you may need a murderer someone to do your dirty work don't act so innocent i've seen you pound your fist into the earth

slow thick
dark red rich
blood drops
n chunks of fat
mixed with hair
on damp shades
of brown leaves
marking a trail
between point of impact
and finality
scattered with
bed down pools
of rested
death on
soft dead grasses
pause to lick the wound
pause to listen
pause to smell
pause to fade
until startled
or passed
in a final field dressed spot
prepped to drag
by the head
fastest way out
catching on brush, sticks
limp lifeless meat noodling
over logs
parting ground cover
for a new trail of whatever
falls out
a new trail that'll
last at least 2 weeks
and make whoever finds it jealous.

they filled our hearts and hands with violence, with violence, with violence

has the full feeling
of laying on yr
back
watchin the
'stars' fall outta
the sky
in anger and rage
and the pure joy of
burning burning burning

walkin into the vertical
blackened board shed
tin roof makes taps in the rain
n its always rainin this time of year
cept tonite

its dark black dark
the gas tanks been out
so long the mantles
been eaten by moths or somethin

kickin dust through the creaky floor boards
leavin scuffed work boot marks to the
chair in the corner
a seat by the window
to listen for the ghosts
and watch them
'stars' out the broken by stone
window
fall n burn
burn burn

now is the time for the showdown so let me give you the lowdown we've come to the end of our road

'im over this'
is playing over and over
even though
marvin gaye hits the ears
through the dark
travels in the fall
cold mist n puddles
mercy mercy me

hoping drops of rain freeze
tonite
and puddles ice from the edges
in creaky white air spaced
forms of dont mean anything cold
hard nature

the gaps, the spaces
just fill just fill

my beard
and your hair
like velcro
stuck together

bloodstains, speed kills, fast cars, cheap thrills, french girls, fine wine.

i've been listening to agent orange since 2pm-ish sunday. loud.

getting ready to open for saul williams at the cmj/afro punk thing tomorrow @ blender theater in nyc. also upcoming show @ metronome with the heavy on 11/4 and albany, NY @ valentines on 12/5.

thats enough for now.

been reading a lot. i went crazy on amazon last nite and ebay today. its going to be like christmas at my house in a week or so. you should come by and i will read wander lust inspired things to you with great energy. you can take notes in a vintage brass notebook or WWI field journal. i'll feed you peanut butter and banana sandwiches out of a cooler. it will be great.

see you around, soldier.

fight for equality.

the clouds are gray and cold
tangled up like fingers
elbows, wrists and knees.
moving. fast.

'round midnight

home early listening to modern jazz quartets last concert on vinyl in the dark over the ring of my ears. when i think of jazz this is the first record i think about. i love the integrity in this recording and performance. I stumbled across this record on accident one nite. It was in a pile of records my dads friend brought back from someplace over sease when he was in the military. Also a huge stack of weird dylan records. I rarely listen to those though.

so I was driving home home from the show thinking about all of the things this record isn't. I made a list in my head which I wont share. It isn't everything I don't want. It is pure and pleasure, energy on smooth lines and perfection in peace and movement. I like to close my eyes and pretend im sitting at the avery fisher hall with a bunch of dudes in front of me who love to play and play what they love. the faint chatter that bleeds through could be my neighbor. it could be you.

if you want to join me send me a txt or come on over. side one is only half done... and I have the bonus record too...

snow on mansfield

non stumbled sure footed laced boots
n frozen leaves stuck together for the
first time barely fallen
n the peace of dark
the silence of stop
n the weight of sleep
crowding in on a cold body
the sky is grey
it hugs n gives
wet cold
sloppy
nature kisses
that'll send shivers
up yr spine and kill you dead.

(unless someone sends you a txt and tells you to put clothes on)

there are some youtube videos out there. i think almost our entire chicago show is online. if you search rough francis in youtube it should come up.

enjoy your fall. it missed you all summer.

Rough Francis / Death Tour Pics

isaac came along with us and took some pics. he posted them on his blog here. the trip was fun and exhausting. we met a lot of cool people and had a blast.

please come to jdk friday nite so we can meet you and have a blast with you.

rock it soldier.

not-blogging.

i've been not-blogging for a while now. interesting... i think i might plan for a new book this fall... at least start one. ive got lots of ideas rumbling around. im bringing a notebook on tour to write some of them down but im afraid i might be distracted by the new cities and rock n roll music.

speaking of which... if any of you live in any of the cities we are playing in (see previous post) and are going to the shows send me an email. i'll make sure you get one of the limited edition posters. or at least do my best.

rock it soldiers.

see you soon.

(oh, ps. rough francis is playing its last local show for a while 9pm friday october 2nd in the jdk basement. there is a skate ramp. swale is playing as well. please come say hi and dont break anything. if you do i may try to touch your exposed bone.)

Free poster at Detroit, Chicago and Cleveland shows!

There will be a free limited edition signed by artist copy of this screen print given away at each show... there wont be enough for everyone but we'll give them out while they last.

Rough Francis @ Speaking Volumes for Art Hop + MP3.

Here's a little nugget of what I've been working on for you. Well. What we've been working on. Although I recorded and mixed it so I did double duty.

Rough Francis - Waiting Demo

We've been super busy working on a bunch of new songs / recording / getting ready for shows / etc etc etc.

Please come see us at Speaking Volumes Friday nite around 10pm or so.

I hope you enjoy the fresh tasty jams.

I'm gonna get me some sandwiches.

how quiet it is
over here
shhhhh
dont let the neighbors hear
the roommate
the people walking by outside
keep in close
keep it under the covers
shhhhh
how quiet it is
over here
under the full moon
and near cloudless
sky.
shhhhh
come over
and make some quiet noise

Rough Francis @ Higher Ground 8-5-09

This is something that happened.

dear, in the morning let me put on your make-up for you. i’ll be loading your gems with mascara then i’ll tell you the truth…

earlier when i was reading i was filled with ideas,
now that i've sat down... not so much.
i almost did a lot of things today but only read.

unique experiences or
thousands dreams of success
put down.

chipmunks
fattening their cheeks
then running home.

i put my head down,
wait for it to get tired,
listen to something slow,
hope for a breeze in my face,
think about open places,
eye wide
dream about starting fires in emergency...

poetry.
etc.

its about
who you listen to music with
in the dark.

completely.

when i shuffled on back home i made sure all my tracks in the snow were gone

the ocean is completely blurred
you are nice and sharp

when i said you were remarkable i said real marketable.

i bought born in the year of the butterfly knife by derrick c. brown

read a bunch of it while killing time in a basement waiting for a show to stop / continue.
its pretty much the best thing ive read in a while.

dusty dirt roads throwing dusty dirt in the air
dark brown legs crossed
boring boring lives
working for health insurance
leaning and shapes.

