http://search.deviantart.com/?q=by:amodestmouse&section=today deviantART RSS for by:amodestmouse en-us Copyright 2009, deviantART.com Wed, 25 Nov 2009 05:21:47 PST deviantART.com http://blogs.law.harvard.edu/tech/rss http://s.deviantart.com/minish/widgets/apple-touch-icon-precomposed.png http://amodestmouse.deviantart.com/journal/27003792/ http://amodestmouse.deviantart.com/journal/27003792/ Thu, 03 Sep 2009 19:33:01 PDT OH PIN LET HER

owe, owe, it hurt. yr message, it hurt. ze anonymous
plank of my own devising smashed
against me leg. zis cruel
Spice of LIFE!!! Leave ze
shitty poems be!!! youre
so to say
right
god nam it, celebrate colors IN traditional
art so to say free

to feel blue about
this, at any time
or another
on and off my
tittering
a peripheried dream, and oh, joy, that the
words i had
streaming
all day, now gone, and that
i'll regret this
and forget this, but yr
kippas assuredly
behind me, i've
no need for
the damn
thing, and
these places
too. they too
sticky. time
as romantic wink
and giggle
cross continent
it be, 'll make this
a jettisoned and
swiveling star
fart swiveling
around the sun, by
the time you've
arrived, haikuish
as ye do. BUT: have
seen the cards
splayed across
table and knowing
what they
not
mean, we talked
of other things: the

WEATHER. it
beautiful, by the way. i later
for 50 cent
consulted the psychic
machine, and seen same cards lit up across screen, in

the mangy corner as
a 15 yr old tom hanks, and we talked of other thing: the WEATHER, its
beautiful. i since got
my own cards. and the pictures
are pretty beautiful, kindness
for example and
the acts of
such. it seems alla
the bitter speculations
i've been propagating
towards it are of the
utmost
necessity, say scientist
ethereal toot, its the
bitterness which seems
to be dissipating, tho
the parameters, settings
and patterns that
i've constructed: dis-
covered, are
very much fluidly
apparent (its been 3
weeks, and i've yet to
change outta
landrys pants,
they TIGHT (so
as to get alla yr ducks
into my pre
ambling fucking
row i have
been to the quakers
house and have
sung. SUNG! as stephanies
brazil would concur! w/'er eyes
watering, banging the wheel, voice
lacing back into the
stereo, alls i need
in the world's
an ankle to guard
against gnats, thats it, by the
way, sometimes i
seem on verge
of gigantic orgasm
who's never fully
reached, i
have great prosperity, gain, travel and
alotta seepy
vaginas
upon my horizon. i
pass wieners
grave
in my own
way, tooting
my horn, which
he then claims, i.e. afternoons off
i stalk into the
park w/ fishing
pole and help
patrick fish for his
dinner, he's a great
inkling to blow
my money on
crack, booze
and it was
a great deal
my fault in
having overextended (hogwash
of ze fish in zis
age, it is advice i've

read

in a book. and
they are delightfully
being burned, everywhere, it
not a flame to be

played

with, as more than
anything the man
loves jesus
slinking by
his cratered lap. BUT. BUT. BUT. BUT. BUT. these buts
they are not at all

not at all as i say, these
buts, but i
wont explain how this
eludes
to you, seen
a little bit
in everyone, needle and
damage done

mr burroughs,
i believe that
was yr left
eyebrow?

yes. yes. reply mr burroughs. etc. leave
the sudden, eternal figure

a momentary lull

and ya did

and i chomped on it, and i sorry, believe, or
not, but i been smiling
about this
all day. if i really retarted
and really dont think it'll
happen, i'll go to patricks
kenya... to
india. boston, or for whatever
reason western mass: thats
yet to already
unravel

always always, and to whomever, brock

]]> ~amodestmouse http://amodestmouse.deviantart.com/journal/26506458/ http://amodestmouse.deviantart.com/journal/26506458/ Mon, 10 Aug 2009 13:40:36 PDT
my life will die, and repentant bugs
will take its place, my thought
indistinguishable sentiments, pockmarks
upon the bar top
when Aura

looks thru the window, taxi cabs in her eyes. dreaming

is what i’ve got. the potential, it’s
sot. i ran from the brown children

yesterday, down

the sidewalk, they
pirates, attacking, i
clutching an empty pizza bag, running, unable
to sell what’d
already been sold, when

