*AUDIO* Quick (Tasty) Morsels 3: No-Equity Limbo


Interest only reigns with the crack of that candy rope whip on the back of an immigrant jelly bean. That’s all the interest we can afford at this time, and our sweet tooth will just have to wait. Don’t you understand? This is crucial information we’ve come to obtain, and it’s important that you don’t just go pissing it away in a single afternoon. Your mother was right. You should have never joined that group of boys. They were nothing but trouble for you. They made you stay up late and forget to do your homework, and now look where you’ve ended up. Straight in the hall of shame, an apartment wanderer for life, essentially stuck in no-equity limbo and fit to be tied. How are you even going to deal with that? Did you develop any lucrative hobbies? I’m sure you didn’t. That must have been an afterthought. You were too busy finding the excitement in that first couple of seconds you spent roaming around and jumping at beasts who weren’t even planning to intimidate you.


*AUDIO* Quick (Tasty) Morsels 2: Assemblage


pumpernickel stereotypes
divulge their wildest imaginations
to the assemblage
of unintimidated pastry thieves

as the whole truck
(and everybody aboard)
skids to a gravelly halt.


*AUDIO* Quick (Tasty) Morsels 1: None of a Your Beeswax, Sonny

Here’s the first of a series of revisited poems that are read without commentary, very minimally. I found difficulty with the podcast format, confining myself to just the extended recording. But then I realized that people enjoy variety, and I enjoy working on a variety of styles on a regular basis, never restricting myself to a single project or ideal. Sometimes that kind of behavior can be shackling–it can lead to treading water in numerous areas instead of swimming in a handful.

Eh, live and learn.

So that’s what brings us to today! Quick (Tasty) Morsels is designed for your jet-setting citizen of the 21st Century, snack-sized recordings that are sure to raise just as many questions as they answer.

Cheers and enjoy!

None of a Your Beeswax, Sonny

A Winston box
ain’t none of a your beeswax, sonny,
we’re full up here.
Scram, you dig?

I mean, turpentine torpedo stitching
needn’t apply for a permit
before March 1st, or when
the next available March Hare
comes in for an appointment.

*AUDIO* ARK HIVES 1: 02/19/2014

Notice the lo-fi-ness? Yeah, it was an accident at first, but now I really like the idea of fuzzy recordings for the archives. Makes it feel older, yanno? It’s also reminiscent of Tom Waits’ lo-fi recordings of him telling stories.

So ya, here are the pieces I read for this recording:

Subconscious to the Rescue

Pile the sandbags and twirl the belts,
we’re not gonna lose our dishes to the wind
if I have anything to say about it!

Pile it all up, all that crap you never expected
you’d need to keep the mental tempest at bay.

No use questioning it at this point,
your brain sent out the SOS two days ago,
and I sincerely apologize for arriving so late.
You’d never believe the cross-country traffic.


Hit the Road

With fists would be too bloody,
so we picked the feet instead.

Stomping full speed ahead
with soles at our disposal,
we fully intended to swing
by the 24-hour bakery for
some half-price doughnuts
and a snifter of cider
on the house (if Freddy
decided to be kind to us).

Our plans changed, and
we began flipping pancakes
until we could find
a tangible solution.

It struck me like butter
and I scraped my elbow
on the doorway as I
hurried outside to yell

“America knows the truth
about agribusiness
and systemic starvation
of impoverished nations,
just ask the government!”

A sniper’s round whizzed
past my ear and I took
no time getting out of there,

though I lost my clothes
while going so fast,
an issue that pops up
more often than you think it should.


Bigfoot Carbon

It’s like I’m trying to crack
some Russian terrorist organization’s database

before the rubber ducky
explodes all over the train tracks
during the afternoon commute
away from the lovely metropolis
that affords so many people
the luxury of living 30 miles away
and commuting every day

to earn their big fat paychecks
while leaving bigfoot carbon prints

if they choose not to commute by rail.
But they can do whatever they want,
because having substantial sums of money
makes a person immune from criticism
and the need to change lifestyle.

The Wharved Connection — Episode 2

Hey there! It’s time once again for The Wharved Connection!

This episode features work from Summer of 2016, and includes:
Lake Uponamawoc
Biff and Buffy
Interstellar Reception Hall

The poems are below if you wish to read along.

