You are viewing jacobfreeze

30 October 2014 @ 03:57 am
Blur  
Were you ever a blur?

Were you ever a word that turned into thistles?
Were you ever a word that turned into fur?

Were you ever a blur?


 
 
 
25 October 2014 @ 05:15 am
Why does every message I get from
Mexico look like a
sex-text from a swat team?

Get naked!
Walk out the front door!

It's always bad advice!


 
 
 
19 October 2014 @ 06:14 am
We were laying out a picnic on a
big flat rock beside the Yuba River
below the Bridgeport Bridge when a couple of
kids came running down the bank and
as soon as they saw us
I guess they knew
we would have had to have
seen their father still
thrashing and splashing and
trying to swim.

He was swept away from a beautiful
pool about a mile upriver,
where the river grinds stone into
sand and the sand can

suddenly slip away

and eventually the
EMT's from Yuba City picked up the kids
in their all-purpose
hearse and ambulance
and there are worse
ways to die than drowning in the
Yuba River below the Bridgeport Bridge,
where the river runs fast and cold and clear.


 
 
 
14 October 2014 @ 02:49 pm
Is this the ebola bebola bebop?
She-bop!

She-wow!

Is this the ebola bebola bebop?
She-bop!

She-wow!

Do you sing as you swing through the jungle?
Did you ever escape from a zoo?
Do they wash you in ozone or ouzo?

Is that your mouth on my menu?

You got the ebola bebola bebop!
She bop!

She-wow!

You got the ebola bebola bebop!
She-bop!

She-wow!



 
 
 
10 October 2014 @ 03:55 pm
You may be hogtied or you may be
tiptoeing out the back door
in your nightie.

You may be
grinning into infinity
when you feel the hot pink tingle.

Is it real?
Can you feel it?
Are you my brick?
Am I your pecan?

I got a pancake in my brain-pan!

 
 
 
07 October 2014 @ 11:00 am
What I need is a
meteor and four
old men playing euchre on my coffin!

What I need is a teacher to teach me to
speak in trochees and I need to be
buried in the same grave as Greta Garbo!

What I got is a row of
true-love weepers and a beautiful hole
in the cold dark ground!

 
 
 
04 October 2014 @ 07:25 am
Aboriginal man, aboriginal TV repairman,
I worked most of my life in Melbourne and Sydney,
telecine to kinescope, film into TV in the Menzies Hotel,
ghost to ghost from the American studios,
but I don't die into ghost TV,
I don't die into America neither,
I die into fire and stars and whispers.

 
 
 
03 October 2014 @ 03:02 pm
I coulda been a made man!
I coulda teached to teach!

I coulda traded my socks for
cosmic moxie!

I coulda ate a bomb!
I coulda teached to teach!

 
 
 
30 September 2014 @ 12:07 pm
Flounce around in your
doleful opulence if you want to!
We still live in a bubble!

We live in a mumble-a-bumble!
We live in a bai-bai-bai-bai!
We live in a wobble-a-bobble!

We live in a bubble in Mumbai.

 
 
 
29 September 2014 @ 01:55 am
You toyed with a
boy who was
obviously annoyed with
himself.

I scattered my change
all over the
check-out lane!

I scattered my change
all over the
check-out lane!

Is this

your place or my place?
Is this

your place or my place?

I can't even
see my face

myself.