Aura’s

hand upon my shoulder, from the dark
of this room

like a breeze

not tightening

at all. when by Aura’s
eyes
i go swim
by bloated puns,

sententious gests! followed by you
and yr sensuous children
hiccupping! this palace
of bobbing heads
in which
mannerism’s my
only

WORD, backwardly!
fidget! midget!
the swans glide! into the reeds!

awfully

simply back

(into the reeds! swans glide!

]]> ~amodestmouse http://amodestmouse.deviantart.com/journal/25613810/ http://amodestmouse.deviantart.com/journal/25613810/ Sun, 28 Jun 2009 18:41:49 PDT Would you take us to your leader?

- Bawr stretter! Bawr. Bawr. Stretterhawl?

- This is a little plasic model
of the solar system, with working parts.
You are here and we are there and we
are now here with you, is this clear?

- Gawl horrop. Bawr. Abawrhannahanna!

- Where we come from is blue and white
with brown, you see we call the brown
here 'land', the blue is 'sea', and the white
is 'clouds' over land and sea, we live
on the surface of the brown land,
all round is sea and clouds. We are 'men'.
Men come -

- Glawp men! Gawrbenner menko. Menhawl?

- Men come in peace from the third planet
which we call 'earth'. We are earthmen.
Take us earthmen to your leader.

- Thmen? Thmen? Bawr. Bawrhossop.
Yuleeda tan hanna. Harrabost yuleeda.

- I am the yuleeda. You see my hands,
we carry no benner, we come in peace.
The spaceways are all stretterhawn.

- Glawn peacemen all horrobhanna tantko!
Tan come at'mstrossop. Glawp yuleeda!

- Atoms are peacegawl in our harraban.
Menhat worrabost from tan hannahanna.

- You men we know bawrhossoptant. Bawr.
We know yuleeda. Go strawg backspetter quick.

- We cantantabawr, tantingko backspetter now!

- Banghapper now! Yes, third planet back.
Yuleeda will go back blue, white, brown
nowhanna! There is no more talk.

- Gawl han fasthapper?

- No. You must go back to your planet.
Go back in peace, take what you have gained
but quickly.

- Stretterworra gawl, gawl...

- Of course, but nothing is ever the same,
now is it? You'll remember Mercury.

]]> ~amodestmouse http://amodestmouse.deviantart.com/journal/25485824/ http://amodestmouse.deviantart.com/journal/25485824/ Tue, 23 Jun 2009 00:14:16 PDT
THE CLOCKMAKERS OF CREATURES!!!!

Are you the type of person I’d like to join below the restaurant table? Alongside the big feet? Within the deep, black throat of the coat closet? Do you have injuries lagging, bitten arms, velcro shoes? Longer days than I? You smell like a gerbil. You run like a snowflake after a mule, you have funny gums, like they are caught between running and grotesquely smothering your strange teeth, I like your gums. You’re teeth are good. What language is this color written in? How many toes does it take to pick up a handful of water? What pitiful happenstance has caused my mother to bring me here, of all places, to this vast linoleum, to you? I can’t tell whether you’ve already forgotten these things, or whether you’ve never known them in the first place. I like you alright, let’s run.

-craigslist personnal? probably

]]> ~amodestmouse http://amodestmouse.deviantart.com/journal/25351491/ http://amodestmouse.deviantart.com/journal/25351491/ Tue, 16 Jun 2009 12:18:19 PDT
suzy q say: SO new shoes huh? magic new shoes that make you go faster? Hmmm I need some of those! Are you really sure it was all the shoes, nothing to do with all the coffee you have been drinking since your streak of only good brew lately? I have been getting in the habit of getting my morning coffee at my favourite coffee shop. Have seemed to be doing stuff earlier, so I don;t have to rush off to work right away. I sit down outside in the chairs and sip my coffee and read or write....then the cup is empty. I go in for a refill then head off to work,,it seems I am drinking a lot more coffee lately, but for some reason i don't feel any more jittery.


