jeremy stands close to the wall's drop , holding


a paint brush & a light bulb. a toaster is on its way.


he descends along the underbelly of the flock, while we move



airborne, ho. I often go the other route


of putting the points


of interest at the edge of a piece, and creating a design that forces the eye off the edge of the canvas, I'm interested


in the tension that that can create."



this is for the ones that got away


the invasion of cages into our breathing spaces


trespassed along my sky, your country, this my tiny



moon.




and don't you forget it.











































































fred bakes archetypes into glazes


innocent gaze on the fence of discovery.


it's what we all watch when we turn on



tv. exit probability and statistic, enter beauty


holding beast, reverence on her face.


why do you do it? she's asked.


"why am I doing this?" she tries to answer it


as honestly as you can, because with this


knowledge you can plan



a life that you'll find satisfying.






If you're interested in money, you can make


one series of decisions. Fame? Potentially another






































. If you want to simply paint


what you what to paint, like outside the window



the way ozone and water combine


with leftover sunlight at dusk how you're trying to capture


that specific blue, the one you want


for a ring, and a band around your neck, those choices will be
different again."





















so then there was this font


that wouldn't come home. we baked


a chocolate cake and everything.but he



kept getting further lost. like andrew wyeth on saturday nights


after the diner closed . you just kept coming back for ham


and eggs but nope, the door was stayed shuttered


the economy hadn't picked up, despite washington's insistence


and forty six million people just disappeared


when the accounting


class had added all their tickers and tapes and medical benefits a sort of



exasperation at the folly of my fellow


monkey's, these days though


I'd say they're about attempting to capture


a mood,


a fairly specific one,



but one that I can't quite grasp


internally, I'm trying to work it through














































so it was kind of a shock when the cosmonauts


sank into the sky, coming down at us like gravity


didn't matter all the sudden, i felt like a ghost in atlantis



and jeremy said he felt more like a sponge about to be scooped


from the seabed. laurie laughed at us both


from her swing where she was pumping her legs


like first grade, didn't seem to care who saw


up her dress, not jeremy, not the cosmonauts she said


she could knock them out of the sky


that's how high she was going



to get before the bell rings.


we scurried over to the curb of wood that always


smells of creosote and played a quick hand


of 2012, with slaughterhouse rules.


when the bell rang we looked over


at the swing just in time to see laurie


launch herself into the air and fred


caught her on his cell phone turning round


to see who was behind her with just a trace



of sorrow in her eye.