20 October 2006


What worship do we have
when faces are secondary?
What span of millennia is registered
and voted for as the most beautiful?

Everything modern becomes inconsequential-
the focus of happiness fades, people become real.
Stereotypes fail and fall away
as hours melt, the past a clear blur.

Facades crumble into pebbles, dust
and even I become vacant, superficial.
Reality becomes itself unguised
and intrigue vanishes into folklore-
all mystery needed nevermore.

-Both the poem and the painting were done in July of 1998 by yours truly-


  1. Very cool; I especially like the painting. But I wonder what is primary?

  2. Nothing personal, you know that, but...poems bore the fuck out of me. There's more to life than fucking poetry. I like to tell poetry mongers to get a fucking imagination of their own and go out and DO instead of fucking reading about someone else's bullshit adventures.

    I bought The 12th Planet eight (8!) months ago and I'm still reading it. Some would say I don't have the ability to sit down and read. I would say I'm too busy getting gnarly with massive men of Czechoslovakian descent.

    I don't hate those who read. I hate those who devote all their free time to it. They are whores. And their feet smell real bad.

  3. Sometimes, too, they have some sort of green growth underneath their toenails too, also, and as well. Go Czech!

  4. ToeJob? I wonder what that tastes like.