Tuesday, May 27, 2008

one nod, one quick rumple

chapter ONE.

We engendered an experience of wedded bliss in the jungle of the hindbrain occurring at a blotchy man. Would cupped memories, like too-eggy pancakes, send me into a feedback loop that takes it troubled?

glass cats practice fast action
white mews place foot now
to an immediate kicking virgin wail
penik don't pink papered vase window

Also, only Jessica journaled at length to prove herself a woman. At last she fell asleep, with a note attached to a pair of socks at fact.

you have enormous ways of giving it embers
you take enormous fruits of giving it embers
you blame enormous fruits of cupping me glumly
you blame French fruits for cupping me glumly

never entrust French fruits for cupping me glumly
never entrust French parrots for swapping me glumly

I entrust dirty parrots for swapping religions glumly

Indeed, it tells nicely of the trials of persecution that would serve as a permanent reminder of the past time-line in which a woman in her mid-to-late-forties could ever do long-division.

chapter TWO.

bite sized pins plaque
the whites pointing three eyes ax
a bustle shoots los hombres down
men clutch their revolving belts
turn grape my chaste brown

I invoke dirty people for swapping religions glumly
I invoke mangy people for true religions glumly

For in a blotchy male, a wand isn't really as important as the size of the conch.

chapter THREE.

I invoke mangy laws for true religions glumly

erogenous sunflower on my basket napkin
(take it in) or be fluidly on your chair crotch
cherish your liquid intake valve
worship my everlasting sacks now!

I invoke mangy laws for true criminals glumly

my forever feet as Gods to you
blanket entity at the sun's wake
dying button people dressed as ghost parodies
the blouse became fastened during a scare-a-thon

I adore blasphemous laws for true criminals laughing

chapter FOUR.

So, I focused to evacuate my every dream in the illusion of the self during surgical standing painful parties. While the guru was taming a wild tiger, he noticed that by retouching himself a wormhole could open up into several deciabysses. I wondered timely in a non-directional reflection of hubris, what vibration spoke first.

pooing iron teeth & wine tops
basic need steel nail engine -> give it the throttle
inclined fundament: inject your best
do the fun -> shake it baby, wipe it clean
milkcircles & we must have a good young time
when the pearly shoots I go duck & cover!

Motivationally speaking, pepper & salt were used to combine a clever sketch of people's feet. I wanted to show them in a wonderland journey.

dollarsign buttonbeater, the terrible now
fortune hammershroom, a task maker
producing must-do mushrooms & wheels
fucking right now! on clouds & mandalas

We adore blasphemous laws & true criminals laughing

chapter FIVE.

entrenched & under fire, I in turn quack
deep in WWI I set myself alight to nestle beak
flaming one-eyed, fallen into a petri dish
cyclops boinked, on a hydrogen pit
great penetration by elemental pedal
go go go granny get the metal, cAke inserts

your smoky transformed back, instantly obscene
don't blow rings around blatant panels
onions negate the obvious floor tiles

delicious ape chips, this lady ships tippy top priority
swell garden elfs, this bitch wants more, damn!

lined locks away painful vessel squares
traindoor exit my tangled veiny sores
(oh my!) my backdoor still works just fine

unquenchable patriarch, growing Napoleonic
small man, unable to perform, gallant inner treasure
soulthing impotent
nude beach / convent
take your sandies to a given nunnery

approving with fervor the rump
one nod, one quick rumple

chapter SIX.

We stared at the apex on the cardinal circuit.

men adore childish poems & true evils laughing
men adore fake metaphysics & true evils laughing
men enjoy fake metaphysics & cultivate evils laughing

It fishes itself straightaway to only this, the very this, this thing the most well-known & feared of all things, the very top.

~a spiced something by Scott Marshall & Nim.

Sunday, May 25, 2008

Dave & Casey Hooray!

In just an hour & a half, my good friends Dave & Casey (plan to) get hitched. Wow!

In honor of their wedding (& for my own entertainment), I wrote them an Oulipian wedding poem incorporating only th letters in their names. Th first stanza uses only th letters in "David Camille Shaver"; th second uses only th letters in "Casey Jean Chapman"; th third & final stanza combines th letters in both names. I hid th wedding poem in th card accompanying their gift for them to find & enjoy.

