You might be asking yourself what the fuck’s up with the poetry shit?
A couple of weeks ago I watched David Lynch: The Art Life. (Here’s the trailer.)
Lynch is a long time hero and the film flipped a switch in me. I’ve been lucky the last couple of years to live the art life, it suits me just fine and I kind of feel like documenting it even if no one else cares.
Plus, since I pay for this website, I’m going to do what I want with it, which means if you stumble over here, you’re going to have to read and see whatever art I’m working on. Right now, I write a lot of poetry before I get to work on longer material. At the moment, poems are my shot of espresso to get the day moving.
I’ve also been thinking about painting again, so you might see some sketches before I start working on the main event.
And, yeah, I’m going to be writing publishing book reviews and other critical pieces. But right now, here’s more poetry.
Sunk in the gray cushions
Of the couch and listening
To long dead bluesmen and
My baby babbling thru the
I unglue myself from my
Seat when I hear the thunder
And stare through the half
Closed blinds as clouds turn
The summer sky green with