Tuesday, May 24, 2016


All about perspective, isn't it?
Here's how I see desiccated roses --

and roses see themselves, seeing me:

I think the same may be said of spent carrots.  How about a poem?  How does the poem I wrote this morning, "Abandoned" see itself, seeing me?  Carrots most likely, forthcoming.


  1. Circular

    text: "I watch for you at midnight".

    picture: River gambia, 17th century, masked king visits the hut of his true love

    J. makes shelves in the kitchen. I am reading a poem I wrote for Bix, what is the rhetoric of longing? It rains and rains. What is the value of narrative in a painting? Thinking of RB Kitaj and all that story behind a tree.

    Currently painting over the masked king, or I should say painting over half of it. I like the bird flying crazily toward the viewer, the huts in the distance, the sky blue, the sand off-white, and the words in faint pencil trying to tie it all into some kind of narrative. Poem first appeared in poetry bites, 2010, "When did the sparrow jump in the arms of the birch..."

    Also, ordering art supplies online not quite the same as visiting Flax on Market, which no longer is there. New condo going up. However, martini's is still there. And we should go back there, because buddha love is now open, which used to be the home of boddhi, from which many folks recovered after martini's magically altering house martinis.

    Signal if you agree on the above, any or all of it.

    part archive, 1/87, red cadic journal/part present, both sf,ca

  2. amendment necessary: substitute MARTUNI'S for location of magically altering martinis...