Like an untapped fountain of natural resources,
brothers and sisters will wither side by side,
while well-wishers lament climate change
and drink white wine in accidental 1st class,
inscribing random thoughts in a steadfast,
chaotic, malcontented notepad:
fascinating sketches, oblique from nowhere.

Brewed awakening in Spokane, Washington,
but I got it done in time, before the deadline.
Shook it off, nice and soft.
Heaven and hell are just states of mind.

It takes all kinds
in this chronicle of accidental meaning,
so drop your drawers and awaken to fifth base,
face to face with impending doom and gloom.

Wild mushrooms abound in secret enclaves,
so stave off hunger for months on end
and make friends with perfect strangers.

For it’s been years
since I’ve seen this kind of thing transpire.
Like a diamond ring of fire,
you can’t argue when there’s plenty
of moo shu pork to go around.

Touchdown!
And the extra point is good.

Once upon a time there was a firestorm
and multiple residents were evacuated from their hearth and homes.
Their hearts were in the right place, but even drosophila melanogaster
has to save face from time to time.

Like an incendiary rhyme,
this kind of lime is key
to our understanding of prime numbers.
For they form a pattern, you see,
like an underwater crystal structure
that is destined to rise up and overcome
the laws of fluid dynamics.

“Attack” is a common word
used in the titles of science fiction novels.
What, you’ve never read one?
The one in red is cute, but the one in green is cuter.
Red means stop, green means go.

So get of the pot or take a shit,
because nothing in this world makes sense
unless you’re taking care of business, everyday,
like expelling waste and flushing it into the ocean.

Bye bye potato! See you again some other day.

Tubers, eh? Yeah, I’ve seen ‘em around,
but they live underground, making plans for world domination.
Some are into working out at the gym,
and then there’s tiny Tim Tuber, no larger than a thimble.
He’s not quite as quick and nimble as his brother, Jack,
but he’ll stop on a tack whenever his track is played on the radio.

Plant a seed and watch it grow…
Soon it will develop into a beautiful blossom of nonsense,
patched together through semi-random circumstance.
On the off-chance you’re actually reading this,
Congratulations, and I hope you’ve gained
something from the experience.

Some folks wonder what it’s like to be screwball romantics.  They can only dream of the day when God or somebody speaks to them from the great beyond.  Possessed by demons only they themselves can imagine, they jitter aimlessly from playground to imaginary playground. 

Whenever freedom greets one face to face in the wild, one must have the utmost of moral fortitude in order to meet that freedom face first and proclaim, “I embrace you, freedom.  God rest ye merry gentlemen.”  For it comes not only to those in need of a good spanking, but also to the league of albatrosses circling the skies and scouring the seas. 

 Some folks ask me, “Cletus, why do you hold on to so many grievances against people whom you don’t even known anymore?  Does that make any sense?  Come on now, really?”

 Anyone with a vested interest in pomegranate metaphysics ought simply to check their baggage at the door, mind you, because this is a family establishment, and the only cooks in the kitchen are the ones doing the dirty work to feed your stupid, fat, fucking faces.

The drums were beating,
but I was in a meeting.
Pure cholesterol comes from within,
after devouring a pork chop special.

Naval grommets and things better left unsaid –
farts that don’t stink don’t carry any water.
Officer Otter patrols the Outer Banks,
searching for invertebrates to make snacks out of.

We are searching for something deeper –
some deeper kind of meaning –
deeper than what we see on the TV,
deeper than what we can purchase at the local strip mall.

Like a bale of turtles, those of us lurking in the back alley
chill out and wait for nothing in particular.
Who knows what will happen on any given day?

Underneath the world of appearances
lurks the awful truth.
Few will take advantage of the opportunities
truly presented unto them.

Woah,
slow down.
Take a breather, fire-eater.
Don’t bite off more than you can chew.
Your mouth might get singed, but
no pain, no gain.
Are you insane?

Surprise appearance,
automatic clearance,
a match all most peerless,
cosmic weirdness.

Fate has been sending some strange packages lately.
What is the reason for this?
Or maybe, which parts of us influence how the world comes back?

Or, then again, maybe it’s the season when stars collide,
and the automatic swirl turns somersaults:
head over heels,
hell on wheels,
little girl squeals…
no amount of describing how this feels.

But no need to overextend,
by the same token,
ourselves into the mesh –
leave some words unspoken,
shift the focus from the flesh.

Once we get our choice back,
we can unpack without spilling.
Although it’s thrilling to dive heartfirst
into an ocean of soul and splash,
at some point you’ve got to get out and dry off.

dingleberry fresco
pickaninny  disco

lingonberry pancakes
subsequential backaches

preliminary outcomes
inconsequential bon-bons

variegated miscellany
artificial mercenaries

philanthropic Jesuits
unrelenting tax audits

uncategorized qualia
nothing more to say for y’all

Scar between breasts marks
a brush with death early on.

Like a phoenix rising red from black ash,
she leapt up and grabbed a paint brush
to re-create the world in her own image,
without the guilt of folding prematurely.

Her work melted the real from the unseen,
lines fading in between colors blue and green,
faces floating motionless,
encapsulated in translucent shades of orange,
insidious indigo and violent violet.

She crept out from the horizon
and settled on the frontier.

Teetering on the brink between attentiveness and passivity,
the mind searches for peace within a turbulent sea of ideas.
The island of truth is so elusive yet so sought after;
so close and yet so far away.

Why not throw stones if your glass house is already broken?
There’s nothing to lose except the foundation.
Blasting through the bedrock,
a way ahead is laid out for generations to come.

Out in the desert the air is calm despite the wind,
and things seem to happen for no good reason.
The sparseness of the landscape creates a barren atmosphere
where words are stripped of meaning unless they’re tied down and corralled.

Like cattle blindly following the herd,
we’ll find greener pastures without even trying.
Our brethren are dying in wars without consequence,
but why don’t we go eat some turkey club sandwiches?