by Michael Bauman
abounds us as we walk through the flood gates, never questioning where we came
from or who we are. Sentimental capacities crowd our lives with liquids not yet
understood by the human race. We can truly begin to induce the womb and list
all our preoccupations in order of importance. Pickled inheritance makes the
room smell of otter bone and flesh. Listening to the pussy willows outside as
they flutter in the breeze. Bumble bee once told me of her inspirations. The
men and women that shaped her psyche and molded her into a temptress of the
and thirsty, I searched for more out of the industrial mechanics that were
shipped out in groups of many. Long before wondering what would become of the
old wool train. Samples of desk mule and tile-batter ruin my mood as I walk
into the kitchen for a drink. Sapphire rubies fall from my lips as I take a
second look at the bear trap in the corner of the room. What would happen to my
courses through my veins as mumbled once by the prince of tides, leaving little
to the imagination of young ones. "Hold it over here" said the tiny
blueberry muffin girl, staring deeply into his eyes. He grimaced, only willing
to hold his sarcoma, Jeremy leaped forward trying to stop the madness from
spreading past this darkened room.
may not have the upper body strength to wander as far as we should from this
place. We have candy lines and red leeches on our side, something no one could
argue with. Time to take out Biscuit, but first the dome.
births are so beautiful" said the angel Ark almighty, sometimes referred
to as Archimedes. Born soon, water babies know exactly who they are, weeping
from tree-limbs under a silver moon.
Saturday night and the lights lay dim. Honey in my tea sure sounds delightful,
many thanks! Lustrous bounty fills my head as we listen to the dreambeats of
madness. Misty darling, won't you fetch my perched bird? He's sitting on the
long side, the one by the Cartier and switch blade machine. You know it’s the
same one you so delicately placed under my chin as I slept. Listen to Penelope,
she knows all the books, but hey, what about the dome?
taking it from my side, the ever-wondering Beetlejuice monster stands similarly
like a shadow I once vanquished. Tomatoes in my pasta never seemed like a good
idea, but surprisingly I winced at the thought of never finding them again. Why
so toiled? I'll tell you, almost never did I look back when filling up the tank
on alongside the old dust road. Diner happy as I stand downwind. Sure was a
beautiful day to paint.
dolls leer at me as I try to sleep. Go away demon seeds, you're not wanted
anywhere around here at all! The dolls are on my nuts now. Why try me? I'll win
every time, you'll see how you hurt my life. But I'm not worried, Alice always
find her way through the looking glass simply by clicking her little red shoes.
Angry birds don't fly far from home.
sunlight dimming wand was waved through the air like a car trying to get out of
a pretentious bind. He lifted his gum-filled taco to the lady’s lips, never
asking if she even wanted to dance. “Walk me home” it bellowed, “Wash my feet
and then cleanse my soul.” Meow, ouch! Sure isn’t the day for such a glide, now
the cone with the utmost delicate maneuvers, we sat across the water looking
out at steamships. All that steel and no driver really makes me worry as I live
only 2 miles from the Moore. Deliberately ignoring the obvious, Olivia lifted
her pampered colored overalls and threw them at Tim like she was mad at him.
Never knowing everything, the petrified tree lies dead-center in the steamy
bog…Then the happy critters come. Look over there, it’s Penelope with the rice!
Perfect for throwing into the dome as it’s where all the power plays go down.
You haven’t yet put a sponge to my throat dear boy, how come?
lucky charms, remember them? I don’t ever want to end up like one of those
delinquent children being called into principal McKinney’s office on a Saturday
afternoon. Sarah-Lee Roth, get the fuck in here before I choke you with your
own blonde braid. Lord have mercy!
Sally once told me of a wishing-well that went all the way from here to
Siberia. I always wondered how long it would take to jump in, always tipping my
hat on the breathing part. Let me ask you a question mate, how’s the dog? Never
mind all the countless nights I spent rolling sushi, and for what? That little
liver plant is leaking like a faucet, mocking my very existence. Oh no, please
don’t let me ponder anything more until I have figured out the meaning of life.
mushrooms ruin everything below from my textbooks, a liverwurst sandwich,
hand-held portals and a battery pack. All stacked one on top of the other until
I can't stand it anymore. Now we leave. Great Lakes, I haven’t even seen your
beauty and yet here I am melting plants freely amongst all my stuff. It’s gonna
be a long one, I can tell. Great!
gears are a thing of the past. Never before had I wandered so freely through a
field of dandelions and fresh cut daises. Was this all I had to offer the
world, a lit biscuit served to the mouths of many? Leaving little to the
imagination as I thrust toward the twilight sky, transcending into light. What
a beautiful night for a trip to the violent lined soaked couch cushions of this
generation and the one before.
weighs down my lustrous soul. Looking through the pine covered windows as I
dance to the breeze. Luscious lips wrap around me as I grab onto the everlasting
weeds at the bottom of the boathouse. Sail away with me, come follow us through
this whirlwind of life’s spectacles. Side show tickets sure have gotten steep.
