ahhh... back in Utah once again. I really need to keep up with this blog; sadly it's been neglected too many times and I fear it may begin to get slightly angry at my constant oversight. Alas.

I'm working now, so i can't write much, but I felt it prudent to post a tiny poetic spurt that I wrote in an email to my friend Val while I was killing some time in the Bismarck Municipal Airport waiting to leave for Denver, and then SLC, yesterday afternoon. I hope things are going festively amazing in your neck of the woods, reader, and that the skies are as sunny where you are as they are here.

---------------------------------

the airport drill

9/27/05

so i'll write you a poem!
but my head is a little clogged
like a tugboat in a fog
or a business-traveling mother worked dead like a dog
yet suprisingly i can rhyme
(perhaps for a time)
since my head shallow and slumped as can be
might really be a little stronger than me
and a bit more awake to boot
for moments like these alas are made
for the trees - o to be
just outside for a bit, in a place of peace
(peas)
and mashed-potato sunset sleep!
not this airport that smells of nothing
the way hospitals do
like they're hiding the pain
away from our noses
but not far enough from our fearful inquisitions,
us back to children patients of the dentist –
and the chiseled smiles and drilled-out eyes
enameled before me in the stonefacade faces gathered 'round me
whir
like
drills
tiny and
loud
and steal away the sleep i need.

god made a mistake

9/14/05

unfortunately, god was fallible.
the christian god most people know
found herself in a spot so tight
and unsure of a kingly course of action she
resorted to intuition and instinct, so fallible
as she should have known, for
she designed the Human.

alas, she created something
so vile and evil that it would Undo her
like the satan prophesized, no more than
fiction, but reality at her hands -
hatred, jealousy, ineptidude, and insecurity
all rolled into a jelly-roll pastry of peril
that served to destroy its very maker!
a paralyzing treat delivered to such a
willing and unsuspecting cafe patron her holiness...

alas, god took a bite
and died.
she fell over, dead, with a mute thump,
and no-one heard her soft cry.
no-one saw the et-tu look in her eyes
or felt her icy sadness as it drifted from her dying lips.
they looked the other way.

as we all would,
as you would,
because when we're drunk it's easier, softer, more comfortable

it offers the least resistance

and that's what you love, isn't it
when you're hunting your god?

sentenced to this

9/12/05

blindly away again she turned and smoothly ignored
the singing of the birds and the way my eyes foresaw
my further fall down this path, the rocky course
away from her
but, oh!
thank the heavens it's a familiar road
for i've been this way it seems
and suprise me not it would
if i were to walk its cobbled surface again
in a slow stride of sad, sullen steps
into the beaming face
of a great western something
or a smaller winter nothing
either way a wash it is, it turns up the same
the lightning-bolt of hatred telling the world i won't take her back
now, never, i'm finally done
until tomorrow

the girl, such a waste she was!

9/8/2005

poetic bliss, a touch of this
will collapse into rhymes
for a dime
mere pennies for my time
as your wish my kiss turns to vinegar from wine
like the stench of this evening so fine
starched crisp like sheets
of bastard-spawn swampsong
breathed throatily out by a crocodile throng
the sound and rush and smell
so strong
you can hardly bear it
like a fire on the mountain

and as stubborn as your desire may it crumble
like rocks loosened from the burnt roots of
the old growth forest
and may that wicked want so bent from sadness
crack upon the earth below, dusty like
your words and dull

who would have guessed

8/19/05

will this morning light bring
the memory of her back
the way she came to me in the
blue wet night
dancing with the raindrops?

her hair fell down like lively ropes
and she had me
tied up and strung up
under the night
in her tangle of snakes
and those two eyes
(slitted-like)
beneath it lit up the night with
an evil fire!

from her mouth issued
a tongue neatly forked
tasting the air and my lust
and as she bent down
to take
my life
with a parting of her lips
I knew
this was the way
I wanted it to be

I'm going to bed. i have no clue what the fuck i just wrote.

sleep well and dream of lots of hot sex.

jumbledaya

8/16/05

as I sit here tonight before a time of slumber
doubtfully serene yet calling
things become blended in my head
like eggs and flour and sugar and stuff
a hotcake in my skull, part of a complete
headbreakfast
of salesmen cozily wrapped in sausages and
boxcars in barbeques –
hamburgers, mere hamburgers
the voice of death on the battlefield
the cries of the fallen like the mice
under
my
bed
who leave
grain
and turds
piled high
like kingly rats
who slide along
inside their rat-busses
made of ice
commuting to the office
in the dead
of summer

