Good Day

Clinamen observed in everyday situation: you go to the supermarket for tomatoes and end up the host of a talk show. Garbage men know what is real. As real as same sex marriages in Calgary. According to the popular media, the Albertasaurous’s predictions for the future include, but are not limited to: vomiting, getting drunk and yelling outside a homeless shelter for the inhabitants inside to get a job, and finally a warm slice of American apple pie with some milk missiles to warsh it down. Texas north, eh? Instead of a discussion list about gender, lick your toenails. If
they feel wavy then you need more calcium. Try Alberta beef! Please! We’re finally home at the same time and you don’t have to dance. Not to mention 31o C in the shade without a drop of moisture in the twenty-four hour workday.

Good Day



Mayonnaise, mostly mayonnaise and some rocket fuel to get that red glare. Don't fear the torches over the hillock, the border, the miasma of trenches and for a foot of muddy ground then for an other. Six of one half a baker's dozen of another. Marginal nascence of an oncoming sentence. A sonancy gathering stems and branches, it propagandizes into "I soaked in it!." The cultural peak, flagged, flanked, clambered day in and day out while my couch sags a little bit more into a sofa.

Good Day

When we awoke I wanted to tell you that some of my best friends are Canadian, that I’m no better and no worse than the media or the American President, that if I didn’t have to work I’d make us some Belgian waffles with wild-berries, Saskatoon berries, that the sky might not have fallen in and that I might be part of the problem as much as part of the solution, but it was six in the morning and we didn’t have any fair trade coffee to percolate.

?Good Day

When I’m upset, I tend toward the abstract. Or I don’t. Is it the business? The role, to paraphrase, of the poet in the 20th Century. To lie. The war a sort of rampant plagarism all over the word. When the ball ceases to bounce, keep singing. When the ball ceases to bounce, and settles into a manicured slot, it will seep predestined to both the winners or the losers, even presidential. A sum of such events we call history/past. An all night drive into the mountains while the world slowly tilts a bit more away from the sun. Mark it by shadows. In the Holy Forest. Paint by shotgun. A wedding between chance (take it) and necessity (you will appear to have had to). Cement poetry. Concrete is, in fact, a renewable resource. In this way, we propose the sustainability of a distinctly Canadian Poetry. Or not. The roll of the poet. The croissant. The baguette and bagage. Desserts are for fighting in once you’ve read your history at CNN.com. Panic in the apiary and the thin birds (metaflora and -fauna) start to squawk, cluck and clutter, stuck on each other more than some perceived other. Your skin is an alien metal. Shine your fingernails with silver and gold. Get your teeth whole sale at sidewalk level. Clearance at the mall entrance when the register comes online. Your purse is a terminal case, your wallet an illness. Fuck off. I’m busy and tired today, for at least 3 more hours. Your ass fat in the blue aisle.

Good Day

On the gramma phone again.

?Good Day

Afraid of car crashes, you sexy brute, you traipsed all over the daffodils and stayed at home. It isn’t how you spell it that smarts. S-M-R-T. Book or street spirit, call it a radio button attuned to ask you questions about the fly in your soup. Or the one in your face. It isn’t love, gets ya outta bed in the morning. It is your legs. Pants on one at a timesy. I need to see you in concert to fully understand the bombs. And a glorious sunshine begets the world. Part 3 begins with the lawn freshly shorn amidst hellos with the neighbours and apologies for not shovelling the walkway in the winter. With friends back in town to remind me Ezra Pound said something about either imitating another writer really well or not at all and I think the same is probably true for taking over the world. Do it or don’t do it. When it is blatantly obvious it is somehow less insulting. Said with a sneer instead of a smile. In that way at least evil men are honest. Even if only about being evil.