I have a new eating plan, my trainer has given it to me. It is a whole lot less carbs than i usually eat. Most of them in the am. I feel different and a little more energetic.. no a lot more energetic. It is hard to say if this is totally my freedom from carbohydrate addiction or if it is just my normal cycle of high energy after a low cycle... but i do feel boosted in a way...


brock say: tuesday afternoon, and
so fast!!! let
the ballooooooons
go

outside... TOO FAST! SEE MY
SHOES!!! SEE SIX WHITE
STRIPES!!!! 3 DASHED
UPON EACH

SHOE!!! CONGEALED INTO TWO LONG

=====================RODS


OF 'LECTRIC

LIGHT, VANISHING

INTO

THE BLUE


SKY!!!! I MAY NEVER


RETURN!!!! RECUPERATION IS GODS WAY OF====================================================================================================================================================================================================================================================================================================================

]]> ~amodestmouse http://amodestmouse.deviantart.com/journal/25112831/ http://amodestmouse.deviantart.com/journal/25112831/ Wed, 03 Jun 2009 18:12:20 PDT
25 cent to the gallon for the little boys toy trinket of a motor bike
upon a coney island of the carpet! and i sat on it and rode. all
my friends were there on other side of a plastic river and i said "oooglie
doooglie doo!"

that got their attention! then i ran!

and they ran after me across a coney island of the carpet! they
came into the house. they watched me try and cheer my mother up b/c
she'd been eating only hamburgers for dinner, so often that she couldn't remember
if she'd even ate her hamburger for that night...

i helped get a snared frisbee from the tip of a pine tree today.
frisbee men were throwing rocks at it. it was like rescuing a red,
plastic pancake of a kitten for a bunch've ghouly little girls, prancing around
inside of the bones of a bunch've frisbee men.

i am a lovely man,
i certainly am.

what'd what'd You do?

]]> ~amodestmouse http://amodestmouse.deviantart.com/journal/24985123/ http://amodestmouse.deviantart.com/journal/24985123/ Wed, 27 May 2009 18:13:45 PDT dear lost love found wanting,
when it comes to fashion and as if a differentiation from such were
absolutely necessary: everything else... you's got me pinned. you got
me pinned good. i'm starting to really like it. my scale Is
extremely delicate, you are right, ze hat would assuredly transport me
to bizzarro world, ramshackle my whole ensemble, and i'd be the outcast there, up w/ everyone down.
i make pretty good use of what i have, tho, am pragmatic, a crumb
snatcher, the things i collect, frenetically (kind've really make me
wonder about who the hell i am when i find that it is other people who
are looking at them. them blue plastic rings you tear from the nozzle
of a water jug so that cap can snap off, that is in one or more of my
pocket at any given time, they look as if been chewed up, they tweedy
and dilapidated, and they only look that way b/c they actually Have
been chewed up. and for whatever reason you will also find in my
pockets a plethora of these minisculed blue specks of plastic, a great
many of those... and if you were patient, if locked in a cell w/ only
yr pocket if a crackpot, undiscipled alchemist like so forced to face
yr stuttered gifts having funneled them into the wrong taproots alla
yr life if so like that then could work all night by gusty wick at the
sorry blue strip and the tiny blue flecks (which, looks as if been
chewed loose of the sorry blue strip (which, they have... if could
work at them, and in say the morning light hold up yr creation to the
sun shafts mooning thru the bars, well... you would be amazed.. you
would have yourself, intact, one'a them blue plastic rings you tear
from the nozzle of a water jug so that cap can snap off.

it was yr first experiment, things will get even more exciting as they
go, and not too mention bizzarely predictable? like a hummingbird in
yr periferal. he's going to say it: JUST like a hummingbird in yr
periferal!

iiiiiii like it!