i dont have enough style
n you dont have enough life under your belt.

i need someplace to go soon. can i come visit you?
i'll cook you dinner and do the dishes.

one fast move or i'm gone

i think
these words
that are meant for letters
are meant forrr loooong lettteerrrrrs
that im not going to write or send.

who the fuck knows.

but the back-to-walking-headphone-west-coast-callin
still works n sweats for miles n
the music still plays at demand
feet in effed streets
moving faster through harmonic resonant
beat beat shit

shit shit

empty this shit out
and start it new
havin fun
makin fun
havin fun

just fucking do it.
jesus christ.

things i did when i was dead and everyone loves you

im going to suggest you listen to / download the paper castles ep.

tonite when it rained...
...the second time
i sat on the floor
stuck my head under the curtain
n let the screen shattered drops
cool me down

the summer is shaking
harmonic tremors
nerves and disaster
thick thick flows

every nite
the same
thinking about what to write
n remembering
everythings-tucked away for later

Rough Francis This Friday 8/21 @ Nectars

9pm with the Vacant Lots, Blowtorch and the Cave Bees

Also:

Aug 29 2009 8:00P
242 Main St. | With: Death Is Easy, Vultures of Cult and In Memory of Pluto Burlington, Vermont
Sep 25 2009 9:00P
The Magic Stick | With: Death - Detroit, Michigan
Sep 26 2009 8:00P
The Empty Bottle | With: Death - Chicago, Illinois
Sep 27 2009 8:00P
Beachland Ballroom | With: Death - Cleaveland, Ohio

Come say hi. We'll shake your hand and great you with warm smiles.

when the night comes and you lay by the one you love the one who knows you and the things you do

how dirty is the fucking sea?

who knows?

who is going to know?

mystery, i guess.

given the opportunity, i'd try to solve it.

lots of shit going on
i haven't been updating my blog because of a conscious effort not to assign more meaning to /
think about things in ways other than how they are.
how is this working out for you?

shooting stars still break her heart and sunsets make her cry

would say
hes like a neil halstead song
or maybe someone else
where acoustic plays simple compressed notes
with space filling hall
power
and silent eye sleep inducing shit.

pressing for a power of indecency
a privilege of seperation
a strength in admission or neglect.

just find the energy
from space
to move shit
from place to place
n laugh
laugh
laugh
in secret
while keeping straight
out there
wherever.

sits to home
and kneads the sheets
to heaping masses
falling to the floor
n countless
glasses nite to nite
for the windows
shit light n air
n ac hum
counts like
long numbers not in our language
to the end of nite.

laugh
laugh
n laugh.

the spawn of the volcano is thick and impatient like the people around it.

sun rubbed dark freckled skin
makes the white
dress like
frozen wind
swept arctic tundra.

the unprepared will die
a horrible detached
burning cold
death.

nite.

rough francis opening for mos def wednesday 8/5

its been confirmed. should be a fun time.

also, check out their september calendar for a slew of good shows. sondre lerche, yo la tengo, son volt, great lake swimmers and matt and kim.

i'll be playing chicago detroit and cleveland with death and rough francis that month... there is going to me a lot of music in my ears...

i want to but i want to but i want to but i feel all inside out

killed the day. cannons firing. maple products. lumberjack competitions. clogging. teenage girls with cows. truck pulls. live stock. run away horse. secret swimming hole. tiny animals. rides. berries. food. computer fixing. haircut. recording...

i wish that i spent time
coming up with perfect lines
but more often than not
im washing my hands
or being productive.

lets look
lets look at my hands
n pay attention to how much
they listen to longwave
n ask them why.
in their cryptic communication
they will show you
series of fingers
that will mean nothing more
than nothing.
a willingness to answer
is better than
laying flat on the table
or sitting in a pocket
or hitting a face.

there is no one here who could paint you in a better light so if you have to go no one would blame you.

cities are built on marketing,
board rooms, entertainment, dollars,
designed to sell, to keep you there, so many meetings making everything perfect for the most people possible, wear you down, feed you what it convinces you is necessary to live, cities are built by people for people. convenience. this city has your success. this city will fulfill your dreams. this city is where your lover will be. this city is where good music is. this city is where movies are made. this city is where money is won and lost. this city has the biggest buildings in the world. this city was built from nothing in the desert and now you can get a condo there for 5 million. this city makes a space for you. you can go to this city with nothing and really make something of yourself. this city is opportunity for you.

the country doesn't give a fuck about you. it is what it is. always was and always will be.

things to do...

lots of stuff lately that have been distracting me from poetry. i've been trying to figure out my goals for the next year and which way to go. is this too much for one year? be honest. maybe 2 years. or 3.

buy land
pick stones from the land and use them to build a tiny foundation
build a tiny house on the tiny foundation
travel to / hike volcanos
tour a geothermal power plant
live a modern life sustainably (garden, water harvest, solar power etc.)
build a prototype of my solar grill design
refinish the floors / walls in the studio
finish mfdoj ep
start mfdoj record
play more shows out of town than in town
write new poetry book
come up with a good idea / outline for novel
write the novel
travel (iceland, uk, scotland, alaska, antartica etc.)
find a girl
be able to bike 40+ miles in a shot without dying
eat a 200 dollar steak
get better at buying clothes
go on as many road trips as possible
learn to weld / metal working
learn cabinetry
read more
ride in a glider over mt. mansfield
hike some new mountains

i think maybe there are other things but i cant come up with them now... if I told you something i was going to do and its not on the list let me know.

clashing chasing changing minds tell me what you've seen tell me where you've gone tell me where you've been tell me what you saw

i know. people keep yelling at me for not updating my blog.

i bought a bike yesterday afternoon and took it on its first trip today. thanks to a nifty iphone bike computer app. i know i went 10.1 miles. i wasn't sure how much was too much cause i haven't been on a bike in 20 years, and, while i am not completely out of shape i am no where near being in shape. i figured 10 miles was a good place to start. did it in 52 minutes. average speed the first 5.2 miles was 11 mph. avg speed the last 4.9 miles was 12.3mph. i think i could have done better speed wise both ways if it wasn't for the festival downtown slowing me to a stop at points. plus i didnt want to be able to push it in case i got tired and couldnt make it back.

i dont know anything about biking at all. but i hope to be able to bike to the islands and back by the end of summer at a good pace. i dont even know how far that is really or if its reasonable. maybe i will research that goal before i commit to it.

either way. i think this was a good purchase and i seem to enjoy it so far. if you know anything about biking and want to teach me things / go for a ride let me know.

this is not an excersize / bike blog though. so enough of that talk.

--

dear mos def,

i know you stated you wanted to do a documentary on death with damon dash. you said it for the whole world to see in the new cover article of filter mag. but you better hurry cause the vt boys are going to steal your thunder.

