Against the Moon as Such, a haiku sonnet



The moon is not full 
of dreamy light.  The moon is 
full of….well,…the moon.

One could say the moon 
is full of rock, I guess.  Yes, 
lots and lots of rock.

And the moon is not 
a hole punched in anything,
either.  It shines like

….well, it shines like the 
moon, I guess.  It shines like a 
ball of rock.  Up there.

In the sky. Where it winks its
cold eyes at the sun.



Happy Birthday to Basho & Jung!

No, no, not the Japanese haiku master and the German Psychologist, but the brilliant blog-child of Jon Petruschke.  He has written one (or more) dream haiku per day for the last three hundred and sixty five days!  Quite an accomplishment.  You should definitely be following these little gems of surreal wisdom.

So, in his (and Basho and Jung‘s) honor, I have written a dream haiku of my own.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Remember that time
we both lost our memory?
Yeah, me neither.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Oh…and did I mention we were separated at birth?

photo

I, however, am fortunate to remember nothing about this little ensemble…

Happy Blogirthday, Basho and Jung!

Boobs





It’s funny how when they're 
laid out like this before 
you—butterflied, boned, and 
splayed on the cutting board, 

quietly speaking and 
reeking so subtly 
of death—funny how much 
they resemble that same

symbol of the very 
thing which they once covered, 
which no longer beats, that 
symbol of a symbol 

of life and love and how 
appropriate it is 
after all, because 
I do love life and yes, 

I do indeed love boobs. 



(Just in case anyone has been thinking that I have been getting 
terribly serious, "deep" or (gods forbid) "full of pathos", 
this will undoubtedly divest said persons of any such silly notions...)

The Red Dwarf Wheelbarrow



There may in fact be a 
supermassive black hole
 
at the center of our galaxy, 
in the midst of all that light,

and I am convinced beyond 
any dark matter of a doubt

that through that hole,
on the other side of 
that event horizon, 
through that single 
singularity, 

there is a 

wet red wheel 
barrow 

and some white 
chickens. 

Everything depends 
on it.