Dogzplot. Keyhole. Words Out and Flying.

I got words on Dogzplot and they are good like shreds of thunk.

I got words on Keyhole and they are good like Brad and Brian and triviality. I always wondered why Charlie Brown never considered suicide. Maybe his cool dog?

You should read my words, or maybe go volunteer a fireman. Or maybe move your black queen’s pawn, under attack now.

**

Amelia Gray has a way jalapeno text over at Diagram (that old rag). It almost makes a nacho reference so I treat it like an old creek behind my house I fill with tires and serving platters then wait for crawdads to crawl and settle beneath then return and scoop up the crawdads with my hands (clutch them right behind pincers) and throw into a pot and boil their screams into my finger sandwiches.

excerpt:

Jeannie serves me meatloaf at the café.
Jeannie serves me spaghetti and meatballs at the café.
Jeannie serves me pork barbecue and french fries at the café.
Jeannie serves me breakfast tacos at the café.
Jeannie serves me fajitas at the café.
Jeannie serves me onion soup at the café.
Jeannie serves me quesadillas at the café.
Jeannie serves me chicken fried steak at the café.
Jeannie serves me grilled cheese sandwiches at the café.
Jeannie serves me steak and eggs at the café.
Jeannie serves me baked potato at the café.
Jeannie serves me tomato soup at the café.
Jeannie serves me pork chops at the café.
Jeannie serves me cheese crisp at the café.
Jeannie serves me ham and cheese at the café.
Jeannie serves me fish sandwiches at the café.
Jeannie serves me chicken salad at the café.
Jeannie serves me corn dogs at the café.
Jeannie serves me tamale pie at the café.
Jeannie serves me vegetable soup at the café.
Jeannie serves me macaroni at the café.
Jeannie serves me chili at the café.

Etc.

**

Today I feel like this.

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3 responses to “Dogzplot. Keyhole. Words Out and Flying.

  1. I loved the Charlie Brown’s Diary at Keyhole.

  2. I wake, and hear the birds coughing. Under the night blanket. I do the math, in the bowl of my head, and I am not going to lie. Two wins, 930 losses. My responsibility. My team. Starting pitcher, manager—that’s me. Two wins. The two games I missed, in January, that long weekend on the ninth floor.

    fucking hilarious

  3. Nice blog you have here.

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