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pa ate my bullets

im going freak mode

coffee cry because i drank

too much coffee then i

saw the sign the

bench sign the sign in

memorium 1966-2002 she

loved sitting at the

oaks_____sucking up the

sunbeam well to you i

go freak mode on coffee cry

,________all my life's

cries are connected in a

web all my life's

cries are about the same

thing all movements of

my face are moving towards

THAT

no circularity the face

is a linear thing that

emotes linearly to

THAT

hope is recontextualized

apathy

green redshifting to

yellow i hope he's not

mad i figured it out before

he did; pa, who

ate my bullets

calvin piss on life

i dont need that ride to the mall anymore

cuz calvin’s gonna piss on life

you dont have to touch me or hold my hand or put your forehead on my forehead

cuz calvin’s gonna piss on life

no need to answer my deeply emotional questions with equally emotionally intimate answers of beauty and truth

calvin’s gonna piss on that too

forget about leaving me a little note in the morning when you go to work with a heart on it and a drawing of a smiling dog

cuz calvin’s gonna piss all over that too

hand in hand we walk along the river of molecules holding their hands in all the other molecules hands and all the molecules are piss

because calvin pissed on life

and i look over my shoulder to see you carried away in the stream

like the dream told me you would be

the yellow piss dream

the only lucid dream i ever had in my life and i said

“this is my dream! i can do anything!”

and calvin said no

calvin laughed

if you’ve ever heard calvin laugh

you know how terrifying it is

how terrifying he can be

the laugh that precedes the piss

he laughed and he pissed

what was he pissing on?

“this is me! this is me we’re talking about! i ran cross country in high school!”

i ran against the piss

i jogged against the stream of piss

what was he pissing on?

this is my dream

i can run as fast as i want!!!

want was he pissing on???

i squinted

i could just about make it out

it hit me all at once

the realization

it shook me

i can still remember it

i’ll always remember it

the moment i saw it

it was life

he was pissing on life

the poem to end all loneliness

martha,

i’m thinking about giving it all up

joking around

bits

telling them funny until i’ve told them all

and setting down at my desk

or buying a big wooden desk

setting down at it

i’ll write the poem to end all loneliness

i’ll feel all the bad emotions

sweat them out saunalike

jealousy and cruelty and hatred

fear and insecurity

fear of the infinite

fear of never dying

deny myself the divert

poem laughing logic loophole

and left only with brick and wood and blood

scream out to the two constellations

zall the long hunter

and lainley the piper with her three star pipe

and then destroy that artifice too

and skin out narrative

and before it all comes crashing back down

feel lonely

so lonely

and love

martha,

i think love is on a different track

i think of looking out the window and watching love riding alongside

i think the dotted line of highways is so love has gaps to get through

and love is always falling from clouds even when rain isn’t

and the nut of love is stowed away in the cheek of every being

and love goes into words and pictures and painted shelves and staircases with carved handrails

but the world was always love from way back when when the moon hit it

and made the moon

some kisses are like that

big hit that dissolves

into revolving

some kisses are light and forever, too

a comet bringing back the meteor shower

year by year by year

trees found out about love

and bugs found out about love

and fog found out about love

and a cicada walks down the very edge of a piece of sidewalk

and through the mist sees a branch hanging low and feels good

and some kisses are like that, too

some kisses are the picture form of sweetness

or sweetness is something we got from a star

a regular old star blinking beaming without a name

that’s what gave us sweetness

like the moon did love

and we named them and wrapped them up in the name

and made a joke about them

was that wrong, martha?

was it wrong, mrs martha stewart,

to give the moon a name?

i can’t let things go

neither can anyone i know

we do it to everything

name

and maybe the poem to end all loneliness is to stop

martha nine

but the world was always complicated

and if i’m being honest

when i was a kid

the fact that she was probably awake

and hard at work on her next episode

was what helped me sleep

and arranging my arms and hands

crossways and then to parallel

doing everything twice because the first time

switched my fate from good to evil

and i had to switch it back again

one of those heavy days

i cut myself out of the ritual

and stopped thinking about her

and if i’m being honest

when i was a kid

i would sleepwalk and walk to the front door and put my hand over the lock

over and over again trying to get out

where was i trying to go?

martha stewart eight

it’s late

the corner store’s closed

martha decides to walk to walkgreens

swimming in humidity

martha calls john baumann

just to have someone to chat with on the walk

john baumann is in space

martha has friends like that

you get rich enough and your friends are in space

fucking around because what /cant/ they do?

