Saturday, May 31, 2008

Sunken Ruby

Rudolph: Where's it housed?

Adolph: In the deep tide. I tossed it over.

Rudolph: Hasty fellow.

Adolph: Couldn't bear the heavy nostalgia.

Rudolph: She gave it to you years ago.

Adolph: When my feelings were much more raw.

Rudolph: Still there's been decades.

Adolph: And a deeper hole.

Rudolph: The pain the oyster feels to make a pearl, I'd think you'd at least appreciate that and move on.

Adolph: The pain I felt to paint her portrait, and she burned it in the oven to roast a suckling pig.

Rudolph: She found function. All you found was sheer avoidance.

Adolph: I couldn't bear it.

Rudolph: The economy won't forgive this easy. Emotional signifcance does not overshadow the worth. If you sold it to the Mongolians as was advised, our empire could have persevered.

Adolph: That ruby sunk the face of our empire long before. I hate her and it clouds my ability to strategize. We cornered our selves.

Rudolph: You cornered your self and with it, incarcerated the movement you started.

Adolph: My stomach pains me.

Rudolph: You should eat.

Adolph: I carved off a chunk of ruby and swallowed it, the day before I threw it to the Caspian Sea. Every morning I feel it trying to digest, but the gash worsens.

Rudolph: My god.

Adolph: I cannot digest a morsel ever again.

Rudolph: So the bitch won.

Adolph: No, we go down together.

Friday, May 30, 2008

Live Stuff, New To Witness


Infinite Broil

Han: The deep dish has no flavor.

Jas: This morning we drained that tank of MSG.

Han: Who saw about the refill?

Jas: I thought that was attached to your responsibilities.

Han: Task master pile driver grunt. Piss poor assumptions. No! NO! No! That was attached to your goddamn responsibilities.

Jas: Judith mentioned you were doing it.

Han: I didn't even know it was low!

Jas: People don't seem to notice the deep dish is flat.

Han: Deep dish is filler without punch of taste, even you know that.

Jas: Even I know that...

Han: Mediocrity always seems to prevail on your shifts.

Jas: You think I'm a ree ree?

Han: No comment.

Jas: Take the easy way out chief.

Han: You have 30 seconds to finish that deep dish or your butt is getting fired.

Jas: When the tanker comes to fill the MSG pool, I will spike it with gasoline.

Han: You plan to burn the place down?

Jas: No. No flame. Just poison.

Friday, May 23, 2008


God: Take a shot of me.

Chad: It won't focus proper.

God: Can't handle my good looks.

Chad: No, I'm sure I can, just have to play the knob here.

God: I must have broken the camera with my good looks.

Chad: Naw, you ain't that good looking.

God: Come again?

Chad: Nothing.

God: You don't honor me, son.

Chad: I do, I do, I was just joshin.

God: I've taken humor out of nature, what does that do for your equation?

Chad: Leaves me rather speechless.

God: What do you think of me?

Chad: I love you.

God: Honesty is what I ask for at this point.

Chad: I love you.

God: My thunder and lightning are in the off position, I won't strike you down, speak as though to your hombre or buddy.

Chad: Well, you're opacity is low due to your omnipresence, therefore getting a shot of you is impossible. And it's frustrating.

God: I really want a photo.

Chad: I know you do.

God: This moment is priceless and you're ill-prepared.

Chad: My equipment isn't capable of handling.

God: I knew you wouldn't be able to handle me.

Chad: It's my equipment and you're low opacity.

God: It's excuses.

Chad: I find I can't talk to you.

God: Most can't.

Tuesday, May 20, 2008

Kangaroos Drowning Dogs

Wounded Bandit: The rancid outlook of your survival does not fare well in my brother's woods.

Crippled Crook: And dare the triple threat of my balls to challenge this assumption?

Wounded Bandit: Best wishes puny sally.

Crippled Crook: You'll wake with a dragon fly stuffed in your jammies.

Wounded Bandit: What a suggestion! You assume I still wear the footies of a kiddie. I sleep buck naked now pops.

Crippled Crook: What do you say about those dapper slippers Queen?

Wounded Crook: Easy enough to drop a stock of bank notes on subtle fashion. No biggie when you're a stealthy victor.

Crippled Crook: Don't hustle those bills too quickly for your own fast twitch, wouldn't want a hundo to rip a paper cut on your index finger.

Wounded Bandit: Pipe tight the water hole shut.

Crippled Crook: This is just where this discourse belongs. Fragile. Icy. Riproarin'.

Wounded Bandit: Simmer the challenge and focus on necessity brosef.

Crippled Crooks: Comes smooth from the lips of a second rate.