?Good Day

People on cell phones mostly look self-important. New coffee ready to percolate as soon as you’re home with some ice cream. And instrumentals are so much less interesting because they don’t tell you anything about the artists themselves. Which have we won the war or the battle? It’s old news by now anyway. Hell derives from a Saxon word with no equivalent. One more journey to the underworld, your own private Niflhelm where those who did not die in conflict supposedly dwell. That part of the foot covered over by the leg. Probably the left one. Defined, wined and dined on a shoestring budget. And if you could play the tuba, then I bet you would be by now on an island. Or else risk a bad report from parent teacher night. A stutter in the network, your friends don’t ever call, or if they do, then it suddenly rains; the very fact of it challenges you to eat breakfast with soy milk before going to work at seven. It, and a few other things, all being ‘of the family’ or categorically vertical, demanded the rent cheque while you were at the front door in a baby blue fleece housecoat and mismatched socks. Like this, the sky has been cloudy then sunny repeatedly for the last few weeks which really takes the wind out of wanting to mow the lawn. Tomorrow I’ll get new contacts. And that’ll be a good day. Soon it might be your eyes that reflect the firelight. Then we can call it easy to be objective about things like rotten meat, a house of viruses, and possibly another circle. The bad news is most likely a change of eye colour will be as easy as this. Out the side of your mouth: ground up whale and a punch in the stomach, or if you’d prefer sushi above the human ladder. Eau de toilette. Fight at center ice for single cell animated violence. A visitor or strange portrait on a snowy evening. The house falls down around us in ordinarily Disney style. The striped tent slide show includes toxic paint fumes while the kids rally around reality television again. Pieces around nothing. Wait for your latté. Little blue boy at the bottom of the steps, rolled down the hill with a bucket under the bed, and then when the phone rings answer it on the third ring and say the word: punctilious. That’ll go down on the record until we get a dishwasher. Blood across the newspaper, now it’s black and white and red all over. Not that you can’t buy things from the past while we all think about sleep. A zipper, some buttons, earphones and the channel changes. Telegraph reads: After you. Through the gates and along the intention paved road. See you there, then. Good day. Good day. Good day. Stop.

Good Day

America + Teachers = The Alphabet

?Good Day

What it is, that the sunlight falls or shoots, that ladders are an integrated architecture of form and space, function and engineering, and that we’ve made the canyon grand. All over Calgary, the people are talking and apparently the difference is spreading which is a little different than has spread. Not at all like an epidemic. These words arrive or are left or maybe are just given over and drop like throwing pine cones into a bucket. Is it now full? Or was it empty? That these words cling to the line directly above, desperate to satellite, or that they will stop at exactly the point I intend and never seem fragile or perched to fall. The legacy of the blank space, words, that letters are a capital idea and so is ice cream. 31 flavours and 26 figures. If I put you in, then it is spelled wrong, or at least unamerican. Oh, what I meant to say was that you’re in the shower and I’m listening to that new CD on the computer. But I really have to go and open the window, maybe repaint the frames, clean the panes, let some of this warm weather into our basement. When I moved here it was from the general to the local, or more specifically, from the couch to my computer.

Good Day

That red and green can hide. Thunder around the house. These grey skies on a work day. Eight hours, no wallet, no keys, no lunch yet. Catch the coffee while it is still fresh and then put in your contacts (a brief attempt at energy/where has all the yoga warmth gone?). Rattles, a wish for that sound, rattles. The door handle to rotate, the door to swing inward, and then to know you are home. To be home.

Good Day

Then you fall down the towel of baber and smite the morning's omlette. If you've brought you arms, then by all means put them around me until the ends. She said "valley of shadows" and I heard "heterogenous eggplant dish". That it should return after it wanders, the sunlight, not exactly a return, since it is we that revolve, in and out of space.

Good Day

Save on mother's day, that the phone died and the curtains, the grey ones over our south windows, billowed. And you were almost home with Salmon for dinner. The cedar board is in the sink, and the dishes are done. Not much else happens beyond an early riser in a friend's yoga room. Perhaps allergy season has already begun. With loud music, on this holiday, all recharged: camera, mp3 player, and phone. We'll talk later if your cell phone is turned on.

