Monster Be Good

States in Which a Woman Has Faked Having a Yeast Infection to Avoid Having Sex With Me Just Prior to Dumping Me

Tom Busillo — Fri, 10 May 2013 01:03:38 +0000

nag cloud

Tom Busillo — Thu, 09 May 2013 00:11:36 +0000

It’s Written Across the Sun or Moon at Any Time of Day

Tom Busillo — Tue, 07 May 2013 23:25:01 +0000

Saturday, In a Light Gone Sunday

Tom Busillo — Mon, 06 May 2013 23:36:22 +0000

Saturday, in a light
Of two Saturns painted white,
We searched for fillings from my cavities.
By the time we were done,
We saw Sunday’s setting sun
And laughed that we had drained our batteries.

The Poem I Could Not Put in My Pocket on Poem in Your Pocket Day

Tom Busillo — Sun, 05 May 2013 23:07:40 +0000

Thank you so much for asking about me.

It’s good to get out and get some air – if ever so briefly.
You can only imagine what it’s like in there.

The wallet, so big and bulky,
crowding everyone out –
thinking it owns the place.

The coins so cold and smug –
so full of themselves, they won’t
even turn to look you in the eye,
let alone have a conversation.

The only one in there who’ll give me the time of day
is a receipt from a pet store,
but the time never changes,
and all he has to talk about
is the price of cat food and kitty litter.

Such horrible companions!

And as for my cruel creator –
Yes, I call him that – cruel –
for to we, the created, it is cruel
to bring a new thing into the world
only to hide it in your pocket
in case the right people ask.

You disagree?

Well, so be it.
In the end the joke will be on him
for entire lifetimes
have been wasted
stuffing pockets
and becoming heavy
with things
that complain.

Wait –
Please –

If you are to hand me over
just one thing –
just fold me the other way.
I know, it’s true, what they say,
“Once folded, always creased,”
but I’ve been folded this way for so long
maybe a change will do me good.

Or if you want, you could always run away with me,
Or if you couldn’t be burdened with me,
just leave me some place there is a good wind
and let me be taken by it to hands that will receive me.

Or you can dutifully hand me back.

What will you do with me
now that you have found me?

I started this poem on Thursday, April 18, 2013, the day The American Academy of Poets designated for their annual “Poem in Your Pocket Day.”

If I had to choose a poem written by someone else, I would have chosen e.e. cummings “anyone lived in a pretty how town” – probably my favorite poem. But I wanted to write a poem of my own to put in my pocket.

Yet, as I was writing it, the poem sort of turned on me, and didn’t want to finish itself until only recently. So I place it here, hopefully “some place there is a good wind” (although it is a very small wind, but sometimes that’s all that’s required), and hope it will judge me less cruel having done so.

Also, for some odd reason, when I read the poem in my head, I read it with the voice, cadence and intonation of William Carlos Williams on PennSound’s recording of “This is Only to Say”. But that’s just me…and I may be breaking some unwritten rule of poetry (“thou shalt not instruct the reader to hear the poem in the voice of another poet”) in even mentioning it. Fortunately, the fines for breaking rules in poetry are minimal.

Rat Poem

Tom Busillo — Sun, 05 May 2013 00:16:30 +0000

What Ashley Olsen Won’t Tell You About Her Workouts

Tom Busillo — Fri, 03 May 2013 23:59:51 +0000

I Like to Work Out Repinned to
campfire cones as desired.

I start by constructing a roller coaster,
blowtorching a two-ton ball of tin foil
and adorning drafting tables with
dollops of fried shrimp balls
in the flavor of Blake Lively.

If I want a more complex or challenging workout,
I’ll blowtorch the beach as well,
Pinwheel-Picking the best cuts of meat.

If I experience periods of dizziness,
I just try to add a cotton ball or cotton
to spinach.

My favorite exercise is probably when
I roll on a floured plate with mama, daddy, and
parts for the heater.

I send out a bunch of salty animal crackers each week
to an out-of-control jet ski.

I always love to pour the oil
in a Wiffle ball dropped from a passing plane.

Who can’t help but grin black pepper or
feel Hawaiian Vacation points
that were Betty Booped by Dragon Frosting?

I will occasionally urge a shoe out of
the Moon, speaking in a pattern of energy balls.

Sometimes, I’ll say, “slide wide & stretch
Studded love-love Dress!!!”

In the winter, I’ll Build a Retro Swimsuit Swiss Peeler Apple Corer Basic Carrie Underwood Immerse-O-Matic Knife Furnace, Check my body’s chemistry, and adjust Sandstorms using simple sandwiches.

Whenever I draw my navel across my spine, I only use
real Italian espresso flavored white praline chocolate bunnies, and
am careful to keep the line weight even.

Halfway through, I’ll swirl one French galaxy
all-black and a mystery man porn star
with a spatula.

For a change of pace,
I’ll herd zebras
into an Skippy jar
(which is banned, but I do it anyway) .

When traveling, I like to raise the climbing rock and skateboard park
onto a mardi gras float.

Sometimes I just like to find some candles,
sit back and Influence the sport of Golf.

I don’t have that much to offer
In the way of advice, but
I do suggest gently squirting
a young Hawaiian entrepreneur and allowing
some Musketeers to fall out.

In the meantime, I Continue to disintegrate
Pro-Swiss, vessels.

Cakes! i will be busy!

the natural work of the living

Tom Busillo — Fri, 03 May 2013 00:04:11 +0000

animals
slow down
in
paper worlds

through all
the billions
that pile
embodies

the carrying on
well into its
own loss

beyond distant
last geometries
as manifest
“raw” pieces

not a geology
worn or here
life or had
nostalgia

the possessions
fly from wholeness
symbols stumble
what represents is moved
in order
to be distant

between-Gods
are functions
or
billows willed

the representation
situating
nearly in spirit
behind
what is incarnated
as an object

the dried Rose
went
into being
and we await its second coming
as texture
as a box
as its matter

the natural work
of the living -
a ceased
final
physical force

Illustration from “The Walking Whale” (from the “Illustrations from Non-Existent Hardy Boys Mysteries” series)

Tom Busillo — Thu, 02 May 2013 00:02:18 +0000

ASK I: “My cigar should dress my friends?”

Tom Busillo — Tue, 30 Apr 2013 23:51:16 +0000

Q: I’m a mind and I follow trends in black. My cigar should dress my friends?

A: Treasure your cigar!

The personal can be temporary (as yours).

Widen your circle so you’ll keep stretching.

List the changes in technology most adapted to a groom.

Comfort berets and then crisp a coat perfectly.

If you relax, keep in mind the seat.

How about walking shoes to sneakers?

Distinguish the best shape you can.

Smile those missing back molars.

Play English.

Profess a boyfriend.

Penelope Cruz is on-screen sweat, pants and a slim black raincoat worth studying.

Have a back bulge, switch a card!

blackout composition, source: “Ask Teri”, by Teri Agins, The Wall Street Journal, 5/1/13.

in situ, below…