it fills itself
Gorges his hard steel stomach
with dirty diapers
candy wrappers
and frozen dinners
gluttonous devil

it spits up its heavy load
Heaves her skywards, and deposits it underground
eventually she healds over
a delicate sod skin, green, but it
cannot contain the stench
and ooze of his breath
on her gentle flesh

Sun,
low on the horizon, tucked in by the
technicolor vapours of twilight
The sky is infinite here, and blue, it overwhelms the streets
and homes beneath it

steel tracks still baked from the noontime desert heat
reveal frolicking lizards basking in the
remnants of daylight

as weeds grow sinewy and touch, the thorny distant cousins
of flora from a more delicate time
push up tenacious yellow blossoms
that seem more brave than beautiful
born into a life of sanctifying muck
and the red-rusted iron of dilapidation

Pastel pink and bleak white
of faded old cigarette cartons
the glitter of broken beer bottles
strewn about, become just another part
of nature
reabsorbed, forgotten
it grows darker
this place more wild still
more dangerous at night
i should go home

AND A FEW FABLES FOR YOUR READING PLEASURE

THE BIRTH OF DEATH

One night, a six-eyed unicorn emerged from the magma-coated blistering center of the earth and encountered a woman. Her name was Apple, daughter of the exiled son Esau. The demon unicorn looked upon her and said to her,

"Apple, YOU are The Harbinger of Death (c), YOU are pregnant with Death (c)".

And Apple wept at this all night for she did not like the name Death(c) at all,
and additionally she was praying for a girl-baby.

Nine months later, Death(c) was indeed born, and when his mother looked upon him, she was truly amazed, for he cried out like a baby byst was comprised solely of bones. At this, the mother-apple was content,
for she knew her son would never suffer from obesity.

THE MARRIAGE OF TRUTH AND DEATH

Sixteen fortnights after the dawn of time,

Death wandered mournfully
through the hallways and streets of his neighborhood, waiting for He-Man or Peewee's playhouse to come onto the television. During his meditations in the streets and hallways, Death came to the realization that he was a very lonely boy indeed.

At this thought, he sat in the street of his neighbors and wept sorrowfully, when a maiden came out of her home to take out the garbage. When Death encountered her he covered his face in shame for he knew
he was Death and he knew that his duty was to be fearsome.
The maid was Truth, a resplendent and glorious beauty with the antlers of a deer, the purest being in the entire neighborhood.
When she looked upon Death's melancholic demeanor, she comforted him. When Death looked upon her again and saw her pure beauty he wept even harder.

Then Truth looked deep into the eye-sockets of Death and said,
"Death, thouest a mournful creature, shan't thee enter my house and enjoy a game of Atari?"
And Death accepted Truth's generosity and played Atari with her. The two glorious children were a sight to be seen, and were married immediately after. And all the demons were sorrowfull when they heard this for they knew their friend Death was now
totally whipped.

A short thought on how I've been doing art-wise

I feel as though I haven't been producing an extraordinary amount of pieces lately, the usual vices have been distracting me from being productive (television, internet, the dangerous "screenballing", or television and internet simultaneously, etc.) Whats even worse is that I feel as though I've been in some sort of vague purgatory of conceptualization, waiting for the ever-cliche "muses" to come along and toss me off my lazy-ass couch potato lifestyle. I feel like my makey-muscles are atrophied, or maybe just all of my muscles are atrophied since I haven't really done much exercise since San Francisco happened, but all I know is that I really have to start gaining momentum soon, lest I should fall behind in my work for the upcoming gallery show planned for February with L, M and D.

Agh, I really need to stop these late night trysts with my computer, its giving my eyes a serious case of the glazed-overs.

an extremely brief apology in advanced, and an even more brief commentary on mexican artwork

For some reason I feel like I should apologize in advance because as of yet I have been unable to keep any sort of online means of self expression afloat for more than a few months, however I have recently acquired a scanner with no power cord and I hope that its enough to keep myself motivated.

But in the meantime I guess I'll post some artists to keep the momentum up.

José Guadalupe Posada - At times I almost feel embarassed showing this man as one of my inspirations, because my artwork is painfuly similar to his (in my opinion.) This fact does not make me love his artwork any less; especially because I was informed of his art after I started doing all of the skeletons, which makes me feel much less threatened about it (Old habits die hard, I have a hard time shaking the whole concept "nothing is original", and I am paranoid of being labeled a copycat, so what). His work is really great, and the best manner I have found to describe it is Albrecht Durer's Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse on ketamine mixed with Mexican folk art. Honestly, I love just about everything that has to do with Latin American culture, and I've always been envious because such a great group of artists were from Latin America, Rivera and Kahlo come to mind, of course, but there are many others. Frieda Kahlo was one of my favorite artists in elementary school, before this whole art school education scene had even entered my life, but I completely forgot about her until recently. Moisés o Nucleo Solar is one of my favorite pieces of all time, definitely, but I can't find any decent picures of it on the internet anywhere.