


My right eye above
left below Not blind enough
yet to stop screaming
I glue these back to back, one object with two rotating sides (so eight awoogahexes), this is the other side of the previous awoogahex
Excrutiating,
waiting for saturated
cold press block to dry
Exasperating
warping then saturated
happy accidents
I claim my idea
Bliss. I’ve three canvases sop
pingwet, teaching my
self blue so I can
teach myself green, awooga
my cataclysmic
pacifier, boop, thumb
in my canary elbow
of weathervane an
kle of cassandra
merkin of fool. Digit
al type while gouache dries
The other side of the below
It doesn’t occur
to me to write poetry
when I can paint. I
bliss watching paint dry:
shit will never be better
than wettest. I
see me finger-painting
ten-thirty to eleven
every other week
Saturdays struggling
to remember my name. I’m
not writing but should
Above, what my right eye sees, below, my left
Bottom left quadrant, counterclockwise from goatjeff, camel, pennsylvania, owl for Liz, no one who’d know what that means looks here