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buy it and own it
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all 16in x 20in acrylic paint/marker on canvas
$100 each
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s .tribou art 6.11
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stage view//s tribou art6.11
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pop radio/coffeggs/3332
everything looks different when the light is changed
lens dipped in another hue
morning visitation and a full proof plan
“where are we most efficient?” i ask
“how can we spend the rocket fuel?”
my answer is a grin and a smile
ear to ear
like the devil playing with his colection of souls
all lined up and placed in plastic vehicles
driving to the plot
like god beating at the coastlines
with ocean waves and wind
laughing at the body count
we wanted to be traitors today
we wanted high velocity
a sparkle and a bucket of fire
loose lipped strategy and guerrilla tactics
settled for coffee and eggs
talked about the weather
how it makes people dumb
then decided it wasnt the weather
people are just dumb
talked about new music and how new is old is new
an emulation
reliving memories
fighting ghosts and demons
she told me about her idea of love and what it means
i copmpared it to a mcdonalds drive thru
she pleaded her case with a “heart”
i compared it to a box of roofing nails
the waitress doesnt like me
i think its because im writing everytime she tries to speak to me
i thinks shes an ugly woman
she isnt well groomed and looks dirty
she smells like cigs and depression
i want to request a new waitress but the kind of place this is youre better off just leaving
breakfast was fine tho the service stinks..literally
our conversation shifted to my ideas of luv
she compared my heart to an old dog
tired but honest and loyal
the waitress just spilled coffee on my plate of eggs
i tell her to tighten up her roller skates
she tries to shoot me dead with her laser eyes
shes just bluffing
back to ideas and comparison
im being criticized
this is fine and im actually enjoying it
its great to find out what people honestly think of you
people usually just make you out to be what they expect of you
no matter who you really are youlll always be the version they made in their mind
i let my new morning friend talk on
she tells me about travel and how my spirit is alive but full of doubt
she tells me i have so much to give
she tells me to take the minor chord out of the new song i wrote down on a napkin
then she tells me to tie my shoe and that too much sugar is bad for me
she tells me about her work and how it tells her what to do
about her car and its dents and fractures
self inflicted and fueled by alcohol
i ask her if she evr wonders
she asked what im talking about
she asked what shes supposed to wonder about
“i guess i cant tell you” i respond
my coffee is cold
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——-Heres your count in
red and grey with black and white keys
made of plastic and aluminum and sitting next to me
like a robot waiting for my command
instruction and guidance
i give nothing and wait for it to command me
im waiting for electricity to shoot from the outlets
lightening bolts from the ins and outs
fire in the midi
connected to a line direct to brains waves
explicit and raw
im waiting
nothing happens
———-a perfect b positron
im gonna travel backwards
time has a certain elegance when you alter it yourself
i dont like to skip thru milliseconds
i dont like to disregard
finished two paintings in two hours
thats how it used to be
i never cARED IF THEY WERE ANY GOOD
JUST AS LONG AS i can see my hearts reflection in them
i have nothing left
speaking of “art”
some sold and some given away
some shipped across the country
some shipped out of the country
i wonder wher ethey are
i wonder if they hang in interesting spaces
i wonder who’s eyes see
i wonder what they think
a couple in indianapolis messaged me and wanted an explanation
they wanted meaning
they had their ideas
they had their own curiosities
they asked me if their ideas were right
if thats what i was trying to say
i told them i painted them a picture so they could paint their own
just use it as reference
it hangs in their childs bedroom
he was 5 then
so that means hes 12 now
he grew up looking at my artwork hanging in his bedroom
he’ll remember it for the rest of his life
that painting is a part of his childhood
it was an honor and a priviledge
thank you indianapolis
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l,u,f,r,n,b,b,b,h,j,f,i
life is just orange marmalade when youre living out of a plastic baggie
its a carnival and an ice cream cone
on this current day
i am present and accounted for
im the glue that holds your popsicle stick castle together
the batteries in your broken flashlight
the hero and the villain
im 6,7,and 8
and every other letter in your alpha-bits
read me
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triple jinx
this painting
this specific piece of perfect plastic
draws lines between what you see and what cant be
this paper and ink bulletin represents electricity
hearts captured in a chicken coop
picture frames
unheard conversation
the cracked tooth jester
his purple haired negative
converse laced like an all star
heres your grid with names
place yours carefully inside
pick your spots
carry the zero
write out your script
cash in your chips
seal it with a shot of whiskey and a kiss
beside the others
youre so extraordinary
as the earth comes rushing in
who responsible
for the one who carries
a shovel a ditch and a mud puddle
a crown a roll of aluminum and a bread tied ring
remember when to wake tomorrow
dont forget your heart
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kyoko
i guess its like a mission
somethings never change its just one less voice and engagement
i was sent here to make matchstick drawings
beauty from the burned
a pleasant interruption
a spirited collection
for who and whom i will never meet
its early in the game and im already watching the clock
i was commissioned
summoned for a reason and i accepted
my keys keep making noise in my pocket
i guess they have something to say
its distracting and humorous at the same time
i continue to push ash into paper
i continue to give
i begin to wonder if time travel is a good idea or not
and what its like to be invisible
why there are no hover cars
no jet packs
and how i wont see the hockey game
not this time
its art
but what isnt
i put in my time and wipe my brain clear
im a cartoon drawing of a version of me that you thought of
highly animated
by japanese hands
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Lalli
i saw the devil shopping for souls at the local goodwill
told me due to high gas prices and raised interest rates
forced to piece together a discount bargain bin army
with a smirk and a nod
conversation shifting
realizing we are both fallen angels
standing in line waiting to check out
there were no souls of interest it seemed
the devil left with an antique lamp ,three candles and a conway twitty record. (still in its original plastic)
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456(four fifty six)
what and where did you wanna be and how did you plan to do it
how much excess packing tape will you put around the cardboard edges
where would your head be if there was no war
how many photos can you take before the battery runs dry
save the flash
forget about radiation
guests on neatly inked pieces of paper
responsibility and pride
heres a better view thru a dirty dusted window
without seeing the imperfections in the glass itself
reflect and left is right
better you than me
if we all throw in
put in our two sense
we can save and get a helicopter
then we’ll go from there
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sixty one (61)
theres been so much ive wanted to tell you
a light at the end of the tunnel
a buzzing in your ears
heres the face paint and puffy nose
big shoes and a bag of balloons
heres your box of matches and an ashtray full of water
heres your education and deliverance
a book with blank pages
there is no fire in your “hell”
jesus was a drunk and a beggar
if i had your proof youd see the resemblance between god and santa claws
like a dictionary and a mirror on a bored and troubled night
im the fight,the love,and the lost cause
im the marching band
the engine
a sentence fragment
a rocket ship
the astronaut and the space station
i can write you fiction
true story
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the proof is in yer ears
i see faces all over
most are seemingly sweet and painted with the most expensive paints money cant buy
teeth flowing like flooded puddles
eyes on guard and masked
scary on the brain
happy with a friend or faux
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settle is sleeping
there were 3
30 minute rehearsals
no guitar
just synth,vocals,and loop station
its like rearranging your living room to create more space
i have ideas for the next couple of shows
right now i do not have enough money for the production costs
right now i do not have enough money for a dollar cheeseburger
1 today
a 30 minute rehearsal minus the guitar again
i havent used the same sounds for the songs yet
i keep changing them
drums,beats,percs too
i never settle
neither should you
