Monday, March 30, 2009

Lestat the fat

i'm a vampire story
a really shitty vampire story
no blood
no lust
just smoke
no mirrors
some fat, greasy fucking cigarette smoking bum of a vampire
too lazy to kill his own dinner
fuck hunting
blood bank
tv, blood bank, eternity
i can't even kill myself
and that cunt Van Helsing just freaks me out
all ashwood steak and crossbow and shit
fuck
i'm going to get some some takeaway
fuck it

patrick?

there is calamity in the air
in my guts i can feel it
a small death
is coming
and just like big death
nothing can be said
no new knowledge can be extracted from these events
no catharthsis can be entered into
this acknowlegdement
has meant
nothing
more and more
it seems
that we play a zero sum game

stable and fake

no to falling down
yes to final judgement
no to bad host
no to slow boat
yes to criminal activity
yes to utopia
yes to balls up
yes to the lie
yes to the next best
yes to function
yes to 3rd rate
yes to fucking every hour on the hour
yes to good health
yes to once more

Sunday, March 29, 2009

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

I still need to shed five kilo

i'm not down with
it was in the roof
it was in the gutter
this cocaine dealer, he's not all RA-RA
they're going to get me
i was glad i didn't i go to jail
i could never sit down
it wasn't a dream
for now this will do
for my brother is my rifle

Wertage

Something is very wrong here,
very fucking wrong.
Now, we enter a fissure.
Relax, the vacume will preserve everything.

Vice President

Tuesday, March 24, 2009

Home

Police

Take a pill,
wash it down with coffee.
Put on glasses so you see less.

Less is not more.

Don't think about it,
just do it.

That's what booze is good for,
not thinking about it.
not thinking about it.
not thinking about it.

Monday, March 23, 2009

Xindi

I HAD NO CHOICE
I HAD NO CHOICE
I HAD NO CHOICE

NOW I CAN DO ANYTHING



Monday, March 16, 2009

New Work at QCA Gallery Brisbane

New Work at QCA Gallery Brisbane

New Work at QCA Gallery Brisbane




Sydney 13/3/09

Sydney 14/3/09

Sydney 14/3/09

Sydney 13/3/09

Johnnie, Saskia and Miles

Burger Urge

i don't have a problem with Martin Kippenberger because he is dead
i don't have a problem with America because they have the bomb
i don't have a problem with ugly people because they make me more attractive
i don't have a problem with youth and beauty because they give me something to believe in
i don't have a problem with people eating people because it's the way of the future
i don't have a problem with pissing in the sink because i never get caught

no problem today

Sunday, March 15, 2009

Ultivite

Every meal.
Every time I open my eyes at the beginning of every day.
I wish he wasn't dead.
But that won't change.
Gorging myself on life won't dull it.
Doesn't dull it.
I'll be dead too one day and
that is fucking that.
No action can bring solace.
No solace is worth seeking.
Because,
all are equally weighted.
That is to say that they all are weightless.
Happiness and grief.
Give me white and white and white.
Give me no shoes and shit between my toes.
So,
No to generosity of spirit.
No to moving your feet to the music.
Yes to denial.
Yes to black-out.
No to moving forward.
No to bribing myself.
No to incentive based action.

Yes to more.
Yes to more.

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

Review

My room is a disaster.
It's not really a bother though.
Every time I dress I just pick something off the floor.
They all smell good.
Like incense and mozzie coils.
All my underwear is filthy.
All my socks are hard.
But the discomfort passes pretty quickly.
I sweat a lot.

I have a lot of books in my room.
They keep falling off the shelf.
I've read most of them but
I'll be fucked if I can find it within myself to choose one tonight.

So as it stands,
DEPECHE MODE,
the cricket score on cric-info,
this little piece of writing and
an Adorno reader sitting by my bed.
I guess it'll have to do.

Coffee first thing.
Work (7h 15mins).
Paint.

5/299@7:48pm

tonight
i'll wear a dress.
and then
i'll put my dick into a skull.
and then
i'll drink wine from
the still bleeding bladder of a goat.
and then i'll cut out
the word glamour from every book.
and at the end of the evening
i'll realise that
my shit is perfect,
that too much cold set down,
backstage now down town,
armature,
collision,
dysfunction.

