The Lexicon Artists

Fav Film: The Muppet Movie - it brought back all the joy I felt as a child...I'm so happy that I got to share the experience with my daughter! Fav. Actor: Peter Dinklage on Game of Thrones- his depiction of Tyrion Lannister is something truly amazing. Fav. Director: Tarsem Singh ...for his use of color and sweeping establishing shots in The Fall Fav TV Show (Cable): Game of Thrones - Few shows, and narratives, have the guts to cut off the head of the protagonist midway through the season...Winter is coming, and we are so not ready. Fav TV Show (Network-kind of): Walking Dead - the ending of the midseason finale left me stunned...literally...few shows pull that off. Fav Series from across the pond: Tie- Doctor Who and Luther - Bow ties are still cool, and Idris Alba owns the titular role as a damaged DCI. Fav. Helene Quote: "Actually, Dad,..." She's way too young for the back talk. I'm in so much trouble when she becomes a teenager. O.o ...

ink in clusters black like little spiders tangled fumbling out of my month backward weavings which I pry apart bleeding black, elastic words festering foul in their gesticulations spelling out the one thing that I want even though it will burn me until I taste of ashes and wistful wasted webs

Note:  This was written between 2003-2004 and was an attempt to fuse some motifs from David Lynch and Thomas Pynchon.  At best, it's an exercise in auto-erotic asphyxiation between Love and Death.  At worst, it's a waste of time.  Either way, my apologies in advance.   I.  He never really wanted this, this simulacrum, this dust on the mirror, this wet kiss on parched skin.  He wanted nothing.  He wanted an empty stage that echoed this life.  He wanted a shifting of feet, pattering around under empty eyes.  He wanted a cry to relinquish the void, to cast away the light and force the line to break.  He wanted vows to hold as a torch.  He wanted to establish a false dichotomy, a false solipsism.  But he never really wanted this.  II.  There is a distance between visions, a gap that forces us to mourn the reality of space, of tears, of false names.  She dances in this space.  She does this becau...

[Note:  Something I drafted 12/31/2011 but forgot to post up.] I was going to write something about how the highlights of 2011 really gave me new perspective on life and my place in the world, how they taught me that at my age I was still capable of change, and how joy and happiness could still find new places to take root...and conversely about how the low points of 2011 had the potential of etching a shadow on my days to come, a shadow that I'm not sure I'd ever be able to cast a light on. ...but I wanted to avoid the sentimental, so I thought I'd try to write something punny, with airy alliteration, like "titular trappings tend towards troublesome times" or "linear lunacy lends life limited longevity"... ...but I didn't want to sound too frivolous, so I went with something more stoic, something to do the old gods of the North right: "In this last year, my head didn't end up on the tip of a spear, and my heart didn't end up n...

a splatter of empty chairs   outpace a pattern of voided steps hands hold up my head up           hold up a gaggle of gasps               grasping oily, unwashed hair I want to outpace it all      all the tremored sighs      all the wash-cloth stares      all the hands silent                 outpace the fuck of it all

Here are the three picks that AJ selected from last month's blogathon.  Enjoy: 1.  Scald   It all happened in one second.  I was getting my strainer ready to drain the pasta when the pot slipped and I got a good splash of near-boiling water on my left hand.  Funny thing is that it took me a few seconds to realize what had just happened, but once my mind wrapped itself around the pain, I immediately ran my hand under cold water.     Once I had dinner ready for Helene, I put my hand in a bowl of cool water (after reading that it was not good to ice the hand as it hinders the flow of blood).  The burn was not too bad as long as I kept it in water, but the moment I pulled it out of the water the pain kicked in.   Helene looked up from her dinner and asked, "daddy, are you going to lose your hand?"   "No, love, it'll hurt for a few days then heal up," I replied.   "Oh, if you had lost it, you could have gotten a hook like C...

[In my Creative Writing 2 class, I had students do the Jim Simmerman's 21 Little Projects activity in class.  As they were writing, I decided to jump in and write with them.  Here's what I came up with.] folded an avalanche of angles numb to the glue smelling of shimmering shivers Betty Davis in blue unwrapped blaring over a speaker ¿Sak pase? Mailed under the table "Because he did" Sloppy brick of acceptance laying a disjointed foundation Betty Davis in blue overalls "Vitico no oye" "You're going to get lost in that mess again." squelchy pen mark ergo: all barks are just ripples "N'ap boule" the paper reclines and naps lulled by its lupine ways