what happens in here anyways

did i talk about my chapbook coming out? (i have not mailed these out to people i said i would mail these out to in forever so please let me know if you still need one [everyone])

i have been sort of busy i dont know.

sometimes, things happen here:


i am sorry.


readin readin

short notice/you know how it is:



well hello there

Jeremy stands at the tip of an iceberg. There is a small thing in the air in the distance. First of all, Jeremy thinks, where is all of the blight, anyways? Jeremy looks down at his feet and thinks about how his feet are sinking into the iceberg but also how they are not. There is an image of a corpse under some of the iceberg. Jeremy finds a shovel and digs some of it up. The corpse looks like a Dad or an Uncle.

A small thing in the air gets a bit bigger and Jeremy squints his eyes at it. Jeremy squints his eyes harder and there is a coldness on his nose. In fourth grade. That is what Jeremy is thinking about, he thinks in his head, "In fourth grade."

All of these things stop for a few seconds and then Jeremy clocks in. The iceberg says thank you. Some blood creeps out of Jeremy's nose and it feels like ten small slugs combined into one normal sized slug crawling out of his nose. Jeremy looks up at the sky and tells his heart to skip a beat to slow down some of the slug blood.

"Well hello there." A smiling face and head pop out from the tip of the iceberg. "My name is Oncle."

"Oncle I am busy please."

Oncle looks a little bit sad and throws up a tiny bit. "Guess I will be seeing you, then." Oncle's head and smiling face both go back into the tip of the iceberg. All modes and forms of communication are cut off.

Jeremy sees the small thing in the air get a little bit bigger. His blood gets a bit heavier, all over. The tip of the iceberg smiles a little bit and Jeremy's right foot falls into a little bit of smile. After this, Jeremy falls on his back and maybe broke something in his right foot that is still stuck in the little bit of smile.

Jeremy thinks about his digestive tract. How come I never went back to school, Jeremy thinks. I could have been a neurosurgeon or some kind of dentist or dentist helper. Maybe I could have opened a chain or something else.

Jeremy is done thinking for a little while. He stares at the sky and doesn't see much besides a few cirrus clouds. Jeremy thinks Fuck you cirrus clouds you are my least favorite of the clouds. Maybe I could rekka punch my way out of this.

Jeremy thinks "wah-taaah" and then thinks of Bruce Lee and then thinks of conflagration.

The blood slugs its way back into Jeremy's head. Jeremy hears a squawking.


domino's pizza, papa john's pizza

do you ever wonder about the incoming shipments?
about the crossed swords and about the neatly trimmed?

run stop fierce run stop fierce run stop fierce run stop fierce

(tired of short poems, long poems)


under my coat is a blanket and then a knife.
a beetle decided to die on my drawing of a man who is giving a thumbs up.

did you know: s
outside the fear sort of sinks when i cannot see what i have done
they are invisible almost and confused the frequent animals
other times we sit around
and oh if i really could right now
it would sound like we were in a car and the car is bread
and the car is bread and there are mountains with the internet
i'm a body kind of USB but outside we're the old network
i thought about buying you some scented oils from the man at the bus stop
another man called me "boss"
big boss. big boss. big boss.



corsica is a place in the mountains.
corsica is a sort of inability.

how much time do you spend on that? well, i've got about a few dozen or so and
well also i think that

who says what, anymore? i remember that one time i jumped down a staircase. i remember that one time i craned my head backwards, craned my neck backwards and said

"well i sure don't remember doing that."

all of the days go by, the shortstop trips on his glove, the bermuda triangle howls quietly. jeremy asks, "how much money you all make?" and tips his bat at a cloud. jeremy folds his hands like a snake and makes dead eyes. "how much money you all got?" jeremy tips toward another cloud. "how many times you all get money?"