Monday, March 9, 2009

Rain and my beautiful wine

There is beautiful intermittent rain tonight.
I love it.
I would would love it better if it just kept raining.
However, like so many things that I wish would continue,
it doesn't.

Sunday, March 8, 2009

Theta DNA healing

I want to sit atop a cooling body.
My guts full of memory.
Thoughts, spittle and sinew pooling.
With the satisfaction that peace
can come
from violence.

Thursday, March 5, 2009

OK14

WEALTH IS POWER
POVERTY IS EVIL
SILENCE IS GOLDEN

OK13

FEAR IS THE GIFT OF
THE RICH TO THE POOR

OK12

SURVIVAL IS THE BIRTHRIGHT OF THE RICH

OK11

THE POOR ARE THE EVILS OF THE RICH MANIFEST

OK10

POLISH THE SKULLS OF THE RICH WITH
THE RAGS OF THE POOR

OK9

BREAKFAST IS THE BEST MEAL
CUTE GIRLS TASTE BEST

OK8

SUCCESS IS THE FAILURE OF OTHERS

OK7

LOVE IS FEAR
SEX IS LOSS

OK5

THE LOVE OF OTHERS
IS THE FEAR OF BEING ALONE

OK4

THE FLESH OF THE RICH
IS LIKE FRESH BUTTER

OK3

THE RICH DESERVE PAIN
NOT DEATH
EDUCATE THE RICH WITH PAIN

OK2

PRIVATE PARTS
CREATED PORNOGRAPHY

OK

THEFT IS GOOD
WHEN THE RICH SUFFER

Weet-Bix

THE BLOOD OF THE RICH
WILL OIL THE WORKING CLASS MACHINE

I am almost out of incense

MY SHIT IS PERFECT

well, according to the amazing pirate man.

He tells me Brisbane is not Berlin.
He tells me that the only way out, is through.
He tells me that there will always be ghosts.
He tells me,

new knee

foul stuffing

heavy arms

black eyes

even tone

death chicken

and cylons screaming

A glass of porno

I AM FAT AND OLD.
I AM GREY AND DRUNK.
MY NOSE IS BLOATED AND MY DICK SITS IN A CUP OF STALE BEER.
THE SUGAR FROM THE BEER ATTRACTS INSECTS AND CRYSTALISES IN MY BELLY HAIR.
IF I COULD GET IT UP I'D DRINK MY COGNAC.
TONIGHT I START SMOKING FAGS.
I DON'T OWN A GUN.
I DON'T HAVE ANYTHING AGAINST PEOPLES OF OTHER ORIENTATIONS.
SO THE THINGS WE KNOW ARE AS FOLLOWS.
NO FUCKING FLOWERS.
NO FUCKING POETRY.
NO FUCKING GOING HOME.
NO FUCKING ANYTHING.


normal tolerances

INITIAL SAMPLE PERFECT ORDER.
TIGHTEN, SQUEEZE.

It could have been much worse.
He mentioned something about a monkey.
More bone than flesh.

friends

the corporation named HITACHI

counter

first permanent loss

personal significant erasure

The Information

ragged gums hang from a loose mouth.
it hurts to chew and it is hard to tell what is my mouth and her flesh.
but i continue and the information starts to flow.
i can taste what she felt, i can smell what she knew.
but shattered bone becomes confused with broken teeth,
and the information is lost.

You swear well Picard

She can't stand me.
I'm soiled she says.
But she too is a fibber.
A dirty fucking, (and at that too she excels)
lying beauty.
Based in self loathing, youth, arrogance.
It will fade.
It is fading.
Parallels between off fruit and this person were present in the first draft but I took them out.
Her value and my desire to crystalise her in words are in decline.
Yes to more.

Metala Shiraz Cabernet

You can't turn away from yourself.
It is impossible.

Wednesday, March 4, 2009

Pfingst

Stoned, drunk and full of food.
Regrardless of my current state the following statement is completely true.
I'm not a religous person but tonight I give thanks for the people in my life.
I don't deserve my good fortune.
I won't waste it.