Detroit's own DEATH -Where Do We Go From Here? Documentary - Summer 2009 Promo from Howlermano on Vimeo.

i think death deserves to have 2 documentaries made about them. the hackneys are good talented people.

i tend to hold people to what they say. especially when they say it in public. so you better not let me down, mos def. i dont want to be disappointed. its pretty clear these vt boys are not going to let me down.

-steven

--

been doing a good job at listening to the polyphonic spree and blonde redhead.
its currently my 4th job. right behind: buyer, recording engineer / bass player, and intense distraction propagator.

It means a lot to find it so easy, and it takes a lot to find yourself way down.

i have a recurring day dream
of a massive band
playing planetary music
on the steps of a hall
renegade style
but perfect in execution
guitars drums percussion
pianos keys strings woods
voices upon voices upon voices
singing and playing
upward intertwined swinging
hand holding notes
about how, even when its time
to leave somebody,
its a beautiful day.

the chance i was takin' i get anxious around her she put her head on my shoulder i started to hold her

squeeze yourself into a different landscape
exactly

stories develop
details make them complete
more interesting to repeat
what yr doing now
jejune landscapes
thousand words
go

n wherever
there's a pillow under
yr head and a blanket over
yr side
n some water
n a book

the things i miss or the touch of your hand will make me understand the things i miss

ill not
remember
or i will
exerted freedom
on the days of rain
the clouds
keep everyone from
seeing it but
its still the sun
and it shines
n warms
pictures
sing
mbv

i cant sleep i cant eat i cant play guitar

looking forward to time passing

about face makes me wonder and in this case there is no thunder a bit of grace in our plunder

breathing
throwing punches and running
treble and high n treble n high
i dont know what it means
to run away
breathing breathing
for reps
but its gone
hard n for keeps

n water lapping
the recessing wandering waters
through the town streets n windows n doors
a tsunami rushed n rised
the stories ah the stooooreeeeees
of how everything happened and went down
n such details growing likes some new poplar trees
with the info traveling by specific name
of townspeople all related somehow
even if by childrens play partners
n how it goes how it travels how the things run through the stuff
the specifics importants escape the
whispers n the tales try and end
with shhhhhh silent verdicts
n the minds of the involved
n the hands of the teller
at the feet of the bruised
because the no choices
is no choices
n questions are not answered
when questions is 'where did this water go?'
answered with 'oh shit, there it is'
n leaves piles of destruction
n it runs away
back to the ocean
stacks of debreeeeee from d neighbors yrd
and holes with room for the cold cold air
to surround the cold cold
careful and quiet
black pictured
dark lit
room shivers
shhhhh

THAT just happened.

took a no planned last minute trip. been super annoying with my facebook posts. my camera decided to have problems so i dont have any real pics to document it besides the ones i took with my iphone.

right now i am listening to rosie thomas + fleet foxes trying to relax and shut down for bed... here's what happened on the trip.

friday -
fly to vegas, pick up rental car, check into the stratosphere, get 3 mini aps. and 3 mini deserts in the rotating 106 story high restaurant, hit one whole side of the strip. gambling, water fountains, fire volcano show, drinks, looking at stuff, talking to drunk people. mgm for giant dinner burgers then a cab home. crash

saturday -
get up, check out, breakfast, get a flat of water and sun screen, go to the welcome to vegas sign for a pic, hop on rt 15 west, take a detour into the mojave preserve, see worlds largest joshua tree forest, go to the the kelso dunes where the ranger strongly recommends we not climb them (its 120 degrees not on the dunes). we decide hes right. watch a video. take the tour of the building, continue on until we find an unmarked mining road, drive the trusty focus up it (the ranger recomended we not do this too, but whateves.) 5 miles later in the middle of the desolate desert - lava tube. climb down. and in. through a pitch black hole into the earth. scenery in general was amazing with lava rocks everywhere. so fucking cool. buried a skull in the sand for someone else to find. drove out and on to la. went to chelle and jims. then to the santa monica pier for a walk / ferris wheel ride. home. crash

sunday -
sleep in. relaxing morning, brunch with a lot of alcohol? getty for tons of art, relaxing in the amazing gardens and looking at the huge view of LA. shark sunday at the aquarium. crazy sea lions, shark and stingray touching. dinner at a place with a giant bar on the water (i forget the name) but incredible mac and cheese. quick detour to see the queen mary and a russian sub. then over to a little park with crazy cushy grass to watch the big planes fly directly overhead as they come in for landing at LAX. awesome steam on the wings and close up chem trails. you can practically see the passengers as they roar overhead. loud. home. crash.

monday -
coffees, pack up, return the rental, hop on a plane. hop on another plane. home now. crashing now.

anyway.

its nice to have a spontaneous reminder that the only thing stopping us from the fun / things we deserve to have is the ability to put ourselves in the right position and say yes.

awesome weekend. thanks tkbs, chelle and jim.

The Field Lab

I've been following The Field Lab for a while. He seems like a really cool guy. I especially enjoyed this post that was in my reader this morning.

Just sharing...

i get around the world upon your freeways it's true, when you let it go.

i got home and for some reason thought ordering chinese food and watching dr. phil would make me feel better. i guess its not surprising that it only made me feel lazy and gross. so i walked to centennial field, watched a lakemonsters game and walked home. the 7 mile walk made me feel less lazy and gross but not really better.

so i took you as my date
dressed fancy
all up on a hot hot hot summers afternoon
to a wedding on a mountain
with an old shack and a path
there were wild flowers
and butterflies and men peeing just off a logging road

at the reception in the tent at the field
i brought you drinks
'because that's what a good date does'
and i danced with you
'because that's what a good date does'
i watched you flirt / dance / and hang off some other guy the last half of the nite.
must be what a good date does?

near the end of the reception
you were drunk
i decided we needed to leave
we walked out of the tent
the path had turned muddy over the evening and you were in heels.
i carried you the 100+ yards through the mud
to the car
you laughed at me and started screaming
at my threats to put you down.

i drove your car.
you fell asleep 5 minutes into the hour long trip.
slept the whole ride.
at your house. you refused to wake up to walk yourself in the house.
stubborn.
i carried you inside and put you on your bed.
you stood up and took off your dress
then laid down and passed out instantly
without saying a word to me.

i left
walked home at 2 am
mud covered dress shoes
thin dress socks
shirt, tie
3 + miles
90 + humid degrees

the next day, around noon, i get a text
'where are you? why didn't you stay?'
'why would i stay?'
'i would have given you a ride home in the morning'
'i didn't want to assume i could sleep in the bed of a passed out half naked girl.'

silence.

later on
i brought you to a show
and drove you back to your house
with a dude you picked up.

tried to sleep but gave up again

my list of constants is down to trees
rivers, lakes, ponds, fields,
flowers, rocks, sky.

