Saturday, December 31, 2016
I was resting on the fuzz of a giant peach and the softness felt so good against my naked body. I yawned lazily and rolled over and felt my pubic hair mesh with the peach fuzz and it's softness intertwining with my beard and it's gentle buoyancy was a dream. Just as I was wondering how I got so lucky, it started rolling down the mountain and I had to leap up from my dreamy stupor and start running on the spot so as to stay on top of the peach. Naked and flailing, I felt rather less relaxed than I did during the pube nestling era detailed earlier.
Friday, December 30, 2016
A horse bit a big chunk out of my flank and organs were oozing out and making my white shirt sticky and red, not to mention it having a big hole bitten out of it. "Hey, Horse!" I said, "this a fancy double gauze cotton shirt you just ruined. You gonna pay for that?" The horse gave a snooty harrumph and turned it's head and trotted away. As more and more blood and organs and goop seeped out of my gaping wound I felt myself growing lightheaded and closer to death, but my raging indignation at this breach of social etiquette would surely keep me alive at least another few minutes.
Tuesday, December 27, 2016
"I can't cry just like that", he said, "you gonna have to slap me around me a little if we gonna get these tears into the jar and turf it off the cliff and satisfy Poseidon". So she slapped him around good, back and front handed. He was getting red-faced and trembling in the lip a little, but it wasn't coming fast enough. She grabbed a poker out the fire and started thinking about terrible things she could come up with about his mother and about the the puppy dog that had died the day after Christmas when he was five.
Thursday, December 22, 2016
Cheeping bird waiting for their mother to vomit up some food decide that that they want pop tarts, and not predigested pop tarts, some straight out of the packet, and hot cocoa too. Mother says, "OK, but we don't got no toaster or electricity or anything up here in the nest so you gonna have to climb onto me and i'll fly us over to people house and we'll sneak in and have some pop tarts". So the little cheeping birdies hop on and they cruise over and slip in through an open window. Then the cheeping little birdies get off their mothers back and the whole gang of them do that silly high stepping cat-burglar walk across the bench toward the pop tarts.
Wednesday, December 21, 2016
As I was being photographed I decided to leave my body and go inside the camera. I passed through the lens and was almost cut in half by the shutter, but i made it through, Indiana Jones style, my spirit grabbing it's spirit hat at the last moment at the risk of getting it's spirit hand chopped off. I floated all through the inside of the camera, running my spirit fingers along it's gears and levers, smelling the film, laying along the curved surfaces. It was a holy place.
Monday, December 19, 2016
A peaceful rodent sleeps most of it's life away, emerging only to root around for food in the long grass and to briefly sun it's belly. On one particular occasion of belly sunning, a hawk swoops down and clutches the rodent in it's claws. The claws fit so snugly against it's belly, there is pain but it's a goooooood pain. The rodent knows the hawk can feel something there too. As they fly back toward the hawk's rocky cave home, it looks down now and then and makes eye contact with the rodent. Hard eye contact. It still isn't sure whether it will eat the rodent or attempt to make a life together, but it knows these raw, fresh feelings are making it hard to concentrate on flapping.
Sunday, December 18, 2016
Gooey feelings can both impede and make ones life easier to circumnavigate. The nausea can make it difficult to eat foods and thus maintain the engine that powers ones legs, arms and head, but the floating can be useful for passing through a crowd of people by simply hovering over the top of them and bobbing your way through the air with a dopey look on your face. Overall, i will give gooey feelings an 8.5 out of ten and recommend them to those who appreciate tension and altered states and purple clouds.
Thursday, December 15, 2016
Neurosurgeons operating in the wind have to compensate for big breezes and go to start cutting into your brain at precisely the wrong place, knowing that the imminent big gust will blow their scalpel right into the correct place to make your brain function in the manner of some atomic nazi superman and not paralyze you completely or make you forever mix up purple and orange. It makes them sweat with nausea and the cold wind on their sweat reminds them of that feeling of coming to, post-orgasm, when all of a sudden you are aware of how sweaty and puffed you are and slowly you reconnect with the present dimension yet you carry a glow carried over from the dimension of orgasm.
Wednesday, December 14, 2016
A Latin-American man in shorts and a singlet roller-skates haphazardly toward the bottle shop. He has not roller-skated since he was a boy, and these roller-skates do not really fit him, and he is rather drunk already. All the same, there is a giddy thrill in flying along on wheels, feeling that he himself is the vehicle and his clothing is the passenger. What a thrill it might be to roller-skate naked? he thinks. The cool wind blowing all through his pubic hair and hitting his sweaty back and the sunshine beating down on his fleshy human body as he flies along. Oh the sensuality and danger of it all!
Tuesday, December 13, 2016
I bathed in the moon river and felt a healthy phosphorous glow all over. Each droplet seemed to go into my pores, wiggle around a little and pop back out to slide down my chest and into my armpit and run back down into the shimmering stream it came from. I arched my back and looked out into space and I could see another moon, lighting up the moon river in a white glow of pure explosive light light light. I opened my eyes wide.
