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Bubblegumbo

Tuesday, March 18, 2014

vagabond vagabond

oh velvet rush of flesh, flesh & bone, skin & bone
kiss skin swimming starlight ocean
rush of green, green velvet, green fuse, flash of green, green skin, green flesh, flesh is grass, green grass, green glass, skin is glass, ocean flesh, glass & bone, fish & grass, oceanic, wash of green, green drop drop flesh in oceanbed awash in glass, drop of wash, rush of tide, wild tide, wild ride, flash of green, green grass rushing wild

bag o’ bones
bag o’ bones

oh luscious touch of silk
oh so lush, just us
web of silk, web of roots, moss encrusted, crusty mossy, roots & rutabaga, bag o’ bones, boney trees, oceanic, mossy crusty crabby cross, silken web, net of jewels, pearl & drop, drop of moss, velvet mess, lush & green, green & blue, bugaboo, bag o’ bones, brain of green, luscious blue silk skin mossy soft & velvet rush

vagabond, bag o’ tricks, wandering wave & aimless rootless rutabaga bag o’ skin & bones, coral bones, rain of glass, fuse of green green pulse of rushing moss encrusted net of jewels
fishing in the net
tangled in the web, web of dreams, starry night
oh velvet oceanic bed

sleeping in the rain of stars & wash of night
a night like silk & washing moss, pulsing fuse of green light, bright as coral stars
a deep dark sea of sleep

vagabond vagabond
on the sea of sleep
sleep
dream a dark night deep & green

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Monsters of the Id

Friday, March 7, 2014

From 3rd grade to 8th grade, I wrote, drew, and daydreamed lots and lots of comics. One character I created was Monster Man. (I’ve reproduced him here as best as I can remember him.) He was clearly inspired by the Hulk (a pretty prominent character for kids at the time), Forbidden Planet (a movie that made a big impact on me when my mother took us to see a showing of it on the big screen), and my own anxieties about being teased for being shorter and more sensitive than most other boys my age.Monster Man!

Monster Man was a shy, little guy named Tim Id. (Tim Id, get it? Get it?) When Tim was threatened, when he felt nervous or frightened, he would transform into some sort of huge monster, about twice the size of, say, Andre the Giant. The monsters tended to look like a cross between a dragon and an ogre or a smaller version of Godzilla. When I drew scenes with Monster Man becoming a monster, the bad guys were generally scared enough at the sight of him that there was no need for any actual fighting. The bad guys just ran away, drops of cartoon sweat flying off of them, and Monster Man never actually hit anyone.

I haven’t thought about little Tim Id much since middle school, but I still like his punny name and his simple costume. And while it’s been a long time since anyone tried to bully me, I can still call up the feelings of being threatened and teased, and I appreciate the power fantasy of Monster Man. ROOOOOAAAAAARRRRRRR!!!

Filed in comics, drawing, inspirations | | Comments (6)

Jump Cut

Thursday, March 6, 2014

i really wish i could
be the boy in that frame
the one in old-movie grey all manhattan-sharp
& paris-smooth the boy you constantly
study but instead i just
stand here quiet & small cudgeled by my
kansas banalities

& you dance
like a spider on fire i swear
i could never
move like that serpentine byzantine
gilded, glided, glad like a marionette
with no strings

but the scene
is over
that’s it, that’s
all & i got cut out
thrown to the floor i’ll
never be with you again
i’ll never be with
you again my only chance
gone

& it could be
cold it
could be dark but i guess
it’s not

i’m okay, i’m here in this
brilliant room with
my hands in the air
& my face in the
screen looking for traces of you

what do i hope
to find? a peace of
mind? a piece of time? a sign
of my important fate? it’s just
noise
& snow & the scent
of dust when i brush it away there’s
still more underneath
that’s it, that’s all & i fall
to the floor we’re alone
we’re alone we’re alone in
the world my
only glass half-full

