Monthly Archives: January 2025

diaric, poetry

’25 lmao what a ghoul

Screenshot of @alisonmartino Vintage Los Angeles' twitter post "The tribute to David Lynch at Bob’s Big Boy continues to grow. Lynch went to Bob’s everyday for seven years for coffee and a milkshake. As far as memorials go, this impromptu shrine is very touching and uplifting" with image attached of Bob's Big Boy Statue with impromptu David Lynch shrine including cans of cola, flowers, snacks, homemade keepsakes, photos of Lynch, doughnuts, and more
Credit: @alisonmartino Vintage Los Angeles

and by “ghoul”, I am referring to the stockholders’ meeting from Monday, and all the relevant sycophants. 

When, just yesterday
we were talking the King’s Disease.

When today it’s hot water
bathed and boiled in it
hot water, lemon, cayenne pepper. 
Thanks, Honey.

When under the blankets,
Choose the one who gives you 
giggles.

<<The way you treat others is a reflection.>>
What do you see?

When our touching noses
sparked.

When the sick and cold is too much
I can't touch grass
like I'd like, like you tell me I must. So

If it must be suffocation,
May it be
Trapped in an elevator—
Me, the Glory of spring
You, my Impossible crush
cornering me, daring me
My kiss a revolution daring you
Crack the window
—Sliding doors. 

When I am Focus. I refuse to give
my fear today.
I got too many gals and babes
to rile up 
and protect.

sonic bullion:

sonic bullion radio coming to you live from WKDC, juicy poetry and tales live from the crossroads. Stay wavy…

jukebox:

a time capsule

out of the past [diary archive]

what these nets drug in, 2019 and counting:

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diaric, poetry

’24-’25 Concord promise

Wisdom Gazing at a Serpent [reverse], c. 1500 | National Gallery of Art, Samuel H. Kress Collection
'24 concordat

Studying.
All these hollowed out
crowns, so lofty it’s dangerous
You are vulnerable,
charlatan elite.

When it’s cookie baking day
And for some reason i always 
Have to watch Steel Magnolias
Because of the women who taught me
Recipes to repeat, patterns to shake
Who are that strong
Who are dead

When it’s a daytime fire
When it’s a nap break
In between the molasses and sugars

When nothing says Christmas
like 19th century Massachusetts and March

When you best
Watch out for all these bugs



'25 Concord promise

Exalted, Venus came to town.
Under the covers in my dreams,
waking me up, an inside love;

No, not you, dear, 
no vacancy for the past.
If you must, 
you can watch.
Can you stand it?

I used to be 
so grateful to give you
my kiss. 
To make you laugh.
Anyways.

Nowadays, the dinner table:
‘It’s not the mindless consumption,’
I sit and consider the grocery list.

I’m building something. 
Across from her,
plates and cups a spectrum, honey, hearty,
fresh water. 

They say to leave the tree up
till January. Prosperity.

When those ginger snaps
carried me through—
stomach bugs galore.

A band on my finger,
—horns, strings, woods, drums
iron copper bronze
linens and lace—
The dance of time marches

When elsewhere, it’s a piss era
Shillery par excellence.

And then I realized, I’m on the roof. 
Wow, that’s bonkers, or
Sorry that happened.
Anyways,

Nowadays, I take my napping seriously.
Bury me in the earth,
my strong suit snakeskin
I transform like the year 
back from the dead
a snake in the bed
again and again.

I open
unto my yearning—
I am in love
again for the first time.

sonic bullion:

coming to you live from sonic bullion radio, WKDC, juicy poetry and tales live from the crossroads. Sit a spell, enjoy a while…

jukebox

out of the past [diary archive]

what these nets drug in, 2018 and counting:

Standard