‘pretty wild up here’ says john

‘really puts things into perspective’

martha gets a notification

she always has notification sounds on because she’s old

look at that

it’s a picture from john

it’s the earth

‘really beautifully shot, john’ says martha

‘well john, i’ve got to go. i’m at walgreens’

martha hangs up

the cashier scans martha’s two packages of oreos

‘you walk your dog around here’ says the cashier, ‘i see you walking down the street. is that a golden?’

‘yellow lab,’ says martha

and takes solace in the fact that she’s so rich

even her dog has been to space

‘retty rild rup rere,’ the yellow lab, whose name is sammie, told her when he got back,

‘really ruts rings rinto rerspective.’

but the dog didn’t take any pictures while it was up there

the dog can’t hold a camera

the dog will have to rely on its memory alone

it can still picture it now

that big blue ball

the dog has a sign above its doghouse

‘the worlds a ball, and we’re just fetchin in it.’

martha thought that was kitschy when the dog bought it

but she has come to love it

but she’ll never say so

martha looks at the cashier

the cashier looks at her

‘that’ll be eleven fifty’ says the cashier

‘here is infinite money,’ says martha, ‘keep the change as a tip.’

martha thinks she hears the cashier say one more thing as she leaves

‘martha,’ she hears, ‘why didn’t you ever go to space?’

martha smiles and shakes her head and mutters to herself as she exits the walgreens

‘don’t need to,’ she says, ‘when the best friends in the world can tell me all about it.’

martha's town

with everything else

i believe in sweetness

i am determined to love everyone unconditionally

i am determined to hold a radical belief in love

love is understanding

love, to me, is knowing someone

i want to know basically everybody

i'm tickled that people know me

i'm sitting here at work tickled that these people know me

i want to learn everybody's name

and be a regular everywhere

and smile at everyone

and trust everyone

i truly believe it's possible to trust everyone

through understanding

i believe in people as individuals and in humanity as a whole

and i think a sun can form anywhere

and particles do all sorts of wild stuff

all the time!

martha stewart BASE jump from the moon

martha stewart BASE jump from the moon footage

martha stewart BASE jump from the moon youtube.com

martha stewart home living BASE jump event

martha stewart BASE jump October 4th

martha stewart leap

martha stewart moon leap

martha stewart sea of tranquility

martha stewart on moon

martha stewart moon selfie

martha stewart moon selfie pre-jump

martha stewart vimeo

martha stewart vimeo moon footage

martha stewart vimeo moon footage -"baking" -"home living"

martha stewart twitter

martha stewart twitter "date:10/4/2023"

martha stewart planet

martha "moon jump" stewart

martha stewart BASE jump interview

youtube dot com

martha stewart, #5

~martha the faerie~

help! that’s not me

it happened when i was thirty seven

they told me it was an experimental new non stick pan spray

it wasn’t!

what it was was actually a spray that put my soul out of my body

and put my soul into the body of a one inch tall faerie

now being a faerie, it’s not so bad

i’ll give you that

i can fit into any mouse hole basically

and you wouldn’t believe the cool stuff mice gather in all these little holes!

bug carcasses, lint, piles of unidentifiable food…

ack! *shakes head*

there i go again

you see the faerie mind is small and rat like

and each day i feel myself losing more and more knowledge

about the intricacies of home living

and about matching the curtains to the couch

i probably could barely bake you a pecan pie anymore!