Good Day

The headlines read: you've already lost if you are writing this, a president may have agendas slightly different than that of his country, the nachos I made with blue chips and feta cheese are very spicy. The local in this poem stands as the other good day poems, the notion of nation, and CNN. And then the content sprawls, like language sprawls or spans. You forgot to put the t in stars and made us all shiver again, hand over mouth, never speak of it. Another good way to keep people from talking to one another about the bomb, I mean, the war. America's foreign policy isn't going to exit any more. Post-American-Empire Poetry 201. The best trick they can play is to make us all believe we are free. We act of our own (Honda) accord. I got your letter of welcome into the billionaire's club. And it was a little before the fact. I'm just shy, that's all. The password is, or may very well be, sanctuary. Punctilious.

Good Day

Principle detention: my retainer fell into the toilet. It was that type of morning. Down between 7 to 11 percent and the manager shakes hands with his employees, or maybe I should have said staff... Happy days are here again. Happy days, indeed. Today on television at work they were showing, and have been all week, the 700 club. Miracles a minute and Rice-A-Roni. Should you wish for a towlette, just ring the rosey with a pocket full of poesy. Asha Asha we all fall. With spray paint in the walk-in freezer and our very own masks. Mine says shoulder.

Good Day

Sal’s, on 1st street in the south east is it? South of Stephen’s Avenue… That he redefined the omelet this morning. Now it means something substantial in the family of rocks or mountainscapes and so simple. A deli sandwich. Some delicious soup. Café Mauro in Calgary with squash coloured walls. When the sun isn’t in the sky, it is inside his deli. Two games down with this online chess to someone from the Netherlands. And my younger brother signs in from Ontario. As if it wasn’t almost three there. Ere he fought for some aiches and dumped the bucket of hydrogen onto itself at the foot of our driveway; the spectacle our grandmother would recount this Christmas. At least if the lawn wasn’t all pulled up over her tonight. As it is tonight. And I guess that’s back in Ontario too where people, I’ve been informed, and formed, formed on, they let me know from, where friends, even, are decorating their face masks instead of Easter eggs today. A smile in the sun minus the I is nice without its own cloud cover. Two in the hand. A daze, tho a good one, appalls, it is hidden in effigy against a lighter day’s basketball game, and summarily, buried outside our window where the damp smell lingers. That it should start this way: late stumble collision with the wall and we both stepped on my painting last night tho you are the only one who came away with a nose out of joint, and around 11:00 this morning sirens called us to open the curtains ever so slightly, and water our bonsai before going out for the day. Someone named HEINEKEN castles. Which only sets up a mate on the seventh rank unless black is careful there. The knights assemble, and with a rook in the right place, babble. It is a good day, it was. No matter how many times you have to tell yourself. And it’ll end with sleep. You know that. It’ll end that way. Damaged immune system, old, very young, no matter, no material; a pall with what silver lining could listen this closely to a country shivering toward night, provinces drop one by one behind the receding lightline. It was, it is. No matter what.

Good Day

That it should probably not happen this way. Every tremendous second. And the weight of drunken grass (it doesn't all move at the same time you know, each blade). Windows disappear even as we see them, their frames rattle in the wind. But the frames... the edges of a newspaper. Slight. Sunlight. Sun lit. I lost my bank card again and it was you that stepped off the train only to turn right back around and help me. It was you and for that the burden has lifted a little, your smile. For that, the anxious moments of debt gain their edges. It was for you, and always will be, that at any point during a sunset, I will stop and just watch. Good Day. It turned out to be. And I thank you.

Good Day

From June to June. Would you like to large size this poem? In the lounge again, that mode and methond. To stay, maintain, and enjoy this grey rain. Till the next episode. The sitcom's insistence at the outset. Smart marketing=captive audience for super heroes of the capitalist era. Commercials before movies. Life in the Pre. Settle for nothing. Catchy fish. And now I have to go to the bathroom again. The body is a damn repetitive system with infinite variation. Limits of the package that I'd love to sell you include: adult acne, body odour, athelete's foot, inconsistent hygeine, a damn fine stove, good taste in music, common sense, socialism, '90's style green activism, a new toothbrush and some cobalt blue acrylic paint. Oh, also cobalt blue oil paint. This is the Mensa puzzle I told you about: Which four letter word can be attached to the back of the following words to create six other words? Over, down, fore, news, type, out.