]]> ~amodestmouse http://amodestmouse.deviantart.com/journal/24752106/ http://amodestmouse.deviantart.com/journal/24752106/ Thu, 14 May 2009 11:07:25 PDT song







falling. Santa.

]]> ~amodestmouse http://amodestmouse.deviantart.com/journal/24484714/ http://amodestmouse.deviantart.com/journal/24484714/ Tue, 28 Apr 2009 17:15:05 PDT
I planted guns in Texas for I was hung between free and coward. Guns suck magic. I buried guns for future history. If history rule let me be Mr. History. The guns are green. The flowers poke. I let History back because I was lonely. Do not follow. Go beyond my style. I am nothing but a rotten hero.
-Leonardo Owen

you dont understand, i will either win, or perish.

ooooooooh we met

when

we were almost

young!


Toofpaste.
Alarm Clock.
Cheeep ass lamp.
Desk.
Chair.
Futon.
gARP.
Sticks.
Marshmallows.
Pocket knife.
Matches.
Flowers, blue bells, blue median flowers steal at night.
?woodpecker?
illusions.
___________modest mouse.



Walking University Ave.
Framingham, out the door and
into the alley wind
steals sparks from her
cigarette, she has hair, black
hair she has hair, black
hair, demon trees exist! on
some nights is in the
trees the folks of a
relapsing breughel, the gums of
distaste—

very high. a breughel of an
elderly child who hump w/ bark
pricks, mens chests— sheathed
in platinum— bronze— attack
w/ pointing, pointing as
inanimate as the wind is
w/o debris they point to
the wind, around a building
where you
go to sleep, eaten by
coyotes there is
a silver pot set atop
a pedestal

by the entrance to where
we are going, it is for
our cigarettes. Once
she gasps clipping
as a knife

a spontaneous orgasm

yr lips on her belly
then boogers immediately
explode out her nose she

just

snoze, ring of
home, things arch as
a childs dream— man
enough for it, porous enough
for it, twiddle thumbs
keep the rules tight
and close, it will not end
in a fight

MEMORANDUM!!!
create nothing gold,
never.

those are the 17 year old bed in
love w/ what comes thru a phone
i can hear yr smile
20, actually, even... 19, the downhill
where should be i could have been
so many places and have not been, this
is the case.rub.predilection and predicament, all
float in the mediocre, it is no-wise to
say the day is consumed by it,
tuggingly, apparent as a fog. make
nothing golden, you are a collagist,
alchemist, child and munch: what to
speak of. there have been thruout
history such conversations, antiquated upon
conception, precursors to the past such that
hands must be folded, windows must
be stared thru, things things things
need their due attention, are rejuvenated by
a trip to the hobby shop these conversations
between great people and

Children.

NO DATES. NO DATES.
Everything a self-annihilating and self-
undenying manifesto, dying, like
the rain, which baudelaire witnessed
forgive me, being among the few, no
DATES. for sea weed is my
creed! hrmph, to wordsworthian dusk
blandish the diurnal dreams
of corso! who lives in the night, being
among the few— medicine men not
of confused, mangled origins: It Does Not
Work That Way, we are trying
to take a walk to the store w/ the
simplicity of our droughted minds, being in
texas, one would stoke a few, the
reams of my life, a horse
scuffling in the blackness of its
hair, under paltry moon, understood, just
what to call it if anything:

from the barked arms of daphne,

flew.