let alone hand crimp it

plus the pie would have to be made of like one single pecan

me being one inch tall and all

well

maybe rat brain isn’t so bad

it’s clear to me now the whole world was getting too complicated

but the world was always complicated

and even when cavemans ran around

there were pulsars

who’s out there

running around as the fake martha stewart?

don’t ask me

i think it’s time

i sought out some real quality oreo crumbs

martha stewart, #4

he died of heat stroke

you can die of anything at 86

you really just die of vulnerability

i’ll have to try to relate to that

it’s different for me

one of the immortals

five hundred years from now

they’ll be looking at my picture

they’ll have crazy new eyes

and see all the colors like the mantis shrimp

and my standard vision photo in the neurolink encyclopedia

will look old and dated

but it’ll be there

next to my recipes

and some 26th century bohemian

bored and nostalgic

will cook up my two-layer pecan pie

hand kneaded dough, not too flaky

he’ll stream out the taste test

his followers’ll really be able to taste it

the pie

and they’ll find it’s old, aged

small potatoes on their augmented god-pallettes

but they’ll taste it

and i’ll be alive

martha stewart, #3

my name is martha stewart

i work at pizza hut

if you call and order the chicken alfredo, the garlic knots, or the cheesy breadsticks or any of the desserts,

that’s not me, that’s Marvin

but if you call and order basically any pizza

pepperoni pizza

veggie lovers

big meat pizza

giant pizza with a bunch of meat on it

that’s me making the pizza

me, martha stewart

i take great care in my pizza making

i’m not creative about it

but i am efficient and effective

most of all i am exacting

22 pepperonis to each small

27 for mediums

4 shakes of garlic for mediums

5 for larges

i do all my own prep when i can

not that i don’t trust Hannah or Mark

i’d just rather do it myself

on slow days i help answer the phone

if you order a boneless pizza

i will hang up on you

if you ask me how i’m doing

i will invariably tell you it’s a great day at pizza hut

if your credit card gets declined

i will tell you in the most polite manner possible

if you seem distraught for any reason when you call

i will try to sound extra kind

i am a believer in that thing

the thing where they say

you can hear a smile over the phone

i believe it

outside of work

i probably smile about once a week

i’m not sad about that

that’s just the sort of life i live

i don’t go out a whole lot

my boyfriend is a very serious man

we talk about serious things

we explain things to each other

my boyfriend is a big history buff

i learn a lot about history from him

and in turn

i explain to my boyfriend

all about my different recipes

and various aspects of home life

and of suburban living

i explain how to match curtains with the couch

i explain about accent walls

in my mind

i can see the upcoming popularity of exposed brick

and the color gray

but i must play my role as martha stewart

and speak of fun patterns and the color tan

my boyfriend nods

and when he tells me about troop movements in the russo-japanese war

i nod

this is how we live our life

two spigots turned toward each other

and every two months or so

we have sex in the car in the back lot

of the hefferston mattress store off jungerman

because although we have never say it outright

or even really fully consciously think about it

we are afraid of what would happen

if our roommates heard us having sex

my roommates hate him

and his roommates hate me

and that’s just how it is

back at the pizza hut

Harry

the wednesday thursday cook

asks me if i can trade shifts

he wants to go to a party on Wednesday

i tell him i can’t do it

come on

he says

i know you never do anything

i can’t i say

he offers me 100 bucks

i turn him down

150, he says

no, i say

i just don’t want to

250 bucks

says Harry

final offer

fine

i say

fine

i’ll do it

ok, says Harry, but you know i can’t actually pay you 250 bucks to cover my shift

i say

well then i’m not doing it

martha stewart, #2

i scanned her in

it was some metal show

i was supposed to work the bar

i was going to make myself a shot

i was going to get real drunk

but they put me on scanner

well

at least it's quiet out here

and the breeze coming down and out toward the flood wall

was a sticky kind, but cool and confortable

i told her:

"i think we knew each other. in high school?"

