circling hungrily below

i would make her omelets

in the kitchen while she bathed 

in the pool in the back yard

i would call her to madrid

eventually knowing the end

was just around the corner

i would build her a sunday

one saturday afternoon

the cherries covering the floor

i would let her know

what i was feeling

years after she had left

on her answering machine

the drink in my hand

falling into the carpet

3155 (paper, acrylic, glue, ink and wood)

groucho marx

i finally made it back to earth

i’d been sleeping in your hair

my heart filled with roses

my legs folded under the table

scribbling down the loose

thoughts gathered at the corners

of my face

a twig sticking out of my ear

digging deeper i found a nest

and a bowl of sparrow eggs

and a bird the color of butter

eating a loaf of bread

going on and on about 

gorgonzola

i couldn’t stop crying

yet i did finally

and proceeded to build

a gigantic fortress out of

old tires and japanese wigs

i’d sleep there in the winter

after you’d moved to chicago

occasionally

1644 (paper, ink, acrylic, glue on wood)