Poem #108

I found a cat in your parachute,
a bridge ruin Jehovah standing electric
Against a concrete wall,
Street journaling the American cancer.

Inch thick skin is the best.

Jedi master bedroom with a Sociopath landlord, better than me in your square foot garden,
dead in a Westside Story switchblade rumble,
travesty deed signed by a cruel notary public.

Crocheted by hand, a shroud of my own,
forged over a long day at the Artist mill,
a shill to will never made real, buried in the
Utility bills and the gunslinger cigarette,
Gunning for half formed thoughts.

I recall that there were few tickets left for
The train ride back to the American dream,
Most of us having awakened, midstream,
Gleaned the most recent version is a scheme
Falling apart at the seams, reeking of fear,
Barkeep two more motherfucking beers.

Inch thick skin should be just fine,
But Kevlar gets cheaper by the hour.
Jehovah Kenobi, you’re my only hope.

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Studies or perhaps end products….?

I recently remembered an old technique for generating compositions that involves making collages and combing them for scenes using a 2 inch or so viewfinder. I loved doing this many years ago and it still seems valid. Here are a couple examples that I may turn into some woodcuts or etchings or…..something.

Gallery

[Boxxed] series

This gallery contains 9 photos.

This series of drawings is executed while my hand, the materials, and the paper are inside a cardboard box. I draw or paint for an indeterminate amount of time, relative to my interest alone in the current execution, while reading a book, or listening to music, or watching a film. It is not to be […]