what are you going to do.

guggenheim 07/11

rourke #3. the peoples as time-occupiers

Those who occupy your time,
occupy your mind.

Those who occupy your mind,
occupy your reality.

Those who occupy your reality,
become part of you.

Quite important indeed, to pay attention to who you're spending time with.

gdubs

familiar bridges

greenwich strands

rourke #2

It's 2 a.m. and I am standing on a line in Baltimore to ask James Petz a question. Thirty minutes later it's finally my turn. I plan to go easy on him at first.

I look at James Petz and say, "James, what's the meaning of life?"

James looks at me and says, "Don't be an asshole."

I say, "James, why do anything?"

James says,"For the experience."

"Anything for the experience?"

James Petz pauses briefly, looks at me and says, "As long as you're not an asshole."

But he had reckoned without a force that, while nourished at first by vanity, overcomes disgust, contempt, even boredom: it is habit.

what i've been working on

check it.

happy happy anniversary

wowee, we're nearly two years old now.

and then we wait and see what happens

An early july storm suddenly appears out of nowhere, knocking out my home's electricity and providing a pleasantly violent soundtrack to my current disposition.

after some minutes, i send out an offering of a fleeting sensation:

clouds suddenly crack, spilling ferociously over bewildered soil as thunder roars sporadically, unprovoked. beautiful gift indeed, the summer storm.

these beautiful individuals reciprocate, wrapping up unique consciousness in brief arrangements of words.

r.- the hails falls with thuds
Thunder breaks the quiet night
A sweet summer song

f.- a gift indeed. embrace the showers as nurturers of our floral counterparts not as dampers on our worldly recreations. breathe. wonder. continue.

b.- that was beautiful my dear. Storm hasn't reached me yet but i do love them. This afternoon there was a sunshower it was glorifying

t.- Cracked clouds, suddenly ferocious, bewilder the soil as thunder roars over the beautiful - unprovoked. The summer storms sporadic.

be.- You have sticky eyes

j.-A blue haze in the purple mist. Do my eyes gaze upon another ship? Trees crack shivering timbers. Has it passed until morn? Or is this the eye of the storm?
r.- another weezer song?

m.- Indeed the sky alights with mystical blue flame. Spurnned by the heat and humidity of only a summers day, the wind and rain wipe the sweat from mothers brow

p.- Yes.

d.-Mittenchops hair and thunderbang tattooed on mom's arms.

c.p-Massive orgasm in the sky now we breathe semen


minds shine through,
the night is young yet.

rourke #1

"I want you to cut down this tree."

Rourke blinked. The tree Mor wanted him to cut down looked to him about twenty feet high and around twice his own age. Underneath the bushy conifer, thick branches obscured the gray clouds above. "The whole thing?"

"All of it. And when you're done, cut up all the branches into smaller pieces. Otherwise they won't pick up the wooden corpse from the curb."

Rourke's eyes darted from the tree, to Mor, then back to the tree. He paused. "Don't you want to say bye?"

"What do you mean?"

"This tree has been here longer than you have," Rourke replied.

Mor considered what Rourke said. "Ok, ok. Bye."

"Just like that?"

"You've never cut a tree down before, have you?"

Mor was right. Rourke had not.

fourth of july in four images