TELL ME (for Michael D Folsom)

what's
more
uplifting
in
life
than
a
large
gentle
man
in
his
latter
years
strolling
around
smiling
waving
nodding
his
eyes
twinkling
with
forgiveness?

HOW THE HELL

could 
you
possibly 
feel
comfortable
feeling
comfortable?

IT'S ALMOST INTERESTING

how absolutely
uninteresting
he is

POEMS

write
poems

IT'S STRANGE

I've
always
liked
seeing
that
last
bit
of
toilet
paper
for
some
reason
I
enjoy
seeing
that
brown
tube
exposed
I
don't
know
you
tell
me
I
guess
I
just
prefer
to
see
the
end
of
anything

LAUGHTER (for Paul Reed)

like
light
through
the
sadness
of
the
fog

WHAT ABOUT A SAILBOAT, YOU KNOW, LIKE ONE OF THOSE OLD WOODEN SCHOONERS?

no
even
those
are
stupid
now

THE ONLY THING I WOULD EVER BE WILLING TO BET ON

is
that 
this
is
our
death
and
death
is
our
birth

MOSTLY

I 
just 
think
it's
the 
feeling
of 
pulling
or
pushing
something
out
of
something

SOMEWHERE IN THE DISTANCE

when
every
thing
you
hold
is
gone
all
the
words
all
the
faces
the
laughter
the
sadness
all
of
it
fading
turning
bending
bowing
like
a
dying
leaf
please
don't
tell
me
you
don't
know
what
I'm
saying
don't
tell
me
you
can't
feel
it
emptying
out
of
you
come
on
just
take
a
look
it's
just
right
there
by
your
feet
that's
right
I
told
you
there's
a
leak
there's
always
been
a
leak
and
there's
nothing
you
can
do
about
it
I'm
sorry
but
it's
just
gonna
keep
pouring
out
of
you
like
that
oh
man
now
I
wish
I
hadn't
have
told
you
but
really
what's
even
left
for
us
anymore?
what's
another
anything
at
this
point?
I
suppose
I
do
have
a
couple
of
friends
I'd
like
to
see
once
more
I
have
my
wife
my
boys
my
family
and
there
will
always
be
things
to
look
at
another
round
of
children
to
run
through
the
dream
but
it's
the
strangeness
of
it
all
isn't
it?
that's
what
does
this
to
us
the
strangeness
of
your
body
the
betrayal
of
your
mind
the
madness
of
ever
being
here
at
all
to
have
to
swat
at
another
fly
to
pay
another
bill
to
have
to
reach
for
another
piece
of
toilet
paper
the
humiliation
of
having
to
sit
there
above
another
mountain
of
shit
Jesus
Christ
it's
fucking
ridiculous!
I
remember
once
looking
back
at
this
very
thing
looking
back
at
it
from
a
now
not
even
how
could
that
be?
where
was
I?
but
it's
true
I'm
telling
you
it's
true
only
there
wasn't
the
fog
this
white
fog
that
keeps
rolling
in
clouding
my
memories
as
it
drifts
through
our
graves
ah,
you
know
the
whole
thing
could
easily
just
be
a
great
big
joke
all
the
murder
even
like
some
one
being
burned
alive
laughing
but
then
no
I
don't
think
so
I
think
there
really
is
some
thing
more
some
thing
else
some
thing
there
up
ahead
or
behind
us
finally
some
where
in
the
distance

VACATION

I
guess
I
just
don't
understand
the
point
of
going
anywhere
unless
there's
a
good
chance
you
might
never
come
back

COME ON

you
have
an
imagination
whenever
you
see
a
pile
of
dog
shit
on
the
side
walk
don't
you
invent
the
image
of
the

asshole

owner
in
your
head?

THE APPROPRIATE RESPONSE

Open your eyes as wide as possible while smiling as big as you can. Is that as high as you can raise your eyebrows? You almost have to make it hurt. That's about it, but don't let your teeth touch, leave just a bit of a gap. There, you got it. Go look at yourself in the mirror. Now isn't that how we should all look? Isn't that the appropriate response?

ENOUGH

it's
like
movies
now
you
know
even
if
it's
something
I
would
really
like
to
see
I
still
have
no
desire
to
see
it

OKAY BUT

you
have
to
be
willing
to
admit
the
very
last
thing
you
would
ever
want
to
admit
to
the
absolute
worst
person
in
the
world
you
could
ever
admit
it
to

IT'S YOUR REASON

so
go
ahead
jimmy
crack
that
corn
who
the
hell
cares
if
no
one
cares?