i dont see them as often as i'd like. in the way that i would like.
but thats ok. i know where they are and what they do.

we do crazy things when we're wounded everyone's a bit insane I don't want you catching your death of cold out walking in the rain

remember whats left
in a circle of passes
who's around when you're pale?
the flies, ant, hundreds of baby earwigs and me
and maybe some people with a giant truck full of kids.
snickers and laying on owls head.
drive fast on the pot holed heaved 232
for therapy.
helpful strong talented hands
spare 20's for boxes of crayons,
clovers
geraniums
balsam
visits.

more cases wheeled in its early friday evening york street is tepid

guitars and stomping
motivations
of the average american male
and a haibun journey in new york

hands and bread
hands and bread
give me your back
hands and bread

i'll tell you a secret I'll make it perfectly clear there's no secrets this year so your hearts blown open consider with your ear we are still sincere

been a lot going on i haven't blogged about. thats. ok.

will start rough francis recording soon. it should be a fun time. 4 or 5 songs? we'll see.

got something in the mail:

a field of colors by charlie lennox on mud luscious press

this is a small short chapbook about a mystical property magic field and some girls who keep the owner company.

you can get a copy free here if you want. i think it still available?

i'd give this press a bunch of my poems if they wanted to give them away in a tiny book. id even write something special that had to do with dirt, sweat, guitars, and stretched out t-shirts.

im typing all hunched over. the power supply to my laptop is broken again. i dont dare touch anything.

gotta get some things in the mail
a rough stop with the bag and the feet
a direct path
direct path
a northern stop
distracts the progress of tradition
but lends to the
get along of exception

thanks.

quiet

Death - Keep On Knocking from Howlermano on Vimeo.

wheredowegofromheredoc.com

shhhh.

went to see death vessel at monkey with a full band. it was a great thing.

lots of stuff going on but i haven't written about any of it.

i suspect staring at black jeans
through dark rooms is inevitable
the 70 degrees blowing is
t-shirt and calm

lets hang out this weekend. i am free for all of it.

been pretty busy not watching david byrne in an all white suit lately.

a month or so ago i went looking for beaver sticks
i found a few good ones but only kept one
i decided it was going to be my lucky beaver stick
i'm not sure why exactly that stick. or why i needed luck.
but i put it in my bag and its been there ever since.

Filling with the paragraphs that make no sense but are inserted in particularly heavy long areas to make you calm down a bit. Constants of long wood floors perpetuating the love of hard soled shoes and clean lines. Temperature variance for conversation and long long speeches with words meant for paper. Patterns for safety in failure. Left out water, budding trees and skies. Innocence running around knee high like clumsy ants, falling, hitting their heads, skinning knees and crying just under view. Never look down. Children can be raised by cats. They will be ok. The ground shakes under us daily in an ever decaying way. Trying to return to its normal state of dust and wind. All these clumps of materials floating around bumping into each other mucking up want of constant, steady, even cold. Clanking against the mast. Sloshing water all around. Wet footprints. White towels. White paint. White ropes. White skin. Conquering distance for the 'unattainable' cultivating and sustaining 'fantasy of life' or 'that which you need' or 'the little thing that must grow big' or 'desire for being 'complete.'' a thousand dead pines in a swamp standing branchless, grey, tall and straight. warm wind blowing and swaying forcing creaking songs of soulless solitude into the dark. disassociation. education. personally enterprising. It's only the moon, emergency officials in Puerto Rico are telling nervous islanders who have feared that recent extreme tides portend a tsunami or biblical catastrophe. Science.

philip glass

water pressure strong enough to shave your face.
reflections of pomo architecture
in glass that covers a painting of a skull.

not laboring over every word.
for the time its all right.
there is no going back.
so, here we have the left hand,
shining polished mounted stones,
flying around over heads
and over there the right,
pocket bound and listless.

i like to say i get my
cardio workouts when you enter
the room.

none of you stand so tall pink moon gonna get you all

listened to pink moon on the way home
cause anders covered nick and that record seemed right
walked the tracks on pine
one time i went end to end
on a rail but not tonite
there were piles of mud and a porta potty blocking the path
plus my balance is shit

i understand 'i dont know'
because i dont know either.
everything is.
and that's it.

i think tonite is the first nite i have ever wished that no one would sing in my ear while i sleep.

nite soldier.

fight.

cant sleep and i really need to
whatever
tomorrow and the next day are going to hurt

worry about everything turning into a story
campfire and miller lite
train tracks and burning embers leaving holes
in your pants

a freakishly clear nite
for the sound of peepers
so it can travel farther
and the light can make
dew on the eyes of resting
the grass of nesting.

we'll make due with what is ours.
its easy to start a fire
and the trees will always grow
the lake will always wash the shore
and the stars will always let us
see a million years back
when our rocks were still molten
and our water still acid lakes
forming salt beds.

what is this for our time and stress
and words?
living to a manufactured hope.
we cant stand not having purpose
so we strive to create it.
thats evolution.

by we i mean you and i
as individuals.

fuck evolution
my goal
is to touch a tree every day and see a star every nite.
"the purpose of simplicity
removes the stress of complexity"
is my new theory

i hope it removes the knot in my stomach
but will no doubt make it worse.

sing a song tonite
make it loud and fast
and hope coffee isnt broken in the morning.

nite soldier.

all the things
a triumph of negotiation
and reasoning
just as planned
still secrecy
still water
still sleep
still
ceaseless motion

MFDOJ (and a shit ton of other great burlington bands) on Break Thru Radio.

Listen here.

What you're going to hear:
00:00 Spotlight on Burlington,Vermont
00:39 Your Shirts are my Favorite Color-My First Days On Junk
02:57 Nightlife-Crinkles
07:40 Black-Nudas Veritas
13:05 Pheobe-Paul and the Mystery of Gravity
15:52 One Hundred Roses-The Smittens
18:11 Spotlight on Burlington,Vermont
19:09 Half My Heart Beats-The Smittens
22:00 Loneliness-Villanelles
25:40 Dandelion Wine-The Cush
28:39 Life Of The Party-My First Days On Junk
30:59 Real Science-Crinkles
34:36 Operation-Paul and the Mystery of Gravity
36:28 Spotlight on Burlington, Vermont
37:06 Muskrat Love-Cave Bees
40:06 Nice and Easy-Husbands AKA
42:39 The Breadth of Your Thigh (IT'S BIG!!!1X!!!!)-Lawrence Welks and Our Bear to Cross
45:06 Walk of God-The Vacant Lots
47:22 Thought Before Sleep-A Snake in the Garden
56:25 Spotlight on Burlington,Vermont
57:05 Posting-Mike Device
62:37 Love Concentrate (Mike Device Remix)-Ryan Power
68:00 Wait It Out-Villanelles
72:03 You're Free-The Cush
76:41 Spotlight on Burlington, Vermont
77:10 Drive-Nudas Veritas

Thanks Break Thru Radio!