she said that wasn't true

she said i knew her from tv

"i'm martha stewart" she said

after the show, we got in my car and drove

under the highway and south out of downtown

at a dive bar, she showed me a picture of her kid

"he's a cutie" i told her

"he's a rascal" she said

she told me about malcolm, her husband

how he made really good pancakes

and dressed best in fall

how he looked great when the leaves were all orange

and in winter he turned gray

outside the bar window

i saw the shadow shape of a rabbit skitter

around a corner

two days later the sun went behind some clouds

i called in sick from my other job at the bakery

and martha stewart and malcolm and i

walked through tall sweaty grass

to a picnic table in the park

malcolm had brought two bags of seedless grapes

one of himself and one for the rest of us

martha had whipped up a fantastic pecan pie for dessert

she'd worked the crust just the right amount

not too doughy, not too flaky, hand rolled, hand crimped

classic martha

that night, we got in malcom's SUV

and went to martha's apartment

the AC was broken

everything was hot and humid

and felt so slippery

i did all i could for them

and they seemed to enjoy it

and they both smiled at me with their eyes closed

anyway, it was all i could do

in the morning, on the way out, martha stopped me

put a cup of coffee in my hand

"come see the kid" she said, and opened a door to another room

well, he was in there

sleeping away

martha stewart, #1

but the world was always complicated

i used to read runes

and one day i read one i didn't know

i stuck my hand in freezing cold water and kept it there till i couldn't stand it any more

and a hundred thousand years ago we could talk to bees

because we had time to sit in front of an open hive

and decipher the dances

the world, always complicated

forever freaking out because the green beans are touching the potatoes

the bones in my left hand are reprints

exactly the same as the guy they found in the ice sheet

they don't know this, but he loved drawing little folks

with bug eyes and funny looking dogs

and cool alien things

i stuck my hand in freezing cold water and kept it there

till the hand easily separated from my wrist

i pushed it around in an ice block

it slipped all over like in a video game

it went right over the sidewalk

one-handed, i prep biscuits and match my curtains to the couch

drill holes in my head to get the parasite out

the one that made us all smart this way

all i wanna do

is dance

poem for a killer

it's my first time pouring concrete.

i put gloves on. it feels like a gloves on moment.

you hold the post straight.

i tell you maybe it isn't straight.

it's straight you tell me.

well, good enough for me. i'm just the pourer.

i mix it thick. and it just keeps getting thicker.

whole basements are made out of this.

i watched lightning strike

through the window in your basement made out of this.

ok, here's concrete going into the hole.

curving slowly around the post.

pretty much like applesauce.

i remember your sillouhette cut out of that red light.

there was a breeze coming through the kitchen.

i was right on the edge of the hallway.

the way i remember it you were so far away all in red.

and you held the dead mouse like you would a kitten.

and i could tell you were thinking really hard.

one of the many many times

i couldn't think of anything interesting to say.

i was going in there for a fork.

i scooted around you.

i probably even did the "ope" thing like we were strangers.

so.

what do we draw on it.

we each get one shape, you tell me.

that's a big decision for concrete.

that shape'll last.

well,

i'll close my eyes and say words for the mouse

and put a little oval with ears.

i open my eyes.

we both drew the same thing.

/this song/

i remember listening this song with my grandpa. he's dead now. he was so nice. he showed me how to fish. he's dead now. glad this song is on youtube. glad new generations are getting into this song. i'm 25 but my grandpa used to play this song all the time. he had it on a record. he died.

i found out in the parking lot of a culvers. my dad called me. "your grandpa's dead" he said. instantly this song started playing in the back of my mind. it was his favorite song. he used to listen to it all the time. back before he died. it was a heart attack. they rushed him to the hospital. they thought they might be able to kick his brain back to life with electric shocks and some other doctor stuff. i ordered the six piece chicken fingers. i got a soda and fries. i ate the culvers in terrible depression. i was alone at the table.

i drove down to st. louis to go to the funeral. there he was. lover of this song. this song is a widow now. we cremated its lover and spread the ashes over a cliffside in hannibal. on the way home, i queued up this song. it has a really weird interaction with my car's subwoofer. half the baseline gets boosted and the higher notes in the other half don't. my car has terrible treble balance, too. you can adjust it as much as you want, it doesn't really change anything. that's okay. everything sounds good enough.