Lake Uponamawoc

Handier than a set of dull steak knives
and more buoyant than the Duke of Edinburgh,
this here dog in a box is a celebration
of festive times past. Since the dawn
of our current set of circumstances,
nothing has refreshed one’s sense of dignity
more than the knowledge of a particular
string of extraterrestrial occurrences
up over by Lake Uponamawoc–if they’re
to be believed. The results of these
alien encounters are apparent: dogs-in-boxes
are popping up all across the tri-county area,
the calling cards of our benevolent overlords
from the other end of the galaxy. Nobody
knows when this started, but spiritual channelers
have often said this practice predates
the bronze age by a good margin. Our species
may have first learned of both dogs and boxes
through this bizarre ritual, utterly changing
our impressions of storage and animal friendship.


Biff and Buffy

I’m not too troubled
by the humanitarian implications
present in such an occurrence.
I’m more concerned with
how all these ham sandwiches–
half with mustard, half with mayo–
got here in the first place.
Falling from a passing hot air balloon
would be the most plausible explanation,
an airborne picnic that got
too heavy to stay aloft otherwise.

Biff and Buffy Picnicmaker
would have plenty left to snack on anyway
if such a scenario were true.
There would still be enough
hard-boiled eggs, potato salad,
caviar and toast points
to last them through the sunset,
as they’re not big eaters anyway.
They had a sizable breakfast
before taking to the sky,
and the only thing they really
can’t go without would be their urn
of coffee, painstakingly brewed
the day before yet still steaming–
just the way they like it.



The Sun filters
through canopy leaves
to impose
a tinted pinto pattern
on a utility vehicle—

two-hundred some-odd
horses under the hood,
expecting imminent
metal pedaling—
waiting in July heat

for the concrete cowboy
to unhitch them after sweating
in the noonday Sun
picking up the second load
of dry-cleaning in as many days.


Interstellar Reception Hall

While we’re at this interstellar reception hall,
we should take the time to tell all our friends
what we’re doing this for: the peculiar sense
of freedom and wonder that takes off like a goose
through the heron-streaked gates of our overlords,
be they earthly or heavenly. It doesn’t matter
who takes the cake in this tradition, we must
stealthily enlist the help of as many indentured
mandibles as humanly possible, lest we fall into
a holding pattern of nothing in particular–save
plaid or argyle in shirts and socks. We’re all in
the habit of making friends with people who choose
not to know much about our end of the galaxy, and
it’s not much of a turn-on when you come to realize
that nobody really knows much about our end of the galaxy.

The freedom to choose whose friendship we want
is something to be admired, but it comes with a cost:
pepperoni pizza to be consumed by all parties involved
for as long as a grand occasion can be extended. If
pizza isn’t the taste of the day, a number of foods may be
substituted–pita pockets, burgers or even flan for instance.


Thanks for tuning in, glad to have you around.

Catch you next time!


The Wharved Connection — Episode 1

Hello there, readers!

I’ve begun to explore the oratory side of poetry, taking pieces I’ve composed over the past several years and breathing life into them with my voice. I’ve been told that my voice does a unique job of making the written word more interesting to the average audience member, so I figured it was about time to give the whole podcast thing a shot.

That all being said, I’ve put together my very first podcast, with four recorded works included. I’ve cobbled together a rudimentary recording that should do the job for the time being. Over time, as I gain skills in the audio engineering department, I’ll be able to offer a more polished product. But as it stands, I simply want to get my spoken words across to you.

The pieces included in this podcast are:
The Widget Farmers
Chicken Wrestler

If these pieces seem new to you, that wouldn’t surprise me. They were all composed in the Summer of 2013. An entire olympics ago, I was penning these poems in the pursuit of continuing my craft and engineering works of literary merit that hadn’t existed anywhere else prior. Looking back at these efforts, I’m happy to say that they still hold a certain amount of intrigue.

You may have noticed that Wrinkled didn’t quite make the cut. These things happen.

Well, enjoy the recording, all eight minutes of it. I expect that most episodes will be anywhere between five and ten minutes, nice bite-size little nuggets for easy consumption.

Cheers, and happy listening!


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