Good Day




Once it has passed upon a time, cloaked Wagner, quick institute bellows our youngsters, gifted or otherwise accidental. No one was badly hurt. Control blasts across the room and the weather chinooks it should be said. Beasts rifle the pages and further blue on blue aphasia. How come your legs work. Against understanding in such plain talk as this. Rooms move past confederate canadians, evolution beyond mourning: one against many should reveal itself as a construct and therefore false; a storm out of nowhere, see how semi-colons work, that is, a reading...


The ghost of Ulysses visited my window today as I was chatting with a friend. I put a dish of milk out for him. Only to learn later that cats shouldn’t have milk because it is bad for them. US defends progress, allies pound Iraq.

March to the codes it changes into the fool’s day with the words: INVALID ARGUMENT. The codes we’re slaves too, such as: “eat something”, or “buy this shirt”, or “invade Iraq”. All I want to do is get this interview online. Can we speed this up?

Hot afternoon when work finished. And a friend signaled in from Ohio. This program autocorrects my typing so if I make a mistake and it recognizes it, then it changes it to the correct spelling. Imagine the same thing could happen with grammar? Each letter is targeted and the difference abolished. Haunting PNAC. We set ourselves up as victims and shake our heads about what to do with GB. Well, why not decide we won’t forgive him? Like he’s some sort of rain cloud. Hell, people complain and do more to a cashier than they do when basic human decency is transgressed. On my webmail page it has a banner ad that advertises the American Green Card Lottery. You could get a green card. Sign up for the American Green Card Lottery today! Do they even know what is going on with their own country? Rockets red glare, the bombs bursting in air, gave through from the night, that our flag was still there. Maybe they do.

Good Day



Went out to buy matte medium to cover up the numbers I stuck on cardboard.
Couldn't decide between matte or glossy. Now I'm eating ice cream while a
mother on the front page of the sun gazes disdainfully away from a
photographer. Her child is in the forefront. There are certain things that
I wouldn't want to see mass produced and ice cream is definitely one of
them. It is most likely a disgusting procedure.



Good Day



It doesn't matter anymore how long things actually take. Once they are
recorded and archived they can be made into any length. I can edit them
into any length. But then that's always been true of really important
things. Somehow sunlight spills through the bedroom window, across the
bonsai's leaves, over the blue sheets, the dark blue sheets, and makes a
distorted square shape on the carpet with black shadows that resemble
evergreen branches waving in a silent wind. Saskatoon conversations and
different places. The war began when I was away. Maybe one of the most
disgusting things will be that after all of this very little will have
changed. At least over here.



Good day



I brought home a painting from work today and put it in front of the
television. For some reason we don't have cable. And then I got another
bowl of ice cream. It might seem like I eat ice cream everyday but that's
not quite true. I don't eat ice cream every day. Everybody's angry.
People shout about not being recognized, others are bombed for being
recognized, people feel victimized, colonized, angry at being painted as the
force, and yet Bush still warns the coast guard to be vigilant against
homeland attacks. Some of my best friends are from Winnipeg, she said at
the border. But it wasn't to the coast guard. Undefended for so long,
along its length it stretches thing these days. When do we tell the Master
that he is helpless without US. The emperor can't even get dressed.



Good Day



Hot afternoon when work finished. And a friend signaled in from Ohio. This
program autocorrects my typing so if I make a mistake and it recognizes it,
then it changes it to the correct spelling. Imagine the same thing could
happen with grammar? Each letter is targeted and the difference abolished.
Haunting PNAC. We set ourselves up as victims and shake our heads about
what to do with GB. Well, why not decide we won't forgive him? Like he's
some sort of rain cloud. Hell, people complain and do more to a cashier
than they do when basic human decency is transgressed. On my webmail page
it has a banner ad that advertises the American Green Card Lottery. You
could get a green card. Sign up for the American Green Card Lottery today!
Do they even know what is going on with their own country? Rockets red
glare, the bombs bursting in air, gave through from the night, that our flag
was still there. Maybe they do.




