27 Boxes in 15 Minutes

Wistful whisky walking briskly
Tumbling warmth, a welling of my youth
Dwell in my chest, tell me truth:

You are sparse, placid, I'm drunk
At home in my chair.  I can feel your dress,
See it from here, rip it with my teeth
I'll draw Orion on your knee
You'll tell me to guess about that scar.
If only I had a memento
So tactile and bright with life
But I only grasped your hand
Clasped, more like, a fingerprint powwow
No long council, such as our hairs might have
Brown and brown, wiry and flaxen
And while you slept, I'd weave a great knot
Knitting me to you, yours to mine
So tangled it would be, so utterly dense
An elemental nonfiction
With filamental connections
To keep me next to you, sugar

The Alphabet, Part III

Things are getting hairy.  No, not down there, I hit puberty months ago.  I mean the Sasquatch I am tracking.  There are no Sasquatch on the Internet, and that is scary to me.  When absurd loses its meaning we are all Shelley's rowboat: no current current.

I.

I'll intuit a while - itching for inklings -

Sitting high on a pile of Inuit tile

Smile. I think things, I think.

J.

Joyous Hajj just south of Jersey

To abject jub-drowned jurisdiction

Jingoes judged by jilted juries

K.

Jack a whole stack of darkened 8-tracks,

For a lark in the park putting smack into sacks

Crystalline cracks lack the tact of your act

Because even when you are too good for structure, environment and assholes' opinions, you still need all of those things to express the original thought.

- Bullfrog Kauffman

The Alphabet, Part II

After E, the alphabet gets decidedly less friendly.  Consonants come out of the fucking woodwork and you'd better hope you have more than a quarter tank left when you are cruising toward its buxom midsection.

F.

Rough Kerfuffle over a tufted truffle

Enough in the duffle for a fortnight's tussle;

Suss out the fluff before the five-card shuffle!

G.

"Grand Canyon," grinned the gray Cayman.

"A great gallumphing gorge, edged by stodgy green grass,

With ledges as high as the glassy night sky."

H.

Breathy whorls huffed by homestead ranch hands

While threading husks through stretchy, itch-proof conch strands

A shy, overshorn mensch to watch the ashy badlands.

Hellbent on flooding your basement marketplace with everything short of tyranny.

-- Severino the Younger

Free! Free as the wind blows.

Maybe the wind isn't really that free.  Like, he's still a landed gent and all, just without the extreme level of wherewithal (financial or otherwise) that the song indicates.  Like maybe he balls out with frequency, but his ex says the baby is his (!) and is there anything less free than having to surrender DNA to some quack?  So he forks over a few hundred each month to keep that fair-haired hussy off his case.

Plus, he works in finance, so his sooted soul is currently chained to the bottom of the devil's grundle for t-minus eternity.

So yeah, not that free.

- Scott Philippa

The Alphabet, Part I

The alphabet begins at A and continues, jostling along until it wraps up right around Z.

A.  

An Ayatollah named Amanda Ammaker 

Amasses armfuls of almonds almost arbitrarily

B.

Bespoken for, broken, brittle, emboldened

Holding a whole fold of old mold and bourbon

In turbans, in the urban hub of Durban

C.

Coco clodhop, clean a crusty cop's clock

A crackling crock of thoracic slop

Chippy crap shot chop shop

D.

Dark and dandered dewdrops

Drip drowsily toward your end

Dopplegangers thud out drenched sound

E.

All around and everywhere

Effervescent elderwine

Venerate the velvet line:

Helvetica, by svelt design

A hop, dip and a set.

- Marmalade Ruiz

One in my hand is better than a pear in your bush

We sincerely hope that the frock-tossing, bewhiskered reader enjoys the title.  Also, we think we're going to stick with this totally radical new font, skraight drippin serif all over da place.


It's time for some couplets.  They are long couplets, which you might enjoy even more than short ones.

He had a stare like a blast furnace and

Wrapped himself in a bearskin of silence

He had twin pythons for forearms and

Wore a jacket because it made his mother happy

His footfalls like the final turn at Pimlico

We watched that bundle-of-crows hair try to keep up

His heaving chest was a bison among goats

But he preened like a kitten

He had a handshake like a warm bed and

Laughed because laughing felt funny

His face was graven as though by ancient tides but

His leather boots shone fresh as a calf at the udder

He had a back like the base of a redwood and

Broke rocks when he kicked em

She had haunches like a fleeing doe

And a stare like candied steel

His knees creaked like an old house in a storm

But his trunk was a mule and an ox

And because any structure is originally established with a view to its eventual downfall:

He was coiffed like a Hapsburg prince but

Couldn't lash two clauses together if you gave him

80 feet of spider silk and a long weekend

You've all been so lovely.  A river there chief (say it fast).

- Alvaro Jefferson

Diatribe's Hard and Fast Rules for Gentle & Manly Living

Welcome back.  We have been on a many-moon hiatus, but are back now to howl at celestial bodies and your brain stem.  Thanks for reading.

This post is the first in a series attempting to amass a corpus of guiding principles that the tiger-eyed, silk-girded reader might find useful in the pursuit of Gentle & Manly Living.  Off we go.

• Do not do 'the wave.'  Just don't.  Don't encourage it or acknowledge it.

• A man should have nose hairs. [thanks, J. Donaghy]

• What's the largest animal you've ever hunted?  If it would fit in your dishwasher, go find one that won't.

• Spend more than $5 on a umbrella. 

• Here's how you know when a word is ideal for cussin': It can function as 3+ parts of speech.

• Never start a sentence with "like" or "I mean."  But the stringent high school rule of never opening statements with conjunctions is heretofore rendered void. [blow me, Mrs. McCarthy]

• When conversing in English with an ESL individual, speak back in their accent.  It will make them feel right at home in this strange barrio.

• Light beer should be reserved for days when > 1 gallon of liquid is being imbibed.

• If you venture down the path of experimental facial hair (a quintessential introspective exercise), keep your noggin' hair long.  Else-wise you will be mistaken for a a neo-Nazi, a trifling floozy, or worse, a hipster.

• Learn how to drive.  Need I say more?

• No need to wash your hands after you pee: unless you are 4 (or were cursed with an unsightly anteater) you shouldn't be peeing on your hands.  Instead wash before, so you can be sure you touch your manhood with clean, reverent hands.

• Computers are our slaves.  Treat them as such.

• If offered a drink, accept.  Arnold Palmers are preferred libation for a sunny day when school's out.

• Only write in cursive if it's at a 45 degree slant.

• Snoop Dogg has the best voice, no qualification needed.  It makes you fearful, horny and giggly at the same time.

• Be nice to old ladies, even if you're a dick to everyone else.

• Hydrate.  "But we already covered this!"  Shut up, it's important.

• Don't go to Starbucks unless you have a gift card. 

• If unfurnished with a visible name tag, most waitresses prefer to be addressed as "toots."  [well said, C. Craddock]

• Red pants indicate danger.

• Boogie Nights ... just, Boogie Nights.

Until next time.  It has been altogether real.

- Franklin Boon