i dreamed a rattlesnake was loose in the closet i heard it rattling i was afraid to open the door



a man suffering a toothache goes to see his dentist the dentist administers laughing gas when the man comes to his numb tongue swooshes around his mouth he asks how long was i under the dentist answers hours i needed to pull them all out



he imagines when he grows old there will be a pencil grown into one hand and a paintbrush grown into the other they will look like extra fingers grown out from the palms extensions of his personal evolution little children will be horrified when they see mommy mommy look at that man’s hands!



what if we are each presented with a complete picture of a puzzle from the very start then as our lives proceed the pieces begin showing up out of context sometimes recognizable other times a mystery some people are smarter more intuitive than others and are able to piece together the bigger picture some people never figure it out



i wasn’t thinking i didn’t know to think nobody taught me to think maybe my teachers tried but i didn’t get it i wasn’t thinking i was running reacting doing whatever i needed to survive when you’re trying to survive you move fast by instinct you don’t think you just act



many children are relieved when their parents die then they no longer need to explain prove themselves live up to their parent’s expectations yet all children need parents to approve foster mentor teach love



she was missing especially when her children needed her most she was busy lunching with girlfriends dinner dates beauty shop manicure masseuse appointments shopping seamstress fittings constant telephone gossiping criticizing she was too busy to notice she was missing more than anything she wanted to party show off her beauty to be the adored one the hostess with the mostest



i dreamed i was condemned to die by guillotine the executioner wore black and wielded an axe just in case the device failed in the dream the guillotine sliced shallow then the executioner went to work but he kept chopping unsuccessfully severing my head this went on for a long time



1954 Max Schwartzpilgrim sits at table in coffee shop on 5th floor of Maller’s Building elevated train loudly passes as he glances out window it is typical gloomy gray Chicago day he worries how he will find the money to pay off all his mounting debts he is over his head in debit thinks about taking out a hefty life insurance policy then cleverly killing himself but he cherishes his lovely wife Jenny his young children and social life sitting across table Ernie Cohen cracks crass joke Max laughs politely yet is in no mood to encourage his fingers work nervously mutely drumming on Formica table then stubbing out cigarette in glass ashtray lighting another with gold Dunhill lighter bitter tastes of coffee and cigarettes turns his stomach sour he raises his hand calling over Millie the waitress he flirtatiously smiles orders bowl of matzo ball soup with extra matzo ball Ernie says you can’t have enough big ***** for this world Max thinks about his son Odysseus



when Odysseus is very young Dad occasionally brings him to Schwartzpilgrim’s Jewelers Store on Saturday mornings Dad shows off his firstborn son like a prize possession lifting Odysseus in the air Dad takes him to golf range golf is not an interest for Odysseus Dad pushes him to learn proper swing Odysseus fumbles golf club and ***** he loves going anyway because he appreciates spending time with Dad once Dad and Odysseus take shower together Dad is so life-size muscular hairy Odysseus is so little Dad reaches touches Odysseus’s ******* feeling lone ******* Dad says we’ll correct that make it right Odysseus does not understand what Dad is talking about at finish Dad turns up cold water and shields Odysseus with his body he watches Dad dressing in mornings Dad is persnickety to last details of French cuff links silk handkerchief in breast pocket even Dad’s fingernails toenails are manicured buffed shiny clear



Odysseus’s left ******* does not descend into his ******* the adults in extended family routinely want to inspect the abnormality Mom shows them sometimes Dad grows agitated and leaves room it is embarrassing for Odysseus Daddy Lou’s brother Uncle Maury wants to check it out too often like he thinks he is a doctor Uncle Maury is an optometrist the pediatrician theorizes the tangled ******* is possibly the result of a hormone fertility drug Mom took to get pregnant the doctor injects Odysseus with a hormone shot then prescribes several medications to induce the ****** to drop nothing works eventually an inguinal hernia is diagnosed around the age of 9 Odysseus is operated on for a hernia and the ******* surgically moved down into his ******* the doctor says ******* is dead warning of propensity to cancer later in life his left ball is smaller than his right but it is more sensitive and needy he does not understand what the doctor means by “dead” Odysseus fears he will be made fun of he is self-conscious in locker room he does not comprehend for the rest of his life he will carry a diminutive *****