/7:44/

your eye has a bumpy texture

a bumpy corduroy texture

the moon was shaped weird last night

the crescent moon was weirdly round like a bean

our shadows fell off the bridge

down to the train tracks

a train went by, i touched it

the moon was shaped like a bean last night

i smoked the second half of a cigarette and watched a guy disappear

at sundown

at the river

i matched all the rocks by color

your teeth had big spaces in between them

you crouched down by the night water and my dog licked your knee

the moon came up

looking like a bean

so this is the bumpy texture

of every memory bubbling up

/idi blasks’ midnight dream/

to write a poem for the gorilla you failed to notice you busybody basketball toss counting fuckface buffoon there’s a toad on the moon

there’s a toad on the moon smoking a lucky strike and singing songs so loud they fly down here when the sky is clear and the light is dim

the light tonight is dim your ring doorbell tells me i’m being recorded i’ll stare into the shiteye of your ring doorbell with flame gaze and burn it out from the inside

inside getting a grip on your hair

motion and stare so the wood paneling curls shapes out of knots into moving pictures with rhythm

like idi blasks’ unremembered midnight dream

the midnight dream dipped below the attic floor of memory, so deep dark my flight touching down in a city of love, i devote myself to this town

this town waking up sleepy

—

/two lovers/

i have two lovers

one of them picks me up from work

we drive out on the service road

past the jungle law billboard

a windchime in a neighboring house

a dog panting behind the fence of another

in the third floor apartment

accessed only by a set of precarious wooden steps

built onto the outside of the old home

we leave the window open

we sit side by side on the bed and watch a line of ants crawl across the floor up the nightstand to an old apple

the painting on the wall shows a warm world

the glitter of moving muted television jangles on the corner of my kiss vision

the third floor has never felt so low down on earth

and this window wind must be the fast air of the world turning

like a plant searching for more sun

when it’s over, my lover offers me half of a granola bar

we walk down a thin sidewalk and buy a 2 liter of some brown soda

and talk to the gas station lady about her kid that was on the news

they labeled him “dr. mcellen’s patient”.

the story was a good-hearted one they put on right at the end

and the kid was smiling the whole time

i have two lovers

the other one calls me late at night

and tells me about some things i can’t remember now

except they were strange and didn’t seem to be real

and i assumed my lover was very high

come over

says my lover

okay

i say

my lover’s apartment is an easy walk from mine

and tonight, the wisp of fog shutters down on the streets like gates in a maze

an owl makes a noise

i’ve never heard an owl make before

and i move my foot

to stop from squishing a slow-moving roach

my lover’s door is dark

i knock and go in

in the kitchen with only the oven light on

my lover tells me a story so wild

i can’t believe it

then we look out the window

even when i was a kid

says my lover

i’ve been able to see the lines that connect the constellations

only they aren’t the constellations we talk about

or you know,

that they would talk about in the planetarium

i can only assume

says my lover

these are the real constellations

the baked-in set

the forever shapes

and so on from there

we kiss

but we don’t go any further than that

i tuck my lover into bed

and go back to the kitchen

sitting on a high stool and looking out the window

out the window

this new moon night

throws stars so bright and fast

i almost get it

—

/matchstick duo/

i can see the sun going across the sky as in:

like a cloud, i can watch the sun going across the sky

science says:

wind blows on the sun and the sun goes

the planets are made out of only tin

the sky is solid like a big blue block and

if you are tall like some people are

like how you are

you can touch the bottom of the blue sky block

with the tip of your middle finger

standing on the tip of your big toe

science tell us:

everything on earth is made of only

the smooth thing

the thing like plastic without the depressing connotations

the thing that’s only ‘the smooth thing’ and nothing else

the fire at the end of a match

easy when you touch it