(don’t you love
the way
the cold feels?)

the rats do

o, to instead become fond of the english cuisine

8/16/05

so much of the time
the things I spy around me
end up having this crispy
Cajun-like
flaky charred coating covering
their cool calm insides
hiding away their delicate clockwork tickings
like a rustedshut musicbox

what you see
is not what you see
but only that
which you see

because
for me

only Cajun-style trust
will do
on my plate –

for a flavor burned through and through
I can only send back
to the kitchen
in a fury of disgust

My tongue is back in order! This pleases me a lot. Ladies, i know it's tough, but please try to restrain yourselves.

Tonight's been a good night. Beer at Zan's, and Frangelico cokes at my house. And plenty of socializing with Zan and Kris and their family. And, to top all that off, I'm back to writing! Granted, it's a bit choppy, but sometimes these things happen. I'm not the most pleased with my latest ramblings, but they seem complete in their own right, so i guess i'll leave them as-is and keep writing and posting.

I hope you've had a wonderful Friday night, reader, and dream sweetly tonight.

-----------------------------

perhaps I was wrong all along

8/6/05

we were
in
the flashes and the heat that night
just me
and the fluorescent gay man
from new york
sitting in front of me
first class MSP to SLC -
the air turbulent we sailed over
was the desire in his smile
and the bolts of lightning that shot down
to the earth below us
were like that longing in his eyes
as he glanced into mine
wondering
wishing
and hoping
in the way that
a pink-clad strapping lad
would do
when looking upon
such a fine man
as myself

alas, my cold that night
was the chill of the wind at such a height – freezing and
deathly bleak
against the heat and fury of the light
and I felt bad for the chill was not mine
but of the sleep I was missing
and the extremity of the moment;

thunderstorms from cruising altitude
over Wyoming, for someone like I
are rare events
and I meant no harm to the man
who simply wanted to have a little
fun
be himself
and fuck my brains out

he was a genuinely pure soul
and could have been a wonderful friend to me
(certain sexual discrepancies aside)
but sleep
and that pulsing throbbing flashing from the south
were sadly more important
than a rare man’s heart

backtrack

8/4/05

if only the world would stop
and forget how to tie its shoes
and have to start over again
like a sick and nervous little
five year old girl
on the first day
of kindergarten

then,
perhaps,
we could have our clean slate

then,
perhaps,
we could all
have peace and smile

and be free of the chalk of our
ancestors, the scribblings that
lock us in like black prison bars –
white lines strong as steel
yet weak like a child’s
shoelaces
tied round and tight by her parents

Yeah, i got rear-ended today, so that was fucking awesome! And had some unexpected oral surgery, too, so let's hear it for not being able to eat without getting a mouthful of blood with your vegan cheese!

mmmmmmmm!

Sorry if I sound a wee disgruntled, but it's been one of those days. Anyone want to get wasted?

Something i just sent into a user forum on the Bismarck Tribune website, where everyone is getting all horny and shit over the fact that a bunch of "big-box" retailers are coming to Bismarck - such things as Best Buy, Kohl's, Lowe's, the Home Depot, etc:

"More than big-box retailers, Bismarck would benefit far more from an enhanced downtown district. The area sadly lacks in culture - one reason I decided to move away to Salt Lake City - and a downtown district that had more local and unique dining options, artisan galleries, and perhaps even a live music venue would be something highly attractive. I worry that with an influx of big-box retailers comes the sickening urban sprawl I see time and time again in growing cities (SLC, sadly, no exception), and I would hate to see Bismarck caught up in the homogenization of culture that occurs with such a boom as we might experience. We can strengthen our own unique city, or let it fall into obscurity amongst every other city that's full of Ruby Tuesday restaurants and GAP clothing stores. Which would you rather choose?"