If you're going to start with melody you'll need some tympani, I think.

entries like my last one make me laugh at myself.

walked down town got caught in the rain listened to gene krupa and joy formidable with the thunder eventually got soaked and came across a car stalled in the middle of a knee deep 50 yard long lake in front of cumberland farms. i pushed her out because i couldnt get any more wet. walked home. dried off. saw the derby dames.

been a serious slack at updating this thing. maybe lack of thinking time. i dont know. i did some heavy duty daydreaming today in the rain. mostly had to do with being in a tornado. is it normal for a 32 year old man to admit he day dreams? whatever. you do it too.

i thought of a lot of things to write about but ive forgotten them now. oh well. you'll have to do with what is here. i'll try to do better for you next time.

you cant explain away the blissfully unaware nor could you tolerate them if they always had answers.

New Video for MFDOJ'S Count Me In, I'm Good To Go

Sorry its been quiet... been working on this:


Please watch in HQ.

Credits:

Michele: Frank Zammiello
Patricia: Leda Nutting

Directed and Edited: Rob Koir
Director of Photography: Mark Covino
1st Assistant Camera: Emily MacKenzie

Also Staring:
Rucchi
David Zacharis
Shawn Lipenski
Brooke Dooley
Colin Clary
Anastasia Evans
Josh Bridgeman

Special Thanks:

Pierre's Repairs
The Other Place
The Clothing Line
Burlington International Airport
1/2 Lounge and Bar
Ake's Place
James Kochalka Super Star

this girl sits next to me and talks to me for a few minutes about the stooges

she says 'its hot inside. this is the best drink i've had all nite and its just water. i wish i had some more.' she looks at me like she expects something of me.

after a couple of seconds of her stare i say 'they probably have more inside'

her: 'i just asked you to get me some water in a round about way and you just told me to get it myself. is that what just happened?'

me: 'yes'

she gets up and goes inside.

your skin is black metallic your skin is black metallic your skin is black metallic your skin is black metallic your skin is black metallic

the darkness
raising
coal smoke from ten thousand
chimneys flooding the sky like
its nite and minus twenty
but its day
and plus eighty nine.
complicated devil
with a name for sheer white.
suck the shit out.

the decay of civilization.
in battle a slap on the head with a big ringed hand.
the decay of personal specification.
in battle a blending of updated meaningless combinations of words.

such things have been defined and will be carried out.

crawlspaces coughing dark dirt dust and rock
covered depths
contraband from miles down
its the depth
that brings value
and the fight
the fight
fight

want you to know that i took all i could take it's been so hard to see and breathe through all the smoke left in your wake

starting fires to fish by
bridges and flood waters
coasting down hills and around corners

didn't do most of what i planned today. but i dont mind. laying on the grass reading in the sun with friends is a good way to spend an afternoon.

took some back roads home. i dont know which roads i took but i killed the sunlight finding my way back. saw a huge cool barn and some great views of mansfield.

being down by the water
and up on the sand
a little while in the water
and book for the hand

it settles filler words
light makes trees blackness + brown
poetry can fuck itself
the way it hangs

yes, no, silence, smile and frown.
1 multi purpose button.
everything you need.

the grass is cold its the dew on your feet

had a rough start to the day. but after work i got to dig in the garden. moved some giant stones. touched a lot of deer shit. did a rough francis interview on wruv. its archived on their site if you want it.

the sky is super clear and big. a million stars. its nice but cold.

still havent got any poetry in me. going to read some hemingway.

nite soldier.

i'm a rock n roll victim too.

rough francis will be on the radio tomorrow. details in the pic above. interview and live jams.

also i could use a ladies small trench coat, ladies small horizontal blue stripped dress and a ladies small-ish vertical stripped bathrobe. if you have any of these things and want to lend them for a video let me know.

tried to do some gardening yesterday. i have a lot of work to do. been working on lots of other stuff. many finish soon. updates to come.

i need to read. good nite.

all it says
stacks of bricks
the corner of a field
some city block
stain with white some where along the way

temperature changes
mostly based on feelings for the day
set up shop
broken windows
dust

introductions
cars on gravel roads
corn on the cob

excuses for substitution and
a pay no mind
a lot of going nowhere
with stories of escape at mind.

i'm having problems making lists tonite.

hold me dear into the night sun it will rise soon enough

tonite
when we sleep
lay on your back
looking up a
million miles from the stars a
million miles from talk a
million miles from leads a
rest in quiet
as close to peace as possible.

nite soldier.

irony.

smart.
water up through the grass
coated with snow
cold wet dirty puddle
thick dirt under
print print print
print
print

print

there is a house by the sea and an ocean between it and me

everything you heard is true
'natural leather belt and jeans drive me crazy'

arches are hard
strong
cant be broken
thats why i like them
::example::

rain
window open
nite

lets stumble upon mt. zion to behold a natural gate

i was going to write lots of stuff i thought about all day. but as usual... nope.

its true
i hear things that have months put into them
and an hour time stamp
from a voice in the corner
ties everything up

all i have is morals
and you see where they got me.

i want to go to fargo.
or the ocean.

someone needs to take me either place.
i wont say a word.

the great spirits proclaim that capitalism is indeed organized crime and we are all the victims.

who would have thought the punks were right?

i think today i got more pissed of at jim douglas than ever before. do me a favor and call that dude to give him a word fist in his ear jaunt. 800-649-6825. or send him a letter here: http://governor.vermont.gov/contact.html

dont join a facebook group about it please. stop being a slacker and actually participate.

also.

friendly reminders of darkness
sections for me
sections for everyone
i break out
i am crafty
you can not hold me
watch me when i escape
i will do the best damage ever

coming through the mitrailleuse a howitzer cannon and a thompson gun oh you're a slovenly bunch lousy with sin

early morning
sun up and window sills
temperature change and
water rising outside
to the banks
to the banks

soon the water will sink
the skunk cabbage will grow through the silt covered grass
and the fisherman will leave their
hip wader prints on their
way to the shore for rainbows, browns

early morning
sun up and window sills
temperature climbs
from cool to almost warm enough
to stick skin together
in just a few minutes

early morning
sun up and window sills

sun rising dangling there golden and fair in the sky

collection
thoughts
shelves
escape
show
;)

i will not say a thing. i'll just keep smiling. i'll just keep smiling.

i have settled with these winter songs and cant switch to spring
as comforting as the dark cold windy space is
it just doesnt move
when you need to move

changes, spells
and games with consistency
are understood as
attempts to make the sun
shine on your face faster

i like to talk about understanding
as if its an impossible thing.
it works when you need questions to ask.