Good Day



March to the codes it changes into the fool's day with the words: INVALID
ARGUMENT. The codes we're slaves too, such as: "eat something", or "buy
this shirt", or "invade Iraq". All I want to do is get this interview
online. Can we speed this up?



Good Day



The ghost of Ulysses visited my window today as I was chatting with a
friend. I put a dish of milk out for him. Only to learn later that cats
shouldn't have milk because it is bad for them. US defends progress, allies
pound Iraq.



Good Day



It is a battle for control each moment between sleep and cartoons. That
voices lisp in many tones over faded cells. And it could be the sun any
minute now. A storm mumbles quietly through each individual's claim to
collective identity; that it cleans the palette of beauty, scours the hard
pan, dust over the filigreed cracks. Both say the other is a relic, evil,
antlers and crosshairs in the middle east. Each new horror makes the last
newsworthy. The norms can be heard even if we can't see the images, it is
still possible to follow the narrative as it is always played out away from
the blast. Tents blasted and rocks thrashed from the center. Epidermal
splices strike difference from accord, strips the grass from the idea of
lawn, that it could all just be a matter of skin. It isn't just style, it's
lifestyle. Someone tell the clones. It's the old take a hostage then take
the target scam over breakfast. Simple words take on more than their usual
weight of meaning, such that breakfast splits and its surface suggests the
outcome. Spread your wings and fly.



Good Day



Writing with/after Roy Miki knocks at my door. The breaks were sustained,
were stunning. Between the page and book end, the period senses, a
duration, it could be that I bought you these flowers --- snapdragons, blue
bells, daffodils --- but even their stories are fraught with weather, in as
much to say this war will not be televised, it will be television. Craft,
then, a chest heaves, gets buried and mapped. That the train moves into a
tunnel, or a tunnel forms around the train is hot air at least, the wind.
From the west, next word: 'Discovery' and also to channel, the lock - able
society everywhere in the (GAP or GNP) chains. There is a belief you were
talking about while we ate beets at our small kitchen table. Or were you
talking about belief at all? Maybe it was me. Historically, all I could
hear was my own voice anyway, and your eyes as they quietly closed.



Good Day



Today the nervous, modest, quiet laughter hides so much bitterness and
anger. The alarm clock you forgot to set fifty years ago, some would say,
is largely responsible for this. Well, I don't know about that, but I do
know that the weather sure has been nice lately, even for tactical
operations. But what happens when the sand settles? Aha! She exclaimed,
you've colonized the moment. And exceeded my expectations. There are so
many reasons within the record of the victorious that make me sad and
ashamed. Today the toll rises by the second.



Good Day



Snow began to fall. A whole day before the computer. There's at least a
foot outside and it seems to be going for another. Unstoppable advance.
The snow might yet be the last uncontrollable aspect of nature to fall. At
least that's what Thomas Merton had to say in his essay on Ionesco's
Rhinoceros and Rain in the book Sources. Well, he said it about rain, but
snow seems even less likely to be useful. Except maybe to keep a person in
doors before their computer, writing.



Good Day



Shrapnel and azaleas hurtle over the radio, a commercial each for different
products. That it could happen, that it did. Operation Iraqi Freedom means
metal in the head and breast. Shot through windows, explosions in the sky.
Rahed Hakem remembers "the voice of explosions" and saw from her door "the
sky raining fire". Bomblets. Let's bomb. In the name of freedom. We
can't say french. Some remain unexploded right before the television screen
in the living room. Register your firearms. I wonder if these little bombs
have warning labels for children that say: "if you can read this." Cluster
fuck. What now. What next? That question leads Us. Will that be our
answer ad infinitum?