I doubt very much they will peek at my blog between now & th wedding, so I will go ahead & copy th poem over right here to share w/ all th rest of you:

He delivers several limes; she smiles, he smiles. A miracle cradles a dreamhead. Hi! - a decade slides, shimmers. Revive!

She maps a happy name. Space! A snappy jam, a May ham! She chases a span. Hey - campy, cheesy psyche - YES!

Holy Moley! She marries him (and vice versa). Named as a diad, dearly spliced, he and she parade. Prepared? Yes. I see a shine: dreamers: sacred, alive. In riches, in pennies, in decades ahead, may my pals happily dance. Mr. Chapman. Mrs. Shaver. Live in a jade heaven.

Thursday, May 22, 2008


[ =@@ Kame :: Seven Death ]

the vociferous rationalizations strove the hereditary offering
the architectural cargoes retook the unpaid round
the departmental magician sang the ventricular memorandum
the genuine genes begat the tectonic emotion
the factual programmers ate the migratory livestock
the vertical statues drank the merciless warhead
the irritable compost became the precautionary 50-yard-stick
the unpretentious milliseconds sprung the lucid Titan
the bouncy alderman grew the impolite suburbia
melodious cereals mistook the interactive easel

Wednesday, May 21, 2008

composing my future

[ =@ Kan :: Six Snake ]

Bigthing. My universe will soon change in kaleidoscopic shake-a-doo. Yes - in fact, YES!

I will soon move th heck out of Chicago & downstate to a place called Urbana, IL. I will take my dog & my Cumbus, my pockets & my dice, & I will leave Chicago behind - at least - for a time.

Why oh why? I will tell you. They have this school there called School for Designing a Society. Artists come together here to question this place-time we live in & begin imagining a better society - then making it manifest. It seems to me that all my raving about Art in th Everyday, Agnosticism, Mythwandering et cetera have led me to a very lonely place. Down in Urbana, at this unique school, people think about these things, play w/ them, inspire each other, & make them real.

Anyway, by September I will have relocated - temporarily or not, I don't know yet. But I can't stay here. It just won't do.

I will of course share my happenings w/ you, as they happen. I know only a few things now, but good things.

There you have it then.
Much love,


Monday, May 19, 2008

Wednesday, May 14, 2008

little song upside

I like this poem greatly a bunch:

See this stuff here.

Monday, May 5, 2008

we stood in Darks

[ @@@ Toj :: Three Thunderpain ]

Report to you I will th fact that I had fun in Darks! I (& friend Vinnie) appeared at a party hosted by Gothic Funk in Hyde Park in Chicago! Th concept: party in th Dark! Sun down, lights out, windows covered. Th exception: wearable light permitted! Bits of hovering humanlight went to & fro. I donned round punchlight as medallion, w/ initials NN to identify appropriated Self during performancetime. Which happened.

As Nim, I played a funtimes set in th dark, unplugged, mandogasmically fancylike! People did claps, taps, beats, & grand singalongery; I enjoyed an audience thus engaged in Jamtype betweens! Indeed, my people had heard of Eris (All Hail Discordia, mhftee!) & song-poems (I played 'Pink Roses Palace' & 'Jimmy Carter Says Yes' for an appreciative bunch of Happies)!

I did a bit of wanders in dark to meet people whose faces I could only guess at th identifying details of. People seemed kind & interesting, fans of stuffed sharks, statistics, quantum physics, half nakedness, etc.

Sol Truck

I should mention also th very excellent band that played second: Sol Truck, a marvelously strange & lovely set of Eastern Europeans! They did songs w/ accordion, slide whistle, guitar, [tiny] keyboard, Jews' harps & lots of fun vocalizations (grunts, shouts, sings, giggles). I loved them & wish I'd had a chance to chat chat chat w/ them after their set. Another time! Hooray for Sol Truck.

Now I have shared my times w/ you.

Much love & Coconothingness,
AndR Q Nim