STAYING

when left alone
he would always
say to himself,
"I'm ready to die"
he said it out loud
while doing the dishes
while doing the laundry
while mowing the yard
"I'm ready to die, I think
I'm just ready to die"
you gotta understand
this was not at all a
depressing thought
it was just that he felt
that he'd seen enough
like anything else was
superfluous, like most
things in life which are
basically just in the way

ON BROADBAND

or not just
technology
and shit
you know
I'm talking
about with
everything
it's like
wherever
you are
whatever
you're doing
as long as
you have the
mind of an
artist, whatever
changes that
brought you
there, that
led you to it
are always
pretty much
in direct
proportion
to what was
lost

FUCK THAT

don't
ever
let
anyone
tell
you
how
to
do
it

it's
all
yours
and
it's
all
you
got

even
if
someone
offered
you
a
million
dollars
or
put
a
gun
to
your
head
don't
do
it
close
your
eyes
and
take
the
shot

and
trust
me
on
this-
anyone
who
thinks
they
know
doesn't
know
shit

so
just
keep
doing
it
your
way
the
only
way
you
know
how
the
only
way
that
feels
right

take
your
time
with
it
and
try
to
go
easy
on
yourself

I
promise
eventually
it's
gonna
work
it's
the
only
way
it's
gonna
work

SPACEMAN

it's
like
trying
to
orbit
just
out
of
orbit

FISH

all
you
gotta
do
is
stand
there
quietly
and
maybe
hand
me
the
net

HURRY

just
grab
it
and
drag
it
out
there
we'll
worry
about
what
it
is
later

YOU

be
like
the
path
of
the
butterfly

ARE WE THERE YET?

I
don't
know,
is
the 
humiliation
overtaking
the
pain?

LOVE

like
flowers
in
the
fist
of
our
pain

PURSUE

what
you
want
to
see

REFRESHING

or then
how it
is when
we see
people
weak
when 
we see
them
succumb
the sight
of them
so phony
the belly
of what
they are

HEY

did
you
know
all
your
memories
are
wrong

TRY

looking
at the
ceiling
at the
corners
at the
walls
of
places

THE KEY

IS
you
don't
have
to 
do
anything
you
literally
do
not
have
to
know
a
thing
all
you
have
to
do
is
let
it
have
its
way
with
you

IT'S REFRESHING

that
most 
of
us
still 
seem
to
look
or
even
stop
what
we're
doing
when
we
see
something
floating

WHY

the
hell
would
I
want
to
do
anything
that
does
anything?

AH YES

how 
the
redemption
always
comes
too 
late

IT'S LIKE

it must
mean
every
thing
in the
world
but 
then
nothing
at all

ALRIGHT, HERE'S YOUR GODDAMN POEM, MIKE: THE HYENA

How
'bout
I
just
paint
you 
a
hyena
smiling
instead
of
a
poem?

SIGHTINGS

it's becoming
clear that we
are the ghosts

PUNK

or

you

can 

just

push

the

whole

goddamn

thing

right

over

the

edge

IT SPLITS

things
split

I MUST ADMIT

there's
part
of
me
that
will
never
be
satisfied
until
they
hang
me
in
a
public
square

MODELING 101

"Wait, no, it was Eddie Bauer I think. No, that's right, it was that other catalog. Shit, I forgot the name of it. Where the hell were we? I think we were in Colorado? No no, that's right, it WAS Eddie Bauer! We were in Utah. No, wait, shit, it was Whistler! That's right, cause they had all that Olympic shit there. Anyway, I got drunk the night before and ate a bunch of sushi and all day long, I just kept having the worst shits..."

LOOK

the world's
already been
beaten and 
raped, you
might as well
get down
there and
get yourself
a few pumps

NO,

I'm really
an uplifter
I believe 
strongly in
people's
nihilism.

WHY

do
I
sometimes
still
feel
like
I 
want
to
talk
to
someone,
but
when
I
really
think
about
it,
I
have
absolutely
no
desire
to
talk
to
anyone,
and
whenever
I
do,
I
always
wish
I
hadn't?

THOMAS THE TRAIN WAS A NAZI SYMPATHIZER!

"No, dude, that's fuckin' hilarious!"

"Hey, he's a German train, right? I'm sure he was made in Germany. Okay, so that's your job, you just write the script. I've gotta guy who can do it all."

"Yeah, alright. Man, like we could just have him on trial. The whole island of Sodor will be in an uproar with all sorts of press and shit. 'THOMAS THE TRAIN WAS A NAZI SYMPATHIZER!' We'll put the poor fucker on the stand. Everyone will turn against him, all the other trains, what's his name, Sir Topham Hatt? But I swear I didn't know those were people back there! I promise, I had no idea! I thought they were cows! I have no neck, see, I can't see what's going on behind me! Oh God! What have I done?!'"