spokin alloud by readar in caulkknee axescent ello we’re Biggie an Smally tha 2 testicles whoooh liv in tha ******* of this felloh Odys Biggie is the soyze of a elthy chicken aegg and Smally is the size of a modest Bing cheery



one breast ****** points northeast the other smaller breast ****** points southwest she is frightened to reveal them to any man frightened to be exposed in woman’s locker room she is the most beautiful girl/woman he will ever know



Bayli Moutray is French/Irish 5’8” lean elongated with bowed legs knobby knees runner’s calves slim hips boy’s shoulders sleepy blue eyes light brown hair a barely discernable freckled birthmark on back of neck and small unequal ******* with puffy ******* pointing in different directions Laura an ex-girlfriend of Odysseus’s describes Bayli’s appearance as “a gangly bird screeching to be fed” Laura can be mean Odysseus thinks Bayli is the coolest girl in the world he is genuinely in love with her they have been sleeping together for nearly a year it is March 11 1974 Bayli’s birthday she turns 22 today Bayli is away with her family in Southeast Asia Odysseus understands what a great opportunity this is for her to learn about another culture he knows Bayli plans to meet up again with him in late summer or autumn in Chicago Dad wants Odysseus to follow in his footsteps and become a successful jewelry salesman he offers Odysseus a well-paying job driving leased Camaro across the Midwest servicing Dad’s established costume jewelry accounts Odysseus reasons it is a chance to squirrel away some cash until Bayli returns it is lonely on the road and awkward adjustment to be back in Chicago Odysseus made other plans after graduating from Hartford Art School he is going to be an important painter after numerous months and many Midwestern cities he begins to feel depressed he questions how Bayli can stay away for so long when he needs her so bad the Moutray’s send Mom and Dad a gift of elegant pewter candleholders made in Indonesia Mom accustomed to silver and gold excludes pewter to be put on display she instructs Teresa to place the candleholders away in a cabinet Mom also neglects to write a thank you note which is quite out of character for Mom Bayli’s father is a Navy Captain in the Pacific he is summoned to Norfolk Naval Station in Virginia the Moutray’s flight has a stopover in Chicago Bayli writes her parents want to meet Odysseus and his family Odysseus asks Dad to arrange his traveling itinerary around the Moutray’s visit Dad schedules Odysseus to service the Detroit and Michigan territory against Odysseus’s pleas Odysseus is living with his sister Penelope on Briar Street it is the only address Bayli’s parents know Odysseus has no way to reach them when the Moutray’s arrive at the door Penelope does not know what to tell them Mom and Dad are not interested in meeting Bayli’s parents it is not the first sign of dissatisfaction or disinterest Mom and Dad convey regarding Bayli Odysseus does not understand why his parents do not like her is it because Bayli is not Jewish is that the sole reason Mom and Dad do not approve of her Odysseus believes he needs his parent’s support he knows he is not like them and will likely never adopt their standards yet he values their consent they are his parents and he honors Mom and Dad let’s take a step back for a moment to get a different perspective a more serious matter is Odysseus’s financial dependency on his parents does a commitment to Bayli threaten the sheltered world his parent’s provide him is it merely money binding him to them why else is he so powerless to his parent’s control outwardly he appears a wild child yet inwardly he is somewhat timid is he cowardly is he unsure of Bayli’s strength and sustainability is that why he let’s Bayli go whatever the reason Dad’s and Mom’s pressure and influence are strong enough to sway his judgment he goes along with their authority losing Bayli is the greatest mistake of Odysseus’s life



he dreams Bayