effing blog

[ hope ]

from THE MOLESKIN

for hills
i seek the crease
the movement
of sweat

undo me
hunger unnoticed

yr braids. it's a problem
to see you again

DANGER.

MOLESKIN, i have
memory here new town

old town

the beard works the hill

west coast we bring our
sweaters, lamb, i
cannot tell you.

but the mist.

beers
cameras
action

MOLESKIN.

chronicle of 3 1/2 days so fast

make it count
(books books books)
and cocktails

san fancisco, she says,
a little bit of everything

Pins & Needles at Camp Fig tomorrow

Oliver Stones,

yo and yo. i don't like card games. i don't like cards. never really have and probably never will. like i don't like video games, like i don't like board games, like i don't like puzzles. my shortcomings? perhaps.

swell times.

i've been writing/reading/smoking doob. life has begun right?

this is a suicide

the silence just after is deafening. life gets bigger and full of ballons. a decent thought crossing from elevator to hallway. but empty space sucks air and pockets swing at capacity. forged bits clank. my weapons are pennies. accuracy: not so good. i suspect a penetration. i am sneaky and not so sneaky. that denver feeling. 7th floor vodka poppers. when the legs won't work better crawl. all that matters is getting out with a blanket. a swiss army knife. a fistful of hair. call a taxi to take us to the hills. from there it is anyone's guess.

remembering katie

i can still

feel the sting

of her slap

as i tried

to pretend

i wasn't as

stoned as i

was that night

in the street

of your sub-

division

private garbage in public places

bastard (know what you love) is cake, baby, is dope . a big promise. la stupid, la comely. o voice of a thousand lobbies.

stomach ache. driver seat. can't look away, those eyes, an answer will come. a drive thru order. headlights highlight shopping cart.

swimming pools. avoid. miles. punch the air like a man. acting weird wear boots. find chairs. every time walking here is hard. knees bad. incline.

when counting squares touch too plants. fencelines. insects. fingers cut on saw blade. a sun dial. after work bench, backyard beneath a tree of beans. you so know this. i tell you.

three proton hour. am no stunt man. effects to muscles. few. a wind tunnel stance. lean, love. listen. cats and dogs. traffic games. see a form. trees are calling. look there that form in many window.

summer poem

[playing catch with a friend]

playing catch with a friend
nostalgic heat, he hands me the hose
to drink from

step back to this:
playing pickle with a third -
snap of the glove
equations in the space between
us, the hot grass gone brown

one never outgrows this
catch and throw
catch and throw
and then back home for dinner

JENNY BROWNE & ZACH TUCK READ POETRY

sorry, the end of the week kind of creeped up on me...

Jenny Browne and Zack Tuck will read from their work, tomorrow, Friday July 9.

Browne is the author of At Once (University of Tampa Press) and a San Antonio poet-in-the-schools teacher.

Tuck, also a poet, works and lives in Austin.

The reading begins at 7 PM.

12th Street Books is located at 827 W. 12th Street (just east of Lamar). 499-8828

Black Stone cometh and Black Stone Goeth Away

touch Dale's Black Stone while you can