hundred thousand miles

7/21/05

distance died
the day i learned i had feet
and could hobble across the land
at a toddler's wobble
in persuit of new adventures to the west -
a little intrepid explorer heeding the words of Greeley,
off to meet the setting sun

it still dies, twenty-one years later
every time I ride the wind in mechanical miracles
above snowdrift mountains of cloud
as I guide my car through
gobs of traffic slow as clots of glue
and as i send my pain through
the abstract passages I
cast as waves and electrons to heaven

but, oh, distance comes back, lurching like the undead
every time i peek inside
you
and feel the fear
you wrap around your shoulders
like a soft blue velvet shawl
on fire
or a molten rayon costume, that happy hollow facade
which seals away
that beautiful self
i rarely get to see

state street

7/20/05

what a
fragrant wet night
it was! thick with the scent of the
storms on the horizon and the hidden vapor
of the river slow and lazy in the twilight,
the streets alive, sweeping and slithering
across a
pulsing
verdant
great plains village,
rattlesnakes gorged and glistening
in a city overgrown, screaming its ten o'clock July orgasm
to the sky, that bruised and jilted
sacred starkeeper
in bloated heavy love with a full smiling moon

and oh, i'd have fucked existence
if i could, right there,
in the moist air and
darkening night,
in the middle of the street,
but, as it be, i'm just
a bit too small
for something
that
massive
and potent,
if you get
what i mean

Well holy fucking shit... it's been forever since i've posted! That seems to happen a lot with me, and try as a might to keep a regular journal, those efforts seem to fall apart like so much rotten thread in an ancient forgotten shawl.

I've been thinking about stuff lately, however, as Goats generally do, and it felt appropriate this morning to take a small break and share a few thoughts. Ever since last night, I've been focusing a lot on the concept of missed oppportunities. Perhaps as I get older I begin to realise more consciously that our time in this existence is indeed limited, and how shameful and almost sacreligious it seems to not follow what seems in the flow - to not make the most out of the wide array of opportunities that life presents you every day. I'm just as guilty as the next person in a lot of ways - part of me really feels drawn to Guatemala, for example, and i feel like if i really honored the flow and did what i could, i'd sell it all and move down there and dedicate my life to helping those less fortunate succeed in a world that doesn't apparently give a flying fuck about them. Alas, i continue to sit here in Utah, coding and jamming to Dave Matthews Band live in Central Park, thinking about those things i've missed out on, and the things that other people i know have missed out on, too. The things they could have had, but chose not to.

What gets me is that in a lot of those instances, the things that people can have are fucking amazing, and in all reality, awfully easy to obtain. But people get so scared by the prospect of it actually happening, i think - of this thing actually becoming true in their lives - that they get stuck like a deer in the headlights of possibility and turn the other way and go back to the life they find easy, familiar, and less unsettling, because it's ultimately the path of least resistance and is known already. They fall back into that life because it takes less effort than trying for something better, and it's less risky than going out on a limb and facing the unknown. Because, perhaps, they feel there would be less dissapointment, pain, and anguish if they went out on a limb and it snapped... and they fell on their face. But what is worse, living a life that fills your head with "what-if"s on your deathbed, or risking your comfort to live the happiest you ever could? You can wander lazily through your half-life, a shallow, meek trek through this adventure at our doorstep, or you can become consciously aware of what makes you the happiest, you can identify what will fulfill you the most, you can live for your happiness, your heart, and push with all you have for that thing that will blow your mind, fry your circuits, and shake up your current life, leaving you dazed and smiling, drunk and high on the life you have.

If you can go for it, why not? If there's nothing stopping you, what are you waiting for?

Have a pleasant Monday, reader, filled with smiles and chocolate and sunshine and stuff.

What the fuck, Joe? Why did you have to go do this?

http://edition.cnn.com/2005/LAW/07/05/idaho.children/

We would have all helped you, if you'd only have asked.

good god.. it's the 27th already. where the fuck has the time gone? not only has it been like a week or more since i've posted last, but good tapdancing christ, i've been out here for more than three months. wow..

people aren't shitting when they say time speeds up once you get out of school. before i know it, i'll be 80, old and shit and rocking out to Sigur Ros and Slayer. I'll be the coolest old dude ever.

anyways, i'm tired, and feeling blah, so i'm gonna shower up and hit the sack. after i post this latest poem. another one that blew in from somewhere close to nowhere. Sometimes those can be the coolest, but this one leaves a little to be desired, I think. However, it whispered that it's done, so here she be. Sleep well, reader, and dream of fun things like waterslides and marshmallows. (preferably the vegan variety, cause cow bones and pig skin just don't belong in a s'more, man - they belong on pigs and inside cows! gelatin... bah.)

