a little gnome lore.

the poor little guys.

they never had a even a little chance.

little pointy hats.

green little shoes.

little rotund caricatures.

growing little beards.

saving for a little retirement.

in case of little on the job accidents.

that might happen on little adventures.

all to feed little gnome wives.

it's tough to lead little, gnome, lives.

title

I'm having trouble moving today.

There were orange bricks swimming in the Iowa river this morning.

Sea foam not produced by the sea sank downstream.

The gray sky smiles and innocently pretends ignorance.

and I seem to be having trouble moving today.

tra gnikam em dna arod dora and me making art

perhaps i ought not

perhaps I ought not what I oughtn't have done. but now is a time of review and cognizance of a cognitive dissonance in which my life can not simply be hanging by a thread, for if it were at least I would know what is holding it together. but more well better good i think that floating isn't something i'm doing, but rather a longer more depth of free fall in your hands.

Mr. Potato head picks his nose.

I suppose there is more to life than this.

searching for hay in a needle stack

I am looking for the hay in a stack of golden needles,

You are anything but ordinary, there is just so very much

You will be my, will be my. Every time I try, my hands come

wounded.

that once in the morning I would remember. call you let it fall.

failing to connect, and develop a sight for these things. chances are. well. chances. jump from a metaphorical bridge contrasting your life and mine. I landed on insecurity. He was well dressed with a shirt reading "Insecurity." Gonna hire him to be my bouncer.

melting

melting, slowly melting,

cracking, here I miss the

way. cold and freezing,

slowly melting, cracking,

things used to be so much,

dripping, slowly melting,

cracking, more now, than

here, residing, slowly melt

ing, cracking, where all there

is to think of is one more way

in which the me failed the you,

one more way in which the now

tried to soon to reflect a future then.

the sandcastle adventure

everytime. everytime. everytime, I tell you. everytime puma-man tells me about a caper, inevitably it inextricably evolves into something quite more intense than originally intended. or at least conveyed. we ended up demolishing the taco bell with fast acting termites, burying it in the bottom of the ocean and waiting about five minutes, and then digging up the remains of the ill-fated restaurant and made a sand castle out of it's now sand like remains. or maybe we couldn't find where we buried it, so we just used regular sand. either way. it ended up being large enough we hired an entire team of alphabet soup noodles to make a sign, and we sold tacos across the street from where the old taco bell used to be. except we made fish tacos. puma-man likes fish. so much so that then we grew some gills and went swimming in the gulf for hours and he told me all about jellyfish. ok, i know what you say, you can't grow gills. that's true, we actually bartered for them. I gave my lungs to a bluegill in exchange for it and its brother's gills. puma did the same, except with a clown fish. yeah.

the chase

so there i was, in the middle of campus, and all of the sudden, i hear this roaring screeching sound. kind of sounded like a gorilla pounding on a whiteboard. scratch that, not that squeaky, more like a gorilla pounding on a chalkboard. a chalkboard with a portion of the sistine chapel copied onto it. or something. anyways. naturally i turn around, and what do i see? it turned out to be a renoir copy. i think it was this one ( http://www.zona-pellucida.com/renoir-claudepainting.html ). And then this four legged puma-man leaps out from behind a bus and starts chasing me. luckily i had a boomerang in my backpack, so i knocked this birdhouse off of a post and it hit the puma-man right on the noggin. thereabouts anyways. welp, that slowed him down a bit, then i was able to duck in the restroom for some much needed rest, and again, luckily, he was recovering right as i was finishing resting. so we had a grand ole chase and then we took a break to take a nap. tomorrow i think we are going to build a sand castle in front of taco bell. sort of a protest or something.

straight lines and rows of chairs.

they gather solitarily in solidarity their

respective armies waiting in consternation.

Disrespective of percepted or actual.

ah, without, lacking any sense of outside.

My favorite use of lined paper is writing

with disregard for the lines. with disregar-

-d for an arbitrary organization. let me move this chair over here.

one, two, three. hmm... about 7th from the left.

(lamp)

for that which everyone but them seems to grasp, (home)

(street lamp) (road)

(s)omehow (fence)(gate)(fence)(fence)(fence)

(tree) rn|ng, [fe

(d)irely, yea- nce]

(e)arnes|ly, [fen

(w)ho need; those ce]

(tree) fo|lowing, [fenc (tree)

(l) not care for those e]

(k) the roa| seems to (house)

ah, clarification is nice.

I'm pretty much certain that I like eggplant, and if a can of food started talking to me, I wouldn't be terribly surprised.

post 100

is life, too much to ask

Ís this, too such to mask

that I would, but which I not

That which I know

That which I see

all

seems

a darker shade

A lighter grey, lit

seems

that yet again, I wake too soon

that yet again, I wake too soon,

woken by a broken hollow,

the hole is through my side

sleep feels more empty

and waking fails to comfort.

here I hope that I can be

bleeding out to see you live

a one way mirror would be nice

ah if only i could sit

not concerned for your thoughts, and you not see me

if only could i leave

you to yourself and not continually drag me here

if could i only beg

that you forget my existence, a peril would i hold,

dear,

if i could only keep

my expressions from being seen, for then what

i could only keep if

you couldn't

broken flower

and all I wanted

All I wanted

I wanted

wanted

Here I stand, with my head in my hands,

trying to see, to see you live

Empty, broken shells surround

surround, walk once more, surround

shotgun through my hands, maybe that’ll be the day

and all I wanted

All I wanted

I wanted

wanted

Everything these hands, touch,

it turns to dust, and turns to dust

Empty, broken shells surround

surround, walk once more, surround

This chair that I sit in creaks, sounds just like I feel

and all I wanted

All I wanted

I wanted

wanted

and all I wanted

All I wanted

I wanted

wanted

and all that I can think to say is sorry

please i need to find the stem of this (broken) flower

and find the hand of God to sew it back

please God i’m a broken flower

but you can leave me here to stay in this madness

please take this one back to your heart

(i been wrestling with swine, my dear, i fear

to find myself the same

an animal loosed, taken with wine,

find myself taken by shame)

Don’t look back, for all you will see

I sit here with these splintered pieces of

a shattered man in my arms

they sit with nothing to put them back

in this fairy tale, smashed them with my fist

but that’s not what I wanted

All I wanted

I wanted

wanted

and all I wanted

All I wanted

I wanted

wanted