Wounded Bandit: I read in the news that the winner of the Continental Wiener Wurst Eating Contest suffered a rupture in his belly and spilled guts into the Golden Bowl.

Crippled Crook: Study nature, gimpy, for you can observe the dog chase the kangaroo bearing his wicked bite. And the dog might have more endurance for foot speed, but the kangaroo knows how to buy time by luring the doggy to a bog. Wading in the murky splash splash, the kangaroo pins the doggy head under the ripple's density and soon revels in the choke, gurgle, and gone limp doggy in the flotsam.

Wounded Bandit: Notice how I've called you doggy from the get go?

Monday, May 12, 2008

The Green Park

{Dream Log 5.11.08}

Leaving the apartment complex, where the landlord hollared at me. He was doing some work, and I tried to help organize his orange extension cords, tangled and littering the hall way.

"Why do you feel the need to help Squirt!"

Down the creaking, wooden steps, I held Magdalene's hand. Outside the warm sun, and chirping birds freshened me up. Passing by the elevated train tracks, I noticied a park I had not seen before. Stretching down for some ways, luscious greens, hedges, ponds, ferns, palms, moss, contrasted with singing vibrancy next to the brick and concrete surroundings. A glorious patch that seemed to extend and open a portal with the urban stage. A deep valley to disappear from the city horns. Small yet expansive, it soothed the idea of retreat. I pulled Magdelena closer, brushed aside her brunette curls and brought my lips to her ears.

"What do you say we grab some take out and have a lovely picnic in the park? I've never, after all this time here, explored the little patch of greenery by the train."

Magdelene tightened and froze.

"No, no, my friend told there is a problem with gangs hiding in that spot."

"Well, let's put an end to that problem."

Thinking I would dial the police to get it patrolled, I pulled out my cell phone and flipped it open.

"Do you think stationing police here will make it feel any more peaceful for me?" She asked.

I did not have an answer. We walked a little further and watched sail boats on the blue sea.

Sardine Lethargy

Rookie: Why is one of your legs fatter than the other?

Novice: You always get your kicks out of pointing out defects?

Rookie: Just curious. Never seen anything like it before.

Novice: I was raised not to feel shame and hide my legs in baggy pants.

Rookie: So you flaunt your deformity by wearing short shorts?

Novice: And you flaunt your pock marks by not wearing a mask?

Rookie: Didn't mean to pick a fight.

Novice: Didn't mean to be on the defensive.

Rookie: You hungry?

Novice: I could use a bite.

Rookie: Take our lunch.

Novice: I didn't bring one.

Rookie: We can hit a cafe.

Novice: No, can't do that until this first pay check clears.

Rookie: I have some cans of sardines. I'll share.

Novice: I will use a twig to stab a little sardine to pop in my mouth. My fingers are a little muddy and I don't wish to spoil the contents of your can.

Rookie: I will help you find a good twig. And I will find one for myself because my fingers are also muddy.

Novice: Well, it's the work we do.

Rookie: Muddy work.

Novice: When it needs to get done.

Wednesday, May 7, 2008


Clone: Down right just snatching mate.

Imposter: Thanks.

Clone: You ever let me wear your shoes, I show you how to dance real.

Imposter: Just the same, thanks, not interested in flashin' a flaw.

Clone: Not a flaw if you know you're bad.

Imposter: Strange advice, let's get back inside, I burn bad.

Clone: You're pink.

Imposter: I already knew that. I can feel it.

Clone: I never burn.

Imposter: You coming in or not?

Clone: I think I'll take off a bit down the street, maybe I'll swing back in awhile for supper.

Imposter: Knock, this door will be locked.

Clone: I hear ya mate.

Clone: No doorbell?

Imposter: No doorbell, not in this city.

Clone: Right mate, a ding ding ring ring will bust a train of thought.

Imposter: I like that you understand, means your head is in the game.

Clone: The true bread is not from the ground.

Tuesday, May 6, 2008

Exit Strategy

George: That explosion really dunged me up.

Jorge: Don't let it get to you... get to you friend. That's when it gets bad.

George: Wasn't expecting him to be that sensitive. Really dunged me up.

Jorge: I understand it dunged you up friend. What a fucking experience. But don't forget I paid for your ticket to get the hell out of here, which you tore up and made a show of it flittering in the wind, friend.

George: That explosion really dunged me up, goddamnit, don't fucking blame me now.

Jorge: Meng, you could have not been here for that explosion.

George: I'm not like you.

Jorge: I'm not like you, friend.

George: We both value our lives but approach consequences differently.

Jorge: Surely you learned something from what you got yourself into.

George: Don't have time for this kind of talk.

Jorge: What is your exit strategy now?

George: Goddamn chief, that explosion really dunged me up.