Q: My gray colors look blue. Does my snow call for eyes?
Quit striking with a hit.
Air all means. Embrace your wit.
Be your shape longish ape.
Rake rough, lay flat your crop, dash, slat.
Play in three-piece suits, mad, spiky sharp with cash.
Push your go-to blue pen, but restrict yourself.
Picture a long French blue in a charcoal over Sue.
Sweat in red, burn mustard, or punch the glass.
Maintain non-reflective taupe.
And, of course…
Drink water, keep your kin!
blackout composition, source: “Ask Teri”, by Teri Agins, The Wall Street Journal, 5/31/12.
in situ below….
Posted by Tom Busillo on May 31, 2012
Posted by Tom Busillo on May 30, 2012
in the seagull pirouettes
the seal pistols
an honorific soporific
where the hog would go
in the scythe pipelines
the suntrap and the sash
inside a crate of lightning
wrapping fireflies white ash
so I float a daemon ship
bleach rogue crankshafts
I bleed a bed of springs
trade the wires for a raft
I transport sleds of fog
slaughterhouse the hourglass
rub the cramp into the crayon
rub the crayon in the grass
I bird the great seabadger
I mint the satellite
melt the hobby-horse to honey
caress a police floodlight
yes, I hoist the single lily
embrace the double flinch
shine the mirror pistons
pull a razor through a pinch
Posted by Tom Busillo on May 29, 2012
your way for you
my I’m this too
an inside current
motel soap chest
a silent shock
to fast arrest
the smoking hand
our bathtub bathing’s
in a box of pulse
our progression’s forced regression
back to the mean
Posted by Tom Busillo on May 28, 2012
Every exit is an entrance
to somewhere else
except when you find yourself
in a square room
whose four walls each have
at their midpoint
a door which when exited
has the effect of
re-entering the room
via the door opposite of
the door being exited.
In rooms like this
you’re pretty much
Posted by Tom Busillo on May 27, 2012
Posted by Tom Busillo on May 26, 2012
Posted by Tom Busillo on May 25, 2012
Posted by Tom Busillo on May 24, 2012
Posted by Tom Busillo on May 23, 2012
Q: I am going to a party at a private club. I have ears that stand out. I am a lost saw.
A: No little shine inside – and out?
Look for bright shade, a purple peach or an unusual mute.
Heat the flat. Ring the dress. Relax in a tug.
If your arms look elbow-length, skip and faint.
Get your freshly blown out light done professionally with false eyelashes.
Smile so your teeth count.
Out of the cocktail? Survey the door and stride in the hive.
Keep circulating with a ring.
The party is always easier when you’re tall!
blackout composition, source: “Ask I,” Teri Agins, The Wall Street Journal, 5/24/12
in situ below…
Posted by Tom Busillo on May 22, 2012