6 out of 9  - if you are barring with me 
early January
The pump began a basso profondos splat ticking as in my dream actors marched on deadline along side them Picasso is dressed like the riddler circa 1955 penning signs with a spray can onto corrugated cardboard + handing them out to the lineup for a french theater piece entitled the entitled pygmalion each person brandishing a graffiti sign enigmas stating that time has stopped and asking which ocean will rise I jump awake seized with the impression of the heat pump backing up + flooding the hill my little room a cork in the drift turning into 1950’s riffs in my head that I never lived through as this trilogy of tunes go together kicking + screaming I become aware that I have had nightmares that make more sense than this dosing back off the exaggerated ticking now a thunderous menacing clock as it creeps in through the window terry + I are working a triage tent using patches taken from our jeans as tourniquets that miraculously grow back as fast as they are torn off we work fast to bandage people together sending them on their way sometimes into waiting rooms sometimes onto an operating table sometimes back out through the in door the maddening ticking continued as my mind animates the sound that is reciting prose channeling the words from somewhere + writen down in the fog lost forever literary devices or a bullet list of projects listing themselves or a non-sequitur flip book the size of an encyclopedia or switching the tv from channel to channel or a long toenailed dog scampering across a wood floor or roden’s thinker tapping his fingers on his marble knee over and over + then it is dawn.


  1. My favorite chapter so far. This has to be legitimate transcription of your thoughts. You thought, therefore it is.

  2. Stream of dreams right there (I was going to say consciousness but given it's a dream...). I get it, I have a long nailed dog that ticks . . all the time.