-----------------------------------

the aluminum icarus cast down

6/27/05

as the aircraft falls from
the heavens above
and fire shoots
out of my hands
you’ll ask yourself
what does this
mean,
and why
does
it
matter?
and my fading eyes that fall
through
the
clouds
will answer back in an
empty voice, the nonresponsive
(de)affirmation, whatever you choose –
what you see
is the last of me
all you’ll ever see
riding the night
on silver scraps
of screaming failed flames

simply shallow (the deception of beauty)

6/15/05

so you think I could run?
you really believe I could
carouse away
and concoct the colors up to thirty one
in a solid smear the strength of the sun?

believe me
I could
but instead, if you’d have me
I believe I’d stay
for we’d together twist a string of the softest yarn
cord of the most sensual blue
from these fields of
soft white chances around us
we’ll twist
and tighten
and
fuck
I’m starving for those things

but they ain’t here

or there

or at the end of this run

but in the stare of the moonlight and the
hum of the sun;
they’re frozen
in the grace of your hand and the
the starburst of your pride;
they’re in the taste of your tales and
the sound of our
dreams
that echo about in
the silent chasm between us
as we stroll down the median
of a seven o’clock street
bearing the weight of the day
in our thoughts, sullen, sugar-glazed
and dipped
like
stale donuts
in cheap
murdered
coffee

Monday afternoon finds me sitting here chewing some Orbit gum and debugging my app in nothing but a pair of fuzzy gray shorts; these behemoth things called Pipes that came from Wal-Mart. Yes, i admit, i'll shop there once in a while, but it's only in a pinch, i swear! I needed shorts over a year ago to help facilitate effective spinning with Laura, and lo and behold ended up with these things, since it was the only store open at 10:30pm that sold anything remotely spinnable.

or so i thought.

Fleece shorts do not make effective spin-wear. let's just say one gets a wee uncomfortably hot.

But life isn't so bad, right now - i get to work in my homie shorts and blog and generally chill, which kicks ass. (evidently it actually does, since for some reason my right ass cheek has been hurting like a mofo all day long... but that's a whole 'nother story, reader.)

Alas, right now, i'm pathetically fucking bored. I'm cooped up here in my "office" for another two hours or so, and i'm getting down-right stir crazy. This absolutely stunning afternoon keeps whispering in my ear that I should come out and ride one of my bikes, but this gosh-derned program of mine just won't write itself these days. But the sky is so blue, the wind so calm, and the air just so fragrant that i can't help but imagine what it would be like to hit the singletrack with a vengance in about fifteen minutes. I guess i'll just have to hit that shit this afternoon when I decide to call it quits.

Part of me also really wants to get outdoors just so i can lay out for awhile. I'm still pathetically white (aside from the fierce farmer tan that i'm rocking, which is sooo hot - that's how i get the chicks) ... so a more even goat-tan is in order. But the bike so overrules that shit today; it's been since december since i've rode the war-horse anywhere. Road biking is fun, certainly, but it's nothing like mountain biking. And fuck, i'm in fucking Utah, reader - to not mountain bike or ski this state is sacrilege.

I feel like i'm done writing for now, i guess. Just more or less out of stuff to say. I could write plenty about the last trip to bismarck, i'm sure, but i'm on the fast track to getting over most of it, as i pretty much always do (i can't stay miffed to save my life), so ranting about shit in the past is probably, for the most point, pointless.

until next time, though, come, reader, let us frolic amongst the trees and bleat our little hearts out. stay happy and if you're feeling crappy, don't, cause that's not much fun.

this is not good.
i'm sitting
drunk
in my ex-girlfriend's bedroom
and her roommate

(who is watching
her mother's dog)

(and is, in all honesty,
amazing)

walked past me.

the dog,
even,
walked past me.

she smelled my hand
and in a fury of
distrust
and
disgust
turned her head
and walked
the other way

just as
they
always do.

and
always will;
for i'm
just the stinking drunk
stuck in a place
i can't even
bear to see
that i can't even
bear to notice
that i can't
grasp -

god, i'm frail
thin
wasted
emaciated
and i'll i'm searchin' for
is a bit of
food
something to
put a bit 'o meat
on my vegan bones
and tell me

(ever so
softly)

that i'm actually

the
shit

and that i matter
in this smatter
of crap
on the walls