quarter notes sending letters of simplicity
all the way to new york city.



nite soldier.

her eyes were like stars, trembling blue stars

i wonder how we dont destroy ourselves
i wonder why we do


recorded memories
in the future
sometimes we will remember and enjoy.
sometimes we will be confused.


i spent some time tonite sitting next to a woman who was reviewing and commenting on another womans poetry. the reviewer read some of a poem out loud, commented on changing something and then asks the poet if she's been to group therapy yet. because she really should go. the poem was about being beaten. the poet didnt want to talk about it.

the reviewer told the poet using 'north and south' isnt a common dichotomy.

i nearly said something. what business is it of mine?

everyone is serious

so many conversations
about scrambling for
'stability'

i understand.
i am not good.
i am not a destroyer.
i understand.

do my best to keep the heat at bay maybe that would make you want to stay in the hot, hot rays

the freep did a short little interview on me and my poetry here

thanks!

also:

1. its not early but it seems like the sun just went down
2. sleeping through sunday mornings and watching this old house
3. kitchen counters
4. path in the woods
5. hallway
6. i think most things are funny, weird or awesome
7. vast landscapes, crayon color, furry accuracy, spots where the sun lands
8. boundaries
9. boarded, deep, salt, sweet heaven in the dark / sweet hell in the lamp / sweet corn not captured.
10. you.

lets have a contest. i want to give you something.

rough francis recorded a bunch of death songs and some originals for a wruv radio show. there will be a live interview / airing of us playing live sometime mid month.

i cant believe the day is over and it started really early.

i heard 'thunder storm' in the weather forecast but i didn't hear any details. i don't know which day or night or what its about. but if there is a thunderstorm it will make me glad.

here is the contest. leave a comment in the blog. i will put all the names of people who leave a comment in a hat the end of the week, draw them out and send you a free copy of soft-pedal. and mfdoj CD. and whatever else i feel like throwing in. it will be worth your while.

rock it soldier.

he said go build a song 40 heartbeats long and sacrifice it for your love

had a great weekend. the sun and friends were nice. plus got a fair amount of work done. mixing and rough francis practicing.

my tonevendor order also came in so i have a stack of records to go through. exciting.

listening to white hinterland now.

so the mystery
is this time
we level out
until the fear is not
then step

im dripping in the melted m
music of shit falling and i
i aint never had no body like you, i, 1
1-2-3
a take in the studio
paint on the polished
wood floor
squeaks of surprise.

i had a letter in my head this afternoon. i think it was one long line. it happens when i sit in the sun (or dark) and thoughts have a while to collect all together sort of like tiny sticks floating they scatter as easily as they come together and it got lost. sorry

nite soldier

at least half the brilliance of most things is the context in which they exist.

Death and Rough Francis in the NY Times

Its here. You can tell your friends there is a gross sweaty picture of your friend Steve playing music in the times.

also, this afternoon i got nervous that i was going to have to learn how to play 30 different british tv theme songs for people to use as their ring tones. but that did not happen.

also, i think i will have a short interview about poetry and maybe a picture? in the burlington free press on wednesday.

also, we should compare what we like to whats happening to see if there are any similarities.

also, some other things.

rock it soldier.

when you're in texas, look behind you, cause that's where the rangers gonna be.

spent my hour after work working, recorded walker texas ranger theme song for bd to use as a ring tone for when i call her. i decided if you want me to record a snipet of a tv show theme song for you to use as a ring tone i will. just leave a comment with the song you want done. i will email you an mp3 in 3-5 days. i will be playing a shitty guitar and the recording will be done with my mac laptop microphone into garageband.

also.

i pretty much live
outside.

when the headaches go away i am looking forward to the ideas returning.

now I've got an indication I'll hold out against sensation I know that if I really try I think I can hold out

poorly sampled pianos
sort of shaky
a little warbled

room of worn wood
glass and shine

clean clean
move
black

fast
blind
mute
for purpose

you know the night time is the right time for to be with the one you love.

had a great weekend playing music, seeing music, attending various social events, looking at dead things and listening to a meteorologist talk about stars. also managed to get some mixing in there.

i didn't really sleep much this weekend. i think i'll start catching up on that now.

i think that one day
stories will come
and change our view

laughing old ladies
will talk fondly
of stories told
where they were the subject.

...

lets smoothing things out
i am too simple
for most things

Rough Francis (Playing the songs of Death), Chris Brokaw and the Persian Claws

come to our show!

ok?

thanks!

there's nothing on my mind and life seems kind

i like how we waste time
as a game

the first day of my first poetry class
we had to write a paragraph about what poetry was.
a girl wrote about how poetry
was like a glass fish bowl full of marbles
dropped on the floor.
i knew i was in trouble.
i dont remember what i wrote
whatever it was, it wasnt what i really thought.
i dont know what i think now and its not important.

thinking too much about stuff we like gets us into trouble sometimes.
sometimes we just need to do and see what happens.
i dont want trouble.

nite soldier.

we had a close call, i didn't even see it, then another one, i hardly believed it at all.

my post from yesterday was very off. its ok though.
i decided a while ago i would not post when i am very tired.
hence less posting. but whatever.

i think i am going to marathon some things. then write a book that i will never publish. i keep going through it in my head and i think it will work. we'll see if that ever happens.

i'd like to write a book.

today i visited old people at the eye dr.
i related to them too much i think.
they were all tired and having problems functioning.
one literally was sleeping in the waiting room and i helped another dial a phone.
another old man read jokes to his old wife out of readers digest.
she just had the psychedelic injection and picture taking session.
i know what that's like.
its not funny.

la di da

'cause i just can’t look - it's killing me and taking control Jealousy, turning saints into the sea turning through sick lullabies

...on converted minds
we wonder why we look at the sky.
the niceties and solitude of darkness.
surrounded by a constant.
knowing the light from
death will travel millions of light years
for something else's eyes.
eternity is appealing, warm and reliable
even though the space it occupies is so cold
and uninhabitable.
constant
constant

constant
constant
put out feelers
touch eternity
frostbitten

you dont know what you do to me. peoples hearts heavy down in misery.

had a good weekend. more good music and good people.

tired tonite.

sleep early.

your hands when you play soccer
trivial waves
of silent air
motions at spare
space and rules.

blinders today.
lots of work done.

nite soldier.

FDR. It's been a while, but we desperately need to talk. PT 2

rucchi over at the rucchi show posted the entry that is below the other day. It was deleted. Lately, there have been posts all over the blogosphere about google deleting their posts with no notification why they did it. when google deletes any post they need to send you a notification why they do it and give you a chance to argue your case why it should not be deleted. I am re-posting the original post below as an experiment...

----

FDR. It's been a while, but we desperately need to talk.
from the rucchi show by therucchishow

(I never want this to be a political blog and it won't be. There are very few things that make me irrate, but this next thing is one of them)

So let me get this straight.