Better leave it to the tin man of many sorts. Watch out for the boy made
entirely of gold and silver, he’s not a pleasant one to argue with. Again, it
all comes back down to the dome.
always been a word that sounded magical to me. Never looking past the prior
attempts at happiness. Word to your wife, the eloquent retard with the blank
stare. Go fuck yourself ducksteen Bill. RAIN Brushing down on me like pellets
falling out the barrel of a broken gun. Watch towers of the east, come get me.
Show yourselves for the true coward that you are and always will be. Come fly
away is a command by the lord himself. Frolic away as I chase you down with
machete rubies and other various jewels alike. Ponder this, cheese. Bahahah you
won’t catch me, I’m the powdered toast man.
I had a cat
once when I was young and some grapes for breakfast. “Nothing prior?” asked
Mira as I lynch me another one. Hang em’ from the bull’s horns as I decide what
to do with the rest of him. Cauldron bubbles fly around as floating bumble
bees. Will this ever stop? Penelope always asks me the same question, which to
this day I still cannot bring myself to answer. She’d ask me “do you like your
tea hot, cold or room temperature?” WHYY, just leave me alone!
are my favorite, if I do say so myself. Mugs can be vicious and also not that
pleasant to hold. Tall glasses look good but only with frosted edges. Plastic
materials make things so much more convenient as I throw out dishes along with
my guts, soaring through the air like a witch on a vacuum cleaner.
When I was
young my mother loved her vac, she’d call it the son she never had even with me
sitting right there. “Play with me mommy, don’t lock me out. Don’t scoop me
up.” I’d sit at the top of the stairs in our duplex apartment. The bathroom was
at the top on the right. Smells of burnt cotton escape from the doors bottom
crack and still resonate to me still to this day. I never saw the point of it
all. Just use plastic cups and save yourself the stress and embarrassment.
Clearly dirty dishes drove my mother insane and it hasn’t gotten good for
What did Buddha
drink when he was flesh? Hot or cold tea, who knows? When was that even, in the
1700’s? All these questions and not a single reference for answers. Why must we
pose all these questions when not even the true poets of our past can hook us
up with a response? Okay final question, I promise. How tall is the largest
mountain and can I steal a piece for my armoire at home? Woops a daily double.
Woo-ray, I can’t see sand anymore. Finally, I’m out of the desert.
know what the room feels like when I’m not in it ’cause I always will be. Ugh,
save me from myself and my own sensibilities. Why keep it anyway? It needs
hardly requires any nurture. A high-top kitchen table lays to the left on its
side. I know something less than desirable happened here, between the sink and
the stove. Seems way too far gone for any reconciliation to occur, right? Or
what’s happening? Screw it let’s do this!
TRAINS GO AWAY, COME ON BACK ANOTHER DAY. TRAINS TRAINS GO AWAY, COME ON BACK
ANOTHER DAY. TRAINS TRAINS GO AWAY, COME ON BACK ANOTHER DAY. Over and over
again in my head like a Nelly track. Make me stop, my singing voice throws off
everyone else in unison. Unicorned game-head chickens run freely across the
farm. Those are the small ones, right? Any discipline for these chickens or
what’s happening? Baby don’t be sad, I’ll take care of this. I’ll take care of
everything from now on. Don’t you worry. Just rest your head down gently on the
pillow as I pour the arsenic in your haterade while you sleep. But mother, please
give me more.
Behold to my surprise – The
BMG, aka Blueberry Muffin Girl, Olivia, Aunt Sally, the Ringworm Dolls, Buckeye
and even the dome is all me. That’s right, EVEN THE DOME! Truth be told, I am
what I am, and what I am is who I’ve always been – a truncated elephant holding
tightly upwards onto his rusty trombone. At the very least I would like to one
day turn into the benevolent beast that I saw in the park one Saturday night,
in 2013. I’m just a man trying to hold onto my one can of tuna-be-nots, and if
I have to kill the bombastic goat to my left, so be it. Today is the first day,
and tomorrow is the second, but I always end up in the same place every
morning… inside the body of a fat Skitzo.
31, is a Brooklyn Italian Jew from Sheepshead Bay. Devilishly handsome, wildly
successful. A warm-hearted, Gemini cuddler, with a passion for Balinese monkey