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Death Date 'Cause I didn't think this would happen again No matter what I could do or say Just that I didn't think this would happen again With or without my best intentions   ~Liz Phair WPCR after-hours crooned from the countertop radio. Friends locked in a sound booth transmitting lyrics Straight to us at your fratless party        where he Stood over us so concerned about our Souls. Melting into the sofa or flowing Over and off of it. You kissed me, friend, And I kisse

Wasps How quickly we adjust, For the survival of us. Bought a few more days, Thanks to Climate Change. Terrify her students. Land Upon her wrist. None of us, not even one,             Asked for any of this. How quickly we adapt, As men redraw the maps. Buzz against the bulb,             It is dead and will not burn. Glide graceless onto hands With pens and sharpened tools. Die upon the rug, Still scaring little ghouls.

How Oddly One Falls One morning, we will wake up       Elated at the passing. So little harm at the loss        Of one who has done                 So much of it. There is no Scrooge-like       Intervention for someone Who lacks wisdom to be         Sorry. Narcissism Is a cruddy business        And will leave one     Alone and despised; Dancers in the street          At your demise. But, isn’t that what     He had hoped for             The whole time?

ART = AI he says art controls us — moves through us and out — has a “life of its own” — grows like artificial intelligence — but real. emotional intelligence —and fake. ( Read the lines on my face not the memes on my page .) make a move. call your friends. Franz Ferdinand. ( Friends Ferdinand ) the start of a new revolution — the computer generates vacant eyes and false words spoken — but you finger a grasp so painful arthritic pen needle paint brush      came

MuppetCon has come and gone, so I'm back to traditional kindness rocks.

Muppet cupcakes! Or "mupcakes", if you will. 😁

I painted Kermit's coffee cup as a party decoration. (Pic from The Muppet Show fir comparison)

Oscar's friend, Slimey!

Big Bird!

Super Grover!

Java Script Let’s do coffee - early, Morn. Discuss politics And romance novels. Let’s drink a cup o’ Joe At the cafe on Main Street Of the pulsing Saturday city. Fresh sweat and the promise Of the market. Add honey, Heavy cream, and sugar. Pour it on me. Forget The woe of the previous Week. A world Melting down. Blowing Up. Slithering along a Mocha Styx. Filtering Grounds for a divorce.

Spaghetti Dinner ~ Inspired by Renoir’s Onions (18181)  at The Clark Onions, 1881. Oil on Canvas. Pierre-Auguste Renoir They cut away secrets of the family, peeled each apart and everyone in that kitchen cried. The sauce, so bubbling and ready on that ancient stove. Who would want such meat? Red and over spaghetti, a dinner fit for the undercroft. Each bite charged with juicy garlic bread and the hours spent. Cook your dreams into steam clouds, and the bulbs will strike us

Radio Raheem explains "love & hate" in Lee's Do the Right Thing (1989) Deadly Force Radio Raheem a warning - unheeded. 30 years later, repeated on screens, smaller film, bigger business. Two steps forward, and you know what is next. Same story. Different street. how many cameras how many necks how much suffocation will we watch?

Gut Punch in the Grocery Lane ~ a Golden Shovel after Margaret Atwood Cannot get my hand to my heart in time to be useful every time the surge that I have lost you punches my gut. It is the way now, and only sleep connects us in a world full of failure. An old woman with a cart of strange vegetables and this memory. “To be lost in only a failure of memory.”

Stones in Pocket ~for MM Always the possibility lurks large when you have had enough of              this earth this       nightmare & magic tragic       days to luminous nights fight to keep the inspo baby TikTok promises and AI     therapy jump off the     tallest building a rooftop bar with a pool over       sidewalks and urine hot pink morning sky offers       some sort of promise and you take the granite        chunk out to save for another        

Vocabulary Lesson Her poems unlocked words, Hidden in a vault, yet perfect to name the now. A World blanketed in conflagration  - in all ways of the word. So to speak. So to write. Encourage all to prevaricate. Keep the bitterest words in the windpipe. Warm, moist, safe, and festering. Ballooning in the larynx. One does not want to be fired - burned like whole villages in California. Enflamed like the rash on my heart, itching more with every thrust.

Cages Slither in no place To be your glass tank Prison. Coiled corner, A false heat stone - victims Dropped from god hands above - Also trapped and doomed. Put a jail in every corner. Add unnatural death. Jail-keeper imprisons To feel powerful. Tombs Of mice left to cannibalism. A gecko that scales walls In a tiny moonlit lodge, Hoping for a patch of leftover Lettuce sky. Raptors Field day. Benson’s Auction. Monsters escape; Clear the room.