Part of the new stimulus bill seeks to recover executive bonuses(exceeding $100,000) paid out last year using the initial bail-out money. Okay...sounds good right?

well...

according to this 'economy saving' stimulus bill, any executive bonus exceeding $100,000 has to be paid back within 4 months OR they will face an excise tax of 35% on any portion of the bonus above the $100,000 limit.

wait a minute...huh?


What asshole idiot would actually give back all of the free bonus money when he/she is now legally allowed to keep 65% of it?


Congress you passed a bill saying that "Yes you greedy corporate fuckers need to give every last dime of that bonus money back to the taxpayers within 4 months or else you'll have to pay 35% of it back!"


thank you?

we are nothing but ideas

Now my hope is that I am wrong about the idiocy of the newest bailout.

I don't like to political rant in here but I am not happy about several things that are happening in local and federal politics. I have written letters and stated my frustrations / opinions.

It is your responsibility as a citizen to learn about issues in your community / country and provide feedback. Your vote is not your voice. Your voice is your voice. Please use it by contacting your representatives. You can find the information easily from your representatives or states website. It is what they are there for.

Fight, soldier.

Every other band I am in except MFDOJ.

Death, and in a few cases Rough Francis were mentioned in lots of places today. NPR.org, Fader, Pitchfork, Stereogum, and Guardian.

This is a good time to remind you Rough Francis is playing the Death record @ the Monkey in Winooski Feb 27th with Chris Brokaw and Persian Claws.

You should probably come to this show. We aren't going to play again local for a little while.

ALSO. Since I am mentioning shows and bands I am playing in all over the place. This Saturday, the 14th. Valentines day. I will be celebrating the pain of my pure heart by playing bass with Lets Whisper. We are opening for The Depreciation Guild and The Pains of Being Pure at Heart. POBPAH have been getting more press than anyone else in the world these days.

I hope to see you at both of these shows.

Rock it soldier.

little darling, i feel that ice is slowly melting little darling, it seems like years since it's been clear here comes the sun

haven't posted pics in a while... so here are some for you. i apologize if they are huge when you click on them. i didnt knock them down like i usually do.


lake champlain


commit a crime



fuck you society

had a great sunday. lots of sun, good people, good music.

you dont always have to say something when you write... as long as you keep writing.

and we've slept where before we wouldn't stand, and we cant hide our hands because we've all smeared guilt across our faces

in retrospect walking all over tonite probably wasnt a good idea because i sprained my ankle this morning. oh well.

things are repeating.
i've noticed lately.
i'm getting old and i dont mind.
things are the same.
i just laugh at myself more.
i hope soon i will be an old man.
leaning over to tell you about
far fetched things that never happened.
you will listen and laugh
because my face will be wrinkled and shaved.
that will be new.

nothing tonite.
shhh.
nite soldier.

::

reading all this :...:
and being level headed.

a skill.
learned.
shoulders.

poised with temperate manner.

focus.

not trivial.

direct.

full of purpose.

abdication.

slime.
dirt.
slapdash bitchass bigger than head fists
arent fury
are drunk and speak with
love.

a monument of victory.
hand signals.
secret languages.
sleep.
sleeeep.
protection of headphones.
monumental victory.
monuments.
rrrrrrrrrrrrr.
monolith.

resolution <> solution
qualification <> victory

slow slow crude and unworldly
'my witness is the sky'
its lose lipped mouth'll
yell what it sees
from behind the safety
of clouds
and still give out a
intro and conclusion
that'll make ya say
'awe'

apathetic <> insubordinate

I'm up in the woods I'm down on my mind I'm building a still to slow down the time.

My First Days on Junks No Order has hit college radio and is getting some play from what I can tell. Don't forget to call you college station and request it.

1. separate
2. rain
3. affliction
4. reliance
5. foxy
6. excerpts
7. well balanced
8. get out of your own way
9. uncomplicated
10. you

that "hurricane what's-her-name" mentality was not for me and never could be cause it surely brings bitter things and misery

spent the nite framing. it took a few hours because i am slow but i framed 7 smaller prints. now i just have to figure out the big ones... and get some more wall space somehow... or do some outlandish hanging a-la the steve keene neon newport hazard hanging of the early 2000's. the wood paneling really held that together.

black crows breath
floating out,
heat into cold,
just like yours.

tonite,
the cold heats skin
touching skin
under blankets
in close sleep
because
it needs some peace
just like you.

we're always doing damage control but in the middle of the night i worry it's blurry even without light

went to the photobooth book opening
then bkd and i played games on paper while a czechoslovakian made us food. i had a half chicken. then over to the bean for some experimental stuff, barbacoa and persian claws. its great that the last few shows i have been to have been packed full of people dancing. persian claws and barbacoa were both great. i walked home in quiet.

sleeping you is better for me
because i cant stand the ocean
anymore
it snowed tonite
a squall
from inside it was a replacement
of traps. pretty for pretty.
outside i wore a hat
because moisture kills in cold.

nite soldier. keep your chin up.

A day once dawned from the ground then the night she fell and the air was beautiful the night she fell all around

worked in the studio.
walked around.
listened to surf music.

it was a good day if you like snow.

i thought about a valentines poem i wanted to write. it would be long and would work against the positive attitude i am working on. so i decided not to write it.

today i have strength
in my hands
they are old and normally weak
my grip is not strong
but today,
today i have strength,
i feel like a new man.
the door knob turns with ease
and swings right open
i can leave without struggle
and my groceries,
today, they practically carry themselves home.
my knees,
they move like they
have been greased
with royal purple.
i dont know what it is
but my legs carry me down the street
like i am 16.
my neck turns today.
my head is not hung
it moves freely and without pain
i can look up at the birds
and down at the concrete.
i can see the river to my left and storefronts to my right
without hearing the internal creaks
of neck swings.
i look at the pretty girls
who are still out of my league
but for a different reason
and think:
'if my penis got some of this new found life i might just talk to that pretty lady'

im afraid that hes already wise to all the things that i have done.

spent the day doing house cleaning at the studio. shuffling stuff around and putting the last of the jacks in the wall. i guess it wasn't a full day. i was slow to get going.

so now i listen to slow acoustic music
with lots of space
through my shitty computer speakers.
i am tired of fidelity

i used to make mental notes of things to write about all day.
i stopped doing that a while ago.
needed some space.

its cold.
windy.
dark.
and all this space tonite
is for warmth.
if i can find some.

Early dawning, Sunday morning. It's all the streets you crossed not so long ago.

Bradley's Almanac listed MFDOJ's No Order as some of his favorite music of 2008 here.

Its always awesome to be scrolling through blogs you read daily and find your own stuff listed there. Thanks!

