S.B.T. 255

note to sivourney on organizing elevens

Leonardo

used his teeth as a third hand

to fund amen italy

practice exxing crost i's jiggling in jelly

cross hatch crass hotch etching etching astrolabe projections

thats where you come in and holding a candle

peer above the shoulder of his muslin mumu

voila charts in order of element m m m

chance equations spelt accurately on the banner

as per on par under the radar waving

from X to the qui

sivourney listen to me

(a beyond glowing emphases

to a twin star system sizzling on the other side

dit dit so as to intersperse past ast st t

wit wit present dash intermittent

mysterious morse code signal

...the odds are in favor of coconut milk for the camel to sip with a straw...note silhouettes on the cool moonlit doons r moving toward la hem meh al drawot...recruit the eclipse for 3D movie spectacles...some dutch umber viridian luis and drum powder...

S.B.T. 254

"..only don't be FRIGHTENED!.."

thankfully, they did not ask why i wanted that particular small victorian garden house.

i was protecting mysight with peach colored parasols, in avoidance of extended rods and cones pushing my eyes from behind

tiny aerobic drill sargeants.

but good, the man did not show an urgency 2 unlock any secret no intervention was disthrilling in a way to spin the fringe within distilling shards of shade - perhaps it distracted me from no voice but a startling willingness to smile and just give me whatever i want so graciously.

(he simply snaps his fingers and tossles his tassles and its done somehow remotely gliding a gilded weave thru burlap and shrouds an exaggerated like jack n. as ' the Joker ' smile in some clownish bent stones logo. compared to mick jagger his eyes were different, he had eyes of a hawk.

later twas sparkle to realize that i was watching with sly fox eyes the whole time, but i said, peach and cream overwhelming cast a net of cloud filaments and i never think of myself when that happens never have room to consider what exactly it is that i am 'doing' how can i know? u r living in a cream bath flowered filigree, there's not a lot of good ways to explain what happens with time

a few days later it arrived pink and white and finely architectured to resemble a frisco thirteen million coastal. i'd specified electricity in a dedicated line so these two dark blue tshirt guys with weighted toolbelts were puttering around and climbing ladders to the roof. they did not engage in any way, simply looked at the work they were doing and that impressed me as the dalai lama would. but then, perhaps it is simply lamebrained to keep doing what u r doing when u know what u r doing and do it so well u r a finetuned compass.

the zen master laughs in my memory sitting behind the desk, and applies so just so squiggly fingers to his head and shouts "cu-cu-Cooo! cu-Cooo! " it seems a pleasant beginning

the tailor motel kamzoil

S.B.T. 253

"certainly our clever breadcrumb plan will be a godsend

i mean how can it fail? lets go lets go deeper deeper into the forest....."

these things are ture. i mean true

it is expected to be expected

while secretly they expect to forget to

remember the unexpected while repeating the

expected expecting to be repeated

when they bread-crumbed the path*

they risked the consequence of disobedience from the perspective of a hidden

cavernous fear which attended the lengthening evening later, in the witches house,

where they nearly became supper.

iow, h & g's initial adverse fate was not a punishment for the 'wrong' itself, which was actually an innocent act of curiosity, but a result of the suffering that ensued since the sense of wrong most commonly agreed upon and imposed was arbitrary, that is the real story.

it has different levels from which to view it.

there would be the unquestioning attitude, that one in full unconscious agreement with the standard, there would be the childs eyeview where all things are new, and the one i'm talking about and then some more.

halfcircle pagan dance

witch lady, your head is missing

dont bother child, your arm is a scythe

stop beating that poor snake

the wisened duckling

hello angelfish, hi there bass baby

cat narcissus

*in hansel and gretel they drop breadcrumbs along the path so they can find their way back home later, but then get lost because birds ate the crumbs

S.B.T. 252

nailhead

i am shifting the pedestal beneath the object of the pursuit, which is not easy since the object(s rolled away under the bed through a s)liphole gateway to another dimension. I don't know if its worth thrusting my arm thru the hole to grope for it, trusting alarm at the role and scope of it, or busting thru harm for the soul and dope of it. a noose, a rope, toulouse would hope for wholesome soap and a droll-humored pope, pop of them poop of them, outside the loop of them, hop again hip to them stiff upper lip and then oh to fall in a vatful of beads. silver and gold ones, shiny and old ones bevelled and bold ones raku and cold ones, findings closures otherworldly pendants statuettes charms pious resplendence

strings and threads shrunken heads and byzantine icon attendants

worrybeads fashioned of petrified seeds, with tassled beginning and endence

a portion of a letter i wrote recently

Hi Monty,

Here are new semi-final crest designs A-F, let me know "nailheads" * or not, and sleeve (progression of visuals from clean to most distressed-can be reversed for printing on lighter colors) Do you like the type style? It's the same lettering as on the "Flying AngelFish" line in the crest. It has that "stamped on a box" look.....

_________

*nailhead

grooved into the wood

just hammered

try to pry it out

he writes back

lookin good but whats that nailhead thing? i mean i like the nailheads on the wooden plank, but what, do you propose using that copy for the back of the shirt?

you must be kidding

i write back

i was just kidding

my invoice is almost ready

i'll email it

S.B.T. 251

good luck mojo

capistrano

bella notte bella bell 

swallow and swallows return
to san juan shift capistrano 

i just need some space to fly in

unglue that shoe rhiff

alls fair in war  m   w e a t h e r

yeah you just found  

something good to know

some birds hang around 

S.B.T. 250

it's a fool that plays it cool i thought as he was watching the numbers digitize on the microwave. tiny green swiss dots shifting to the countdown. don't try to tell me you haven't seen that. well, maybe it's only for people in a rush. who cares anyway. maybe the bonbons er ladies who wear satin and feathers at breakfast, maybe they sometimes tiptoe across the marble to a cabinet where a radar equipped microwave is enthroned, to make instant oatmeal or something with boysenberry

enough of that, the real reason i came here was because of the transparent filmy sheaths roaming around between scrub pines at camp howes. built by the harbor community in 1944, it once spread along the inner shoreline over the rolling hills beyond the creek. the camphouse is still there, and has never changed, although now there is a hot dog popsicle concession in the basement during the summer but it is a traditional seacamp structure, with a peaked roof and dormers made of brick and worn wooden shingles and a sprawling open porch faces the bay. some finches are nesting in the corner. it is empty i didn't know it was haunted.

then just yesterday, before all this rain started a brilliant golden mid afternoon, around 2 oclock we were wandering among the picnic tables, softly, not to wake them from their offseason slumber low chatting about the upcoming festival he had his head down, looking at a pinecone or something, and i glanced over his bent neck and saw them. geez they were thinly sliced with celophane ripples around the edges, it was the reflection, as if on curved glass, that defined them. and they were moving together like a herd of goats or coyotes in small clusters. i heard some kind of benny goodman music they were gravitating toward the old bandstand now a cement tiled circle with a fountain in the middle and a wall made of stones with a bas relief crest inlaid, a brass portrait of JFK. Kennedy Memorial Park, they were all heading over there.

click for larger image

S.B.T. 249

eyes full

i slip my toes halfway in2 new

dance laughter shoes tossed like stars in glowing effervescent haste

and wander to a sunlit room

"this is the whitest kitchen i think i have ever seen"

came out like a solemn

greeting by amazing grace

a morning song

of knitted lace

clouds in locomotion i leaned my head

up, at least trying

to see all of you at once