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Burning Down the Candy

Tuesday, March 4, 2014

you are the glorious one
i can see through my
eyes the statue in the palace the
goddess in the temple the fire that burns
in the rainy night

& i’m walking down the street
in the middle of the day
trying to think of all the words
i can say to remind you of your
magic & strength to remind
you of your majesty
& grace

& if the world is blowing
up we can go dance in the mud
watching the world
burn down knowing that the
two of us will go on eternal & delirious

(cats see you as something sticky & sweet–
the bed sees you as something tasty to eat)

& if there’s blood on my hands
i’ll plant a forest
for you &
build a mountain to the
moon & turn into a tiger
prowling all around your rough edges bright-eyed &
breathing hot

yes!
you are the
radiant one i saw in my dreams
all through the
night every night (every night) all wrappedup
in leaves & moss & bearfur

& i’m dancing in your head
in the middle of the
night weaving my
enchanted alphabets down
on my knees
with my teeth in the clouds
down on my hands with my tongue
on your tattoo

& if the flowers in my
mouth turn to salt & sour sap
i’ll nail my thunder
to the walls of
your cave &
turn into a tiger prowling all
around your garden bright-eyed &
damp with starlight

& if the oceans are
all rising we can go dance in
the flood watching the
world go down knowing that
the two of
us will go
on & on & on & on & on…

–because you are sticky & sweet!

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Getting Busy With the Orange

Thursday, February 27, 2014

marmalade marmalade marmalade
i rub my hands together like
a fly thinking of love love love
unrestrained by the crests of
oceanic fears &
the cute hairdresser in the seashell
dress dreams outloud at night in shouts
& fits

marmalade marmalade marmalade
i’m in a terrible jam
because i’m the hepcat with
the comicbook heart my typographies
included in hightop scams &
faux attitude & it must be beautiful
to laugh in the face
of dying stars

& you twist like a licorice
louse & you tango like a dumptruck
so cool on the
street with your valentine brigade

marmalade marmalade marmalade
here comes the lovestained
brigade a cavalcade of cellular mitosis &
the cute hairdresser
from tiger mountain
leaps to my
citadel & asks me
about septicemia & the wonderful
empire of chairs her
aquatic lanterns at the ready

& you sing like a panda in
paris & you write poetry like a drunken
celt dancing in the night with your
marmalade marmalade marmalade…

Filed in poetry | | Comments (1)

Some Tools of My Trade

Wednesday, February 26, 2014

When it comes to writing prose, I’m pretty exclusively a computer user. Writing by hand is toooooo sllllooooooowww a process when it comes to getting stuff out of my head and onto a page.

But when it comes to jotting down ideas, writing things down so that I’ll remember them later (very important when you’re ADHD), doodling and daydreaming, I’m all about the pen and notebook. (I also write poems by hand. It’s a whole different thing than writing prose.) I’ve had a huge office/school supply fetish ever since I was a kid. I particularly love buying blank notebooks (full of so much potential!) and new pens (watching the ink flow across the paper–Heaven!). I adore Moleskines and other small, hardbound notebooks, but for daily use, I actually prefer composition books and spiral-bound notebooks. It hearkens back to being a kid in school, filling notebooks with a delirious mix of schoolwork, cartoons, maps of imaginary places, and story ideas.

my notebook & pen

Here’s my current notebook, “A Book of Impossible Things” (I usually give my notebooks titles), along with my pen of choice (it has quick-drying ink, which is extremely helpful when you’re a lefty who generally smears his writing with most pens and pencils). Inside is a daily journal of things of note that happen in any given day, rough drafts of poems, ideas on writing and other creative expressions, vague meeting notes from work, movie ticket stubs that I’ve taped onto pages, doodles, and other assorted, jumbled thoughts that have spilled out of my head and into my notebook.

I love how beat up my notebooks get. It shows how useful they are to me. And I like writing on graph paper more than regular lined pages. It’s kind of like playing Dungeons and Dragons all the time.

And now you have a little more insight into my processes.

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