Sunday, December 6, 2009

Ce La Vie!

If I could touch the sky, pull out a starry night from the clouds,
If I could write a book or read one,
If I could be wise, and see things that others didn’t know they know,
Or if I could have more hairs on my head than there are spaghetti strands in italy,
Then I would be happy.


Fourty five thousand people marched together in fantastic straight lines in order to penetrate the most secret fortress of france.
A sixteenth of them survived into their forty fifth year, as most of them died in the original attack and the rest perished shortly thereafter from acute anthrax brought upon by poisoned soup consumption.

If you cut off your hand, is your hand missing a body or is your body missing a hand?

you and me

I was an ass without meaning to.
Not to be, but to.
But you didn’t finish your sentence, you cried!
And I thought you were going to…
But,
The only thing I was going to was.

my nose

I woke up and my nose was missing again.
I started and wept tears of admiration and utmost profound joy.
“How could this be?” I admonished through my tears?
They were wet, and I found them soon to be unpleasant.
It promised to be a cold and unpleasant day throughout.
I soon found my nose—it was where it usually is, but just a millimeter or two to the left.
A hair to the left really.

Tuesday, August 11, 2009

cascading mountains of gumdrops

cascading mountains of fountain-frothing gumdrops and sherbert foam tumbled out of bedsheet equilibria to touch my cheek lightly before picking me up and slamming me down, hard.
"Ow, dammit!" I yelled, frustrated.
I rolled out of bed. "The cheek touching was fine, but no rough stuff!" I glared at roboslop, my newly purchased automatic alarm clock/electronic puppy. He whimpered on the floor, embarrassed. I sighed. "I suppose you didn't ruin my day," I muttered.

I rolled through the day at dynamite industries inc. waiting to get back to sleep. smile, nod, make faces at my screen to amuse myself, doodle large elephant like figures on my desk, file some paperwork, tap my feet, dance a little jig on the way out of the office, ding ding ding it's 8 PM I'm home pop a food capsule turn on the tube and doze off to...munitions factories outfitting hundreds of toy soldiers in red coats and stolid faces, marching off with their new muskets all in time rat tat tat and then I AM one except my limbs are shaking as I walk because they're loose, some shoddy manufacturing and the damn toymaker didnt nail or screw in my legs tight enough and now i'm teetering but none of the other soldiers want to stop, they just want to march, and now one legg is off and I'm hopping, I'm hopping until I have the brilliant idea of using my musket as a peg leg/cane, so now I'm good to go except we come upon a large contingency of enemy soldiers. They would be cute if they were'nt so damn hostile, and now my fellow red-coated soldiers are dropping lik flies. I can't reload, or even fire, because I'm so intent on just standing, I mean, I'm injured for chrissake, what, I have to fight too? And now there's a toy bullet going real slow towards my head and--boop!-- knocks it off. Great, I got no head.
and now I'm floating, floating floating up and the toys at war look exactly like what they are--toys-- and I'm higher and higher up inthe clouds and then there's a mountain up there in the clouds, with all sorts of wonderous fountains of flowing colored mist, lavender and green and everything is foggy but there are flowing gumdrop rivulets cutting through the ground and greeny mountain rocks all huge and craggy, the whole thing is expansive and now I'm cirling down and towards it and towards it and it's wet on my face and that must be the mist, wait no-- someone's licking my face--
"dammit Roboslop!!"
he sits back down on the floor, panting, looking somewhat wounded.
"I was floating over the gumdrop mountains! Do you understand that?!"
He whimpers slightly, and keeps panting. Clearly does not understand. I need to return this damn dog for a better model. New technology isn't always better. They make the outside look nicer, but are there internal improvements? not really...

work

I'm sitting at a desk
in a cubicle
in a room
in an office
in a building
in downtown manhattan
there's a view of the statue of liberty from some of the offices
not mine

I don't have an office
I don't feel inferior since I'm only an intern
why would i have an office?
I'm only here for two days
no heirarchy for me

in new york
on the east coast
near brooklyn
not far from staten
above the ocean
between the rivers

i work in a river sandwich
maybe it's a roast beef sandwich
maybe it's pastrami
maybe its salami
maybe its vegan seitan

i hate foods made from soy
they bring me little joy
and chickpeas, too
I like foods made from chickpeas, just not the chickpeas themselves, you see.

I like impromptu dance parties in offices
they never happen, except for maybe now and then in the movies
and probably on tv
everything happens on tv
sharks
whales
plane crashes
james bond
steve urkel
scheming mice

I

Have to tell you something
A fact I must confess
There is nothing that tickles me more
Even a soft carress

But one thing in the world
Like nothing else provides
Of the joy of writing blog posts
God himself could not criticize
So three cheers for blogs!