Also I got word that One Happy Island was voted one of the best bands of 2008 by twee.net. Nice work! They are playing a bunch of shows soon. Probably near you. Check out their myspace page for more info.

The Rough Francis show with Blowtorch and Vacant Lots was super fun Friday nite. I didn't really take many pictures. I have been slacking in that department lately. If you have some send them to me.

People in the basement:


Have a great Sunday. Fill your mouth with coffee and pancakes.

burning shit for obama

bd and i ate carrot cake (we couldn't find pie) and started a fire that became the center of a galaxy for obama.

now i am listening to jvkm without any pants on.

i had some thoughts that revolved around mercury rev lyrics.

i havent really been able to get in the poetry writing mood lately. i'm not sure why. im bet it will change. in the mean time here is a poem for you by langston hughes

Let America be America Again

Let America be America again.
Let it be the dream it used to be.
Let it be the pioneer on the plain
Seeking a home where he himself is free.

(America never was America to me.)

Let America be the dream the dreamers dreamed--
Let it be that great strong land of love
Where never kings connive nor tyrants scheme
That any man be crushed by one above.

(It never was America to me.)

O, let my land be a land where Liberty
Is crowned with no false patriotic wreath,
But opportunity is real, and life is free,
Equality is in the air we breathe.

(There's never been equality for me,
Nor freedom in this "homeland of the free.")

Say, who are you that mumbles in the dark?
And who are you that draws your veil across the stars?

I am the poor white, fooled and pushed apart,
I am the Negro bearing slavery's scars.
I am the red man driven from the land,
I am the immigrant clutching the hope I seek--
And finding only the same old stupid plan
Of dog eat dog, of mighty crush the weak.

I am the young man, full of strength and hope,
Tangled in that ancient endless chain
Of profit, power, gain, of grab the land!
Of grab the gold! Of grab the ways of satisfying need!
Of work the men! Of take the pay!
Of owning everything for one's own greed!

I am the farmer, bondsman to the soil.
I am the worker sold to the machine.
I am the Negro, servant to you all.
I am the people, humble, hungry, mean--
Hungry yet today despite the dream.
Beaten yet today--O, Pioneers!
I am the man who never got ahead,
The poorest worker bartered through the years.

Yet I'm the one who dreamt our basic dream
In the Old World while still a serf of kings,
Who dreamt a dream so strong, so brave, so true,
That even yet its mighty daring sings
In every brick and stone, in every furrow turned
That's made America the land it has become.
O, I'm the man who sailed those early seas
In search of what I meant to be my home--
For I'm the one who left dark Ireland's shore,
And Poland's plain, and England's grassy lea,
And torn from Black Africa's strand I came
To build a "homeland of the free."

The free?

Who said the free? Not me?
Surely not me? The millions on relief today?
The millions shot down when we strike?
The millions who have nothing for our pay?
For all the dreams we've dreamed
And all the songs we've sung
And all the hopes we've held
And all the flags we've hung,
The millions who have nothing for our pay--
Except the dream that's almost dead today.

O, let America be America again--
The land that never has been yet--
And yet must be--the land where every man is free.
The land that's mine--the poor man's, Indian's, Negro's, ME--
Who made America,
Whose sweat and blood, whose faith and pain,
Whose hand at the foundry, whose plow in the rain,
Must bring back our mighty dream again.

Sure, call me any ugly name you choose--
The steel of freedom does not stain.
From those who live like leeches on the people's lives,
We must take back our land again,
America!

O, yes,
I say it plain,
America never was America to me,
And yet I swear this oath--
America will be!

Out of the rack and ruin of our gangster death,
The rape and rot of graft, and stealth, and lies,
We, the people, must redeem
The land, the mines, the plants, the rivers.
The mountains and the endless plain--
All, all the stretch of these great green states--
And make America again!

Langston Hughes


---
in addition. dont forget to hug and thank your friend who does social work. even if their work doesnt directly effect you. they deserve it. and. thanking them / being their friend does not count as social work. after you are done being all awkward with your thanking and hugging. please ask them how you can help then follow through.

we all appreciate your initiative.

good nite soldier.

fight.

tonite i have
and listen to
pianos
i watch skirts
peer in mailboxes
for missing keys

OMG Posters, Official Awesome, Milk Milk Lemonade, and a bunch of other stuff.

List of things:

1. OMG Posters! Posted a nice thing on soft-pedal here. You can buy the book here.

2. Official Awesome posted some info on Rough Francis and Death here.

3. Milk Milk Lemonade posted My First Days on Junks 'Try Hard' in their Sorting the Shoe(gaze) Vol 2. comp. With a bunch of other great bands. Get it here.

Bonus info:

Rucchi and I will be playing a few songs with Lets Whisper on valentines day. We are playing with the Pains of Being Pure at Heart and The Depreciation Guild.

There is also another Rough Francis show at the Monkey on 2/27 with Persian Claws and Chris Brokaw of The New Year.

This blog will go back to being a thing besides a list of links and shows soon. maybe. hopefully.

rock it soldier.

Death in MOKB and Rough Francis show

My Old Kentucky Blog posted and article about Death here.

When is rough francis going to play the death songs again? Glad you asked.



hope to see you there.

soft-pedal now available for sale.

My new book is now available here:

Soft-Pedal is 32 poems about nature, speculation and frustration.

The packaging was designed by rucchi. It has a 3 color hand screen printed cover with a die cut hole. You get 3 one color screen printed inserts so you can choose which one you want to show through the hole.

This is a signed and numbered edition of 100.

all this dog and pony we're still monkeys the whole time we could not help from flinging shit in our modern suits and ties

and severance wonders what motivates her
to leave her near mile high town
for cash monies slid
in her jean skirt pocket

a copyrighted symbol
© 2009
right before her name

oh, very well, then
stubborn beauty, stubborn beauty
oh, very well, then

Go on black don't pass me up lets destroy don't make it stop my tornado clean shit up my tornado

1. The Casbah put Try Hard on their podcast for for best tracks of 2008 here. There are a bunch of other songs on there I like too by Magnetic Fields, Beach House and the Ravonettes. You should go there and check it out.

2. No Order is now on sale at Tonevendor here. They have a ton of other great stuff there too. While you are buying my record you should buy some other awesome stuff.

3. The show my other band, Rough Francis, had at 242 back on 12/5 was listed by the Burlington Free Press as one of the best shows of 2008. Check it out here.

3.5 Uncut made a post about Death here.

4. Rucchi made a cool post about Soft-Pedal here. You can see what the films and stuff looked like from the printing in the one sheet. I will put it up for sale soon I think.

5. Started mixing the new Darker Hues record today.

The reading the other day was pretty fun. It was the third time I have read. I'm going to call it a success. The other people who read were really fun to listen to.

a common goal
shining shells
run away
niagra falls...