scraps of litter
like they have a
mission to distract
from the vague commissary indiscretions
plaguing our unions and,
generation of handicraft hamburglars
and overwrought Jangle-Changle Men——
while they can still stand
Chili leaks all over the seat,
failing to save itself
for a more opportune moment.
At times I’ll see that incontinence
and laugh, comforted
by my own relative regularity.
But when the cowbell strikes 10PM
and you’re losing your marbles
at a steady rate, none of these things
matter anymore. All you can do is
gesture wildly at the skies
with the hope of retrieving
that golden beacon of self-doubt
from the prickly impersonator of human emotion.
He’s been around a long time,
a real long time (if you want to get technical).
His name is inconsequential, for
one must only conjure his essence
to perpetuate his unholy regime.
Tempered by the blunt end
of a stainless steak knife,
throttled by a lack of anything
interesting to say–
say, how’s that weather?
Primary’s coming up,
don’t trust any of those clowns;
the whole system’s downright screwy anyway.
Can’t get behind those corporations
parading around as individuals,
CEOs making their dirty millions.
Can’t keep up this smalltalk,
I just want to scream
at those crows hopping
over there. Who told them
they could have fun
while I’m around?
I can’t stand it
when others enjoy themselves,
especially animals. I can’t
tell them off
like I can a human, not that
I make it my business
to harass people.
The closest I’d ever get
would be a stoic monologue
about the nature of the universe
and its tendency to dissolve
without a moment’s notice.
I can make many a soul
with that shrapnel language,
if you can believe it.
Deputy Dan was a crime-solving man,
went to church, ate an apple a day.
He never did wear his wits on his sleeves,
mostly stood alone guarding the town
after Sheriff McClintock befuddled the press
and just vanished one fine autumn evening.
He sent occasional postcards,
Dan laughed at the palm trees and lake bluffs,
seething under the pressure heaped upon him;
but a crime-solving man is a crime-solving man,
and his badge meant his promise to the people.
One line is all it takes to fill a page.
I may have to make wallpaper with this type of pattern.
That’s it for tonight. Y’all’ve been swell.
Can you find the two ends of this line? I made them fairly obvious if you know what to look for.
If you can stand to follow them, be my guest. Start from one end and see if you can reach the other.
I call this one Beltway because it was the first word that came to mind.
It’s on an 11×14 sheet in a snazzy sketchbook.
Pardon the low-quality file and strange lighting and weird shadows.
I won’t complain if you don’t.
Honestly, if I start to upload things this way, you’re going to get sick of my drawings.
Not because of the image quality, but because of the frequency of those uploads.
I doodle a lot. On a lot of different things.
Well, I hope you don’t (whoever you are).
This drawing reminded me of a shrub or topiary. Then I realized my affinity for our leafy friends. I’m going to keep that idea in my head when I draw, so as to structure my compositions while remaining spontaneous.
If that makes sense.
I guess the drawing doesn’t always have to be framed perfectly so long as it’s able to be seen.
I take for granted the beauty of imperfection,
And I wish I had more patience with myself.
That being said, this is a big step.
This is among my very favorites. I used a Uniball Jetstream pen, as perfect a writing utensil as I’ve ever encountered.