Good Day



I woke up late today and there still weren't tanks or the sounds of gunfire
outside on 19th Ave NW. The ground wasn't violently heaving. Tho the
carpet was thick with dust. After eight hard days at work it was nice to
wake slowly. My girlfriend made coffee early and by the time I got out of
bed it was thick, full, steeped. So I put on another pot, but not because
of that. She let her cup go cold. I finished mine. War stats and star
wars. Wonder how far along the film is along now? Sunny Baghdad. The
airport seems to be the last site of open warfare. From now on it becomes
an urban mission. Maybe that's when we'll feel the tread of the tanks shake
my basement apartment walls, maybe then we won't be able to go down the
street to the A & A deli for baklawa. And maybe not. Maybe while buildings
are rocked with mortar fire over there, I'll still want to sleep in, be
tired from work, and upset that I don't have time to read the books I want
to read. Maybe absolutely nothing on the surface will be disrupted here in
Calgary. Good for business, I guess.



Good Day



Queen Victoria. Secrets and do you like that. Do you want a tarot reading?
Ere the crows fly the colours of their home. They fly the cross of the blue
factory flame. Magnetic poetry company. They ain't true colours, but they're
real colours of their flame. Paralyzed by the emptiness. Chalice. Blog.
Blix. Choose the dominoes to spread a street centric system for spray paint.
It is uncanny. That this could be newsworthy. Cluster bombs. Post fact.
Every mile for ten thousand mile. Every year for a thousand year. Every
night for a thousand nights. Thank you jason molina. It gets blurry and
continentally important. Biased. Space. Woman's voice. Paralyzed. Wounds
funny, shrapnel record, go ahead. Who knows? '



Good Day



It moves left and right. Responsible person can't lie. It is a hierophant
and a middle idel for land mines. Glenn says post your own page. Good Day.
It shines and world flights one of one, and oreo and a beer. With the
takeover of CPU. It happens and slices into islands or peninsulas and
spelling mistakes, a rise in the drama. More results for search engines.
Socks up, chemical weapons masks on. Functional alcoholism makes me
reasonable. The raindrops. Shades.

Good Day

Today it ruins. You’ve got 48 hrs without Nolte and Murphy. Black droplets; tears rend the sky into what appears to be a beach replete with driftwood. Our hour.

Good Day

That we were both our first gesture and in the early morning toward arms, making torsos lift from the blue sheets, that we were both cold, could allow for a large enough frame to include a map of the furnace clicking awake throughout the night. You said: “it’s seven am and I have to run.” Somewhere vials fill clear, their liquid suggests an effervescence beyond simply what an alligator might accomplish as an ambulance operator. And my own eyes, for their purpose, chose to collect other bodies (WO I might add) from the shapes that spackle our ceiling. Ambulatory clouds cover sense. Yet it is only a moment that waits to occur. And after you’ve read it, maybe such things did. Find is in the glove, the finger’s occupation, as much as in the word ‘trouver’. Some roots for discover land them into a perpetual deathcycle for two more lines, two feet, a meter. Strike accord in opulence. Beauty rests, and finally, thank god, in the ice of the bell holder. When it does, the shatter startles us out of a momentary reverie, it is after all an early morning, and as suddenly as the things shiver, they fetter awareness to its own balloon, filling our minds with a body, our body with an idea of itself and its opposite, and filling its opposite with the desire for some coffee, the newspaper, some golden or glass slippers.

dimanche, avril 06, 2003

Good Day

Queen Victoria. Secrets and do you like that. Do you want a tarot reading? Ere the crows fly the colours of their home. They fly the cross of the blue factory flame. Magnetic poetry company. They ain't true colours, but they're real colours of their flame. Paralyzed by the emptiness. Chalice. Blog. Blix. Choose the dominoes to spread a street centric system for spray paint. It is uncanny. That this could be newsworthy. Cluster bombs. Post fact. Every mile for ten thousand mile. Every year for a thousand year. Every night for a thousand nights. Thank you jason molina. It gets blurry and continentally important. Biased. Space. Woman's voice. Paralyzed. Wounds funny, shrapnel record, go ahead. Who knows?
'

Good Day

It moves left and right. Responsible person can't lie. It is a hierophant and a middle idel for land mines. Glenn says post your own page. Good Day. It shines and world flights one of one, and oreo and a beer. With the takeover of CPU. It happens and slices into islands or peninsulas and spelling mistakes, a rise in the drama. More results for search engines. Socks up, chemical weapons masks on. Functional alcoholism makes me reasonable. The raindrops. Shades.