Monday, December 12, 2016
Arrows pierced through the side of the thatched roof cottage. Smoke was everywhere. If I couldn't turn into a purple mist soon and seep out through the thatched roof of this thatched roof cottage, I was going to be a corpsed up dead cadaver person before i could say twoallbeefpattiesspecialsaucelettucechessepicklesoniononaseassmeseedbun. I closed my eyes and concentrated real hard and went urrrnnngggggghh. A large beard pushed right on out of my chin, sprouting like time lapse footage in a nature documentary. Obviously that was the wrong kind of unngggghhhh.
Thursday, December 8, 2016
Heavy raindrops drip off the roof in great globs and it's the most beautiful rain I've ever seen, coating the barbecue and the exercise bike and the railing in fine living crystals like they've been dressed by the worlds most fabulous designer to walk down the red carpet at the latin grammy awards. I can just see the barbecue and the exercise bike clomping down that red carpet together now, bejeweled to the motherfucker, waving at the adoring crowd. Goodness it's nice to be alive sometimes when the wind hits you and the the sounds of life are all round.
Wednesday, December 7, 2016
Birds called to each other from across the neighborhood. They were plotting the overthrow of humanity. Little did they know I could understand bird calls and was aware of every element of their devious plot. As I listened though, I thought about how we humans were fucking everything up and that perhaps it was time to let birds have a go at running the planet. So I just put my feet up and sipped my lemonade and whistled a little tune about a river on the moon, and looked forward to my species' enslavement and the glorious future the earth would have under bird custodianship. Oh, how the flowers would bloom in brighter colours than ever before, and the trees would grow tall and sturdy, and the birds would sit on the branches and sing in perfect harmony, swaying back and forth in unison.
Tuesday, December 6, 2016
I wrapped myself completely in masking tape, except for my mouth. Then I wandered through the garden, feeling around with my hands for berries hanging from trees. I felt the texture and size of each one and really savoured the feeling, but I ate them all indiscriminately. On the fifth berry I started to feel quite ill. Sweat soaked my masking tape. I hopped along faster, gorging on more berries, hoping i would come upon an antidote for whichever one was making me feel this way.
Monday, December 5, 2016
I followed a crow. It seemed to me it did not know I was following it and the thrill of espionage pulsed all through me. It seemed so full of purpose, yet so aimless. Walking about, hopping up on railings looking down. Flying off the ground just a little and coming down again, scrabbling about. It walked around a concrete block and down into a valley and I kept trying to tail it at a distance but it somehow eluded me and disappeared without my seeing it go. I was giddy from the thrill of it all. I wandered back to the gathering of elderly Italians with my heart beating and a glow all over me.
Sunday, December 4, 2016
The violins thrummed so violently that the little wire giraffes encased in glass began to tremble. The glass cracked. They shook it off and began to walk gingerly across the coffee table, first gentle attempts at ambulation for creatures that had been encased since the moment they were whole. The mother and daughter made tender steps over toward the bear shaped honey container. They searched it's plastic eyes for signs of friendship. It at least did not appear to be an angry bear, so they approached cautiously and licked honey off it's side with small, wiry tongues.
Saturday, December 3, 2016
Orange blossoms bloomed out of my shoulders. They were very pretty and I was pleased. I cut holes in the shoulders of all my shirts and jackets so as not t crush them and so I could show them off properly. I was swanning down the street feeling very foxy with my my orange blossom shoulder pad outerwear when a giant bee leaning against a lamppost gave me a hard, sexy look. I leaned against the fence and played with my flowers and shot an insouciant look back.
Friday, December 2, 2016
I was leaned against a tree, embraced in a passionate kiss. I could feel the bark against my back and her skin beneath the silk under my hands and her hot breath and our soft moans, and everything was so enraptured that I could pay no attention to the clockwork swans that had surrounded us. They began to peck at our legs and bite our ribs and press us hard against the tree, but this was only registered through a tiny side window of our minds, we were on the bow of a ship looking out over the ocean and the cabin boy was down below watching these clockwork swans through the porthole. Eventually there were so many clockwork swans that they formed a kind of mountain beneath us, lifting us right onto the top branches of the tree. The sun baked our hair and the clockwork swans bit our ears and we kissed.
Thursday, December 1, 2016
Walking in the gardens, one might see a bird sitting atop a cactus and wonder how this bird does not get spiked. All of a sudden the bird takes flight and carries the great cactus in it's claws. You take flight also and follow the bird, intent on knowing what it's doing with that cactus. You follow it out of the city, through deeper and deeper bush until it enters a cave with some burly looking security birds standing guard out front. You try to saunter on past, whistling the tune to 'Stardust' and ignoring the security, but no dice. They stop you and prod you in the chest and squawk at you what appears to be "where do you think you're going?" "I just wanna know what's gonna happen with that cactus!" you say. "Well that's some shit that's a bird secret", they say, "and you ain't a bird, so scram."