"It's fuckin' great. Haha! I love it! Let's do it!"

"Really? Yeah, I don't know. Why not just write something ABOUT doing it? I could just write something tomorrow about us talking about it or something. I mean, what's the difference?"

"Yeah, I guess. Hey, you got any George Dickel?"

GODDAMMIT

Goddammit, there must be someone out there who's willin' to pay me like, I don't know, maybe 7 or 8 grand a month so I focus full time on my Facebooking! Oh, and I guess I'll need a new health plan with dental for the family. The shit we have now's pretty fragile. I'm not looking for any credit or anything. I've lost all desire to write anything for "real". I've lived enough to know that wouldn't make an ounce of difference. Basically, I just like to make stupid shit out of words, that's all. I mean, hell, I'll even start a new page and pretend to be them. It's just the only thing I've ever found that seems to be able to keep me out of the nuthouse.

I'M VERY OPTIMISTIC

Fuck you, man, I'm very optimistic. Seriously, I feel like you could lock me in a room with anyone you want, I mean, like Glenn Beck or Kenny Chesney, or one of those fuckin' douchebags from the Bachelorette or something. It doesn't matter, just give me a computer that's hooked up to the internet and you know, you're gonna have to tie them down and sew their mouth shut, but in a day or two, I promise, they're gonna be hooked on the Chinese elephant man and beheadings and all that horrible shit comin' out of Syria. They're gonna be able to recite Bukowski and that great rant from Crumb. I'll have them droppin' Jesus for Dylan and Henry Miller. Hell, I may even get 'em to surrender to Jandek? I mean, if you caught me when I'm strong, when I'm completely out of my fuckin' mind, I bet I could do a whole seminar and take down all the Kardashians or my entire high school class. Well, maybe not Paul Reed. He's just totally fucked.

SKEET 7/10/23

"It's basically a suicide mission. The artist fully engaged in life with friends and family, a real job, kids; one who doesn't hide within the cowardly art scene, he is the one and only soldier of truth. He is a deeply embedded journalist with his fuckin' life on the line. His friends and family are the generals and the troops, and if he does his job correctly, his truth will be looked upon as a betrayal. And believe me, they will want revenge, justice, perhaps his execution. Those other "artists"? I don't know, what about 'em? What the hell could they possibly give you? You'd be better off watching Fox News." - Skeet Giddens 7/10/13

THE DOCILE ARTIST

lacking rage
surrounded
by others who
lack any rage
applauding
themselves
encouraging
others to get
involved, to
find support
looking around
at openings
at parties of
foundations
charity functions
party after party
while they stand
around, holding
their drinks, hardly
even drinking
their drinks
entering contests
contest after contest
spending time
getting grants
getting an
award perhaps
making it work
shipping it out
this their true art-
this business
of escaping life
of hiding within
this cowardly
scene

HEY

I'm just
eating
my way
out of
what 
ate me

LISTEN

you
will
start
to
see
it
you
will
see
their
sneers
their
glances
they
will
be
looking
you
over
from
across
the
room
searching
for
any
weakness
but
there
will
be
nothing
for
them
to
go
on
because
you
will
have
already
handed
those
over
too

IT'S EASY

you
just
have
to
get
to
where
you
could
care
less
if
it
never
works
and
you
simply
have
to
die
with
it

BATTLE PLAN

the
earlier
you
surrender
the
easier
it
is
to
escape

FOR ME

stay
inside
the
outside
of
it

FOR DIANA ROSS

"Do you know where you're going to? Do you like the things that life is showing you?"

What? Jesus! I mean, I don't know, yes and no. Mostly no. Mainly I just look out of this goddamn head I've been put in. I don't know. What the hell do you wanna know for anyway? Fuck, man, I'm a jittery fuckin' mess! How could anyone not be? I mean, that's the most frightening thing, to come across people who don't even seem to notice anything's wrong. Or I don't know, it's like I just saw some asshole driving this big ass truck. I really don't know why it bothers me so much. I just don't understand why anyone would need to drive a truck like that. I mean, what else are they capable of? You know, I try not to hate people. I really do. But fuck, man. I just hope I can find a way to take it a little bit easy today. Shit's been real hard lately.

SCHOOL

I

liked
the
erasers
and
those
overhead
projectors
the
cafeteria
trays
were
kind
of
cool
you
know
with
their
little
compartments
and
the
food
really
wasn't
all
that
bad
some

of 

the 

girls 

had 

nice

asses

but

other

than 

that

there

really

wasn't

much