Good Day



Went out to buy matte medium to cover up the numbers I stuck on cardboard. Couldn’t decide between matte or glossy. Now I’m eating ice cream while a mother on the front page of the sun gazes disdainfully away from a photographer. Her child is in the forefront. There are certain things that I wouldn’t want to see mass produced and ice cream is definitely one of them. It is most likely a disgusting procedure.




It doesn’t matter anymore how long things actually take. Once they are recorded and archived they can be made into any length. I can edit them into any length. But then that’s always been true of really important things. Somehow sunlight spills through the bedroom window, across the bonsai’s leaves, over the blue sheets, the dark blue sheets, and makes a distorted square shape on the carpet with black shadows that resemble evergreen branches waving in a silent wind. Saskatoon conversations and different places. The war began when I was away. Maybe one of the most disgusting things will be that after all of this very little will have changed. At least over here.


I brought home a painting from work today and put it in front of the television. For some reason we don’t have cable. And then I got another bowl of ice cream. It might seem like I eat ice cream everyday but that’s not quite true. I don’t eat ice cream every day. Everybody’s angry. People shout about not being recognized, others are bombed for being recognized, people feel victimized, colonized, angry at being painted as the force, and yet Bush still warns the coast guard to be vigilant against homeland attacks. Some of my best friends are from Winnipeg, she said at the border. But it wasn’t to the coast guard. Undefended for so long, along its length it stretches thing these days. When do we tell the Master that he is helpless without US. The emperor can’t even get dressed.

Hot afternoon when work finished. And a friend signaled in from Ohio. This program autocorrects my typing so if I make a mistake and it recognizes it, then it changes it to the correct spelling. Imagine the same thing could happen with grammar? Each letter is targeted and the difference abolished. Haunting PNAC. We set ourselves up as victims and shake our heads about what to do with GB. Well, why not decide we won’t forgive him? Like he’s some sort of rain cloud. Hell, people complain and do more to a cashier than they do when basic human decency is transgressed. On my webmail page it has a banner ad that advertises the American Green Card Lottery. You could get a green card. Sign up for the American Green Card Lottery today! Do they even know what is going on with their own country? Rockets red glare, the bombs bursting in air, gave through from the night, that our flag was still there. Maybe they do.


March to the codes it changes into the fool’s day with the words: INVALID ARGUMENT. The codes we’re slaves too, such as: “eat something”, or “buy this shirt”, or “invade Iraq”. All I want to do is get this interview online. Can we speed this up?



The ghost of Ulysses visited my window today as I was chatting with a friend. I put a dish of milk out for him. Only to learn later that cats shouldn’t have milk because it is bad for them. US defends progress, allies pound Iraq.




It is a battle for control each moment between sleep and cartoons. That voices lisp in many tones over faded cells. And it could be the sun any minute now. A storm mumbles quietly through each individual’s claim to collective identity; that it cleans the palette of beauty, scours the hard pan, dust over the filigreed cracks. Both say the other is a relic, evil, antlers and crosshairs in the middle east. Each new horror makes the last newsworthy. The norms can be heard even if we can’t see the images, it is still possible to follow the narrative as it is always played out away from the blast. Tents blasted and rocks thrashed from the center. Epidermal splices strike difference from accord, strips the grass from the idea of lawn, that it could all just be a matter of skin. It isn’t just style, it’s lifestyle. Someone tell the clones. It’s the old take a hostage then take the target scam over breakfast. Simple words take on more than their usual weight of meaning, such that breakfast splits and its surface suggests the outcome. Spread your wings and fly.