the girl has sneezed, coffee
shop window, Cafe Cafe— gone baby
gone— even the mannequins: redundant
maestros in the patchworked earth, akin
and rooted
Close and altogether One
w/ the ignorance, are
my Tourists. all the
worlds a stage, and here it is, this
raisin bellied witch maelstromed w/ chattering
gums lips flits, ugly undertow of bones,

on the stage, nothing is

threadbare, always the illustration of
the witch at her brew, It Is The
Crystal, gawd too, what whispers there
are no god damn whispers, subtleties
of craft, Mast
w/o a boat that is: impossible, you
created when you were not creating:
muse licks the ‘lonely only,’ shivelys
rendition a cue, the true, babble it
out
......................UCCELLO, come back
and make nothing
golden, i dont give a
fuck man, just for the sound of
yr voice, only f... ]]> ~amodestmouse http://amodestmouse.deviantart.com/journal/24317635/ http://amodestmouse.deviantart.com/journal/24317635/ Sun, 19 Apr 2009 00:20:55 PDT the sisters of mercy are not du duum duh du duuum as to yr scratchy voice. i knew youd sound like that, eventually. i fucking knew it. told you so. its still too damn literary, for the most part (Pictures of the pyramids! and i sure as hell didnt tell you anything about that. *and, well, um, but, if and all: that guys fucking TEETH, man.
"Where were you."
"Over tonys."
"What were you doing there."
"Listening to some ass cover a jimmy buffet." but i was actually in a pretty mild way all delighted by the fucking thing.
and you smiled:
"thats strange..."

if you were wondering about my nightmares... the cats crawling thru the window, i loved that, i loved more than anything being locked out, and i wish things like that couldve happened, its all i wanted, i wish you hadnt had to hide from it, and i cant believe i put the dampers so far down over my eyes, i was more than willing to admit that you were really that insane, that you were worried about offsetting our prospective landlord. uncertainty, it's nice! and so deathly deathly deathly, this is en route to the new yorker or something, know my journals full of wishing you the best of yr uncertainty, while its here, to enjoy it, i didnt know at the time why i was writing that stuff. and i still cant see why you had to do those things to me. i can see too fucking clearly why you felt so enamored by them as to start frenetically thanking yourself for them, soon i was gone. when you get down to it youre just an irrepressible pile of shit, and i cant see why i felt such a strong desire to get down to it. what i really mean to say is: youre never gonna find a smarter parrot than i, but parrots galore you will. and i'd rather you well than not.


sometimes i cant sleep, too, but the thing i do: i look for pictures of people on the internet. sometimes i find my fortune instead. this one for example saved my life: [link]

and this one was just nice as all hell:

[link]

]]> ~amodestmouse http://amodestmouse.deviantart.com/journal/24283185/ http://amodestmouse.deviantart.com/journal/24283185/ Thu, 16 Apr 2009 23:14:57 PDT
one day ball bounces onto lawn, he comes out i walk to get ball and he point to his ugly shoe says you come on this lawn you get da boot. we get john and jays dad by name of big john big john is my father is a short muscle squirrel eye wall painter and puncher a perpetual child he farts into a long steel pipe the other end of whichs imbedded in the embers of a camp fire hes a great monster to jump and and beat into meaningless illusory pulp, growling and carrying us around on back through the house. kent retreats into house from big johns tirade calls cops etc.
where heart at. i mean wheres it gotta leave.
unveil what curtain what lone limb to show
what track to derail
fireworks to "eh," and walk away along the harbor arm clenched and sweating alone this year...
come to disappear in half shell crows on bench by the charles or is it hat shell,
like hat shell better its hat shell.
how to weel, weep alone insincerely, how not to madlib a ___________ tear
into being (cadaver)

ill have to read something. rain shush no do it fo me.
but if do force the voice hard enough
then something
will
come.
may take months of lonely waiting
to ask a stranger
about their dreams, but something will come
through some drenched breath
when off guard
while lost and image quelched
will bring them adamantly like cnn on drive in to forefront.
strangers and things do this.
make
horrendous
gigantic
monstrous
the light flittings of thirsty wandering
and yet you walk lighter
and
smaller than ever through
screaming faces.
if do force voice hard enough
then something
will
come. mostly id rather sleep
falling with thought of
what are you parched of, fallen leaf!
and the leaf say nothing i answer
i am full. i am full.
ah. ah. ah.

]]> ~amodestmouse