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Tillalala Chronicles: The Study of Oak

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Friday, July 10, 2015. The Study of Oak. Study oak, I tell myself. Press your nose against it. Smell it. Touch it. Feel it. There is a god inside. Beatitude is the steel of well-being. Which is itself fragile as an antique cut crystal English condiment set. Don’t wiggle this sentence. Everything depends on it. Including the sounds of Rome. The opacity of light in a dusty old caboose. Words twinkling and swarming around an hallucination of gravity salt. If I plate breaks in Africa, I can hear it in China.

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Tillalala Chronicles: January 2015

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Thursday, January 15, 2015. The Tongue is a Strange Machine. Enigmatic Corot that a chicken thickens if a cut thrills. I strain a spoon to hit the moon. The singing sidewalk is my blossoming and bile. I smell incense below the float and start the car. I will push this idea until it crackles below the bean bang. Mark this, my friend, the bowl will quicken as it fills with ice. Scribbles toss themselves into circulation. I feel the pulse of an indentation brush a babble with an admonition. Plum...We fill o...

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Tillalala Chronicles: A Sweet Preparation

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Monday, August 3, 2015. Experience tastes like chicken. Even chicken tastes like chicken. But this isn’t about chicken. This is about experience. Right now I’m experiencing ramification. Paper, architecture, space. You name it, I will experience it. All it takes is a little physiology. Bones, blood, skin. Nerves. Medulla oblongata. Sulcus of corpus callosum. Legs, arms, fingers. Let’s talk about fingers. Bohemia, rumination, Ted Berrigan’s sonnets. Ive been reading about recursion; this is an experience ...

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Tillalala Chronicles: Halibut Today with a Chance of Bubbles

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Sunday, July 5, 2015. Halibut Today with a Chance of Bubbles. All I need now is a little dynamite. All the letters do is excite my personality. But what can you do? If morning drops my heart I know the night will pick it up and carry it somewhere good. These words together here inspiring and beautiful and other words. Came upon this blog via search for Bruce Conner: to Steven Fama: to You. And French ocher impact kings to ya. July 6, 2015 at 4:55 PM. Wonderful to hear how you arrived here.

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Tillalala Chronicles: August 2015

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Thursday, August 27, 2015. Nature has given us the use of language. But why? Thursday, August 20, 2015. Our Books of Poetry. Wednesday, August 12, 2015. A Shadow Climbing a Cornstalk. Monday, August 3, 2015. Let’s talk about fingers. Fingers fascinate me. I have two handfuls of them. And two thumbs. Thumbs are the senators of the hand. That is to say, thumbs are pivotal to the enactment of fingers, which is to grip, to hold, to curl around knobs and open doors. That sort of thing. Few adjectives are requ...

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Tillalala Chronicles: October 2014

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Tuesday, October 28, 2014. There is something you should know about painting: it’s a declaration of knobs. Yaks. Conviction. The sag of a cemetery willow. The uncanny dialects of a woman’s arm. The insinuation of streets when they’re wet and the cars go by with people in them dreaming, talking, yelling, crying, laughing. How do you paint that? Or a screw. I admire the machinery of the screw. Such a simple thing. I can feel the truth of its existence in the torque of its threads. I feel seized by a stunni...

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Tillalala Chronicles: February 2015

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Thursday, February 26, 2015. Liftoff at the Court of Versailles. King Louis XVI and his wife Marie Antoinette pinched their noses to block the stench of smoke, a mephitic blend of burning wool, fetid hay, and old shoes. It was assumed that the smellier the smoke, the more buoyant the craft. It was a warm September day. Hundreds of people gathered about the great lawn of Versailles. Heads tilted back. Voices murmured. It was to be expected that the duck, rooster and sheep would be transformed for better o...

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Tillalala Chronicles: June 2015

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Monday, June 22, 2015. I don’t know, but there’s a shameful amount of homelessness in the United States. Taxi headlights penetrate the night. Did I mention meeting Buffalo Bill one night in a dream? I mean, how can it not be? Who doesn’t like to stand in the shower murdering syntax? It takes time for the blood to circulate. Once the sexual morning gets going the rest comes easy. You just hop on a Corot and let Lake Como do the rest. Sunday, June 14, 2015. And Here I Am Crawling into the Sky. Was mild on ...

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Tillalala Chronicles: Pluto

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Wednesday, July 15, 2015. I can’t get Pluto out of my mind. Tiny speck of light that it is, it sticks. I keep thinking about it. What’s there? Pluto, strangely, has a solid mass. My imagination can cling to it. Climb on it. Jump on it. Walk on it. The latest image (July 9. Saturday’s image (7/11/2015) shows Pluto from a distance of 2.5 million miles looking a little like an orange that’s been sitting in the refrigerator a bit too long. It has black splotches on the bottom and a surfac...Today’s ima...