Writing with/after Roy Miki knocks at my door. The breaks were sustained, were stunning. Between the page and book end, the period senses, a duration, it could be that I bought you these flowers --- snapdragons, blue bells, daffodils --- but even their stories are fraught with weather, in as much to say this war will not be televised, it will be television. Craft, then, a chest heaves, gets buried and mapped. That the train moves into a tunnel, or a tunnel forms around the train is hot air at least, the wind. From the west, next word: ‘Discovery’ and also to channel, the lock – able society everywhere in the (GAP or GNP) chains. There is a belief you were talking about while we ate beets at our small kitchen table. Or were you talking about belief at all? Maybe it was me. Historically, all I could hear was my own voice anyway, and your eyes as they quietly closed.




Today the nervous, modest, quiet laughter hides so much bitterness and anger. The alarm clock you forgot to set fifty years ago, some would say, is largely responsible for this. Well, I don’t know about that, but I do know that the weather sure has been nice lately, even for tactical operations. But what happens when the sand settles? Aha! She exclaimed, you’ve colonized the moment. And exceeded my expectations. There are so many reasons within the record of the victorious that make me sad and ashamed. Today the toll rises by the second.

Good Day



Went out to buy matte medium to cover up the numbers I stuck on cardboard. Couldn’t decide between matte or glossy. Now I’m eating ice cream while a mother on the front page of the sun gazes disdainfully away from a photographer. Her child is in the forefront. There are certain things that I wouldn’t want to see mass produced and ice cream is definitely one of them. It is most likely a disgusting procedure.




It doesn’t matter anymore how long things actually take. Once they are recorded and archived they can be made into any length. I can edit them into any length. But then that’s always been true of really important things. Somehow sunlight spills through the bedroom window, across the bonsai’s leaves, over the blue sheets, the dark blue sheets, and makes a distorted square shape on the carpet with black shadows that resemble evergreen branches waving in a silent wind. Saskatoon conversations and different places. The war began when I was away. Maybe one of the most disgusting things will be that after all of this very little will have changed. At least over here.


I brought home a painting from work today and put it in front of the television. For some reason we don’t have cable. And then I got another bowl of ice cream. It might seem like I eat ice cream everyday but that’s not quite true. I don’t eat ice cream every day. Everybody’s angry. People shout about not being recognized, others are bombed for being recognized, people feel victimized, colonized, angry at being painted as the force, and yet Bush still warns the coast guard to be vigilant against homeland attacks. Some of my best friends are from Winnipeg, she said at the border. But it wasn’t to the coast guard. Undefended for so long, along its length it stretches thing these days. When do we tell the Master that he is helpless without US. The emperor can’t even get dressed.

Hot afternoon when work finished. And a friend signaled in from Ohio. This program autocorrects my typing so if I make a mistake and it recognizes it, then it changes it to the correct spelling. Imagine the same thing could happen with grammar? Each letter is targeted and the difference abolished. Haunting PNAC. We set ourselves up as victims and shake our heads about what to do with GB. Well, why not decide we won’t forgive him? Like he’s some sort of rain cloud. Hell, people complain and do more to a cashier than they do when basic human decency is transgressed. On my webmail page it has a banner ad that advertises the American Green Card Lottery. You could get a green card. Sign up for the American Green Card Lottery today! Do they even know what is going on with their own country? Rockets red glare, the bombs bursting in air, gave through from the night, that our flag was still there. Maybe they do.


March to the codes it changes into the fool’s day with the words: INVALID ARGUMENT. The codes we’re slaves too, such as: “eat something”, or “buy this shirt”, or “invade Iraq”. All I want to do is get this interview online. Can we speed this up?



The ghost of Ulysses visited my window today as I was chatting with a friend. I put a dish of milk out for him. Only to learn later that cats shouldn’t have milk because it is bad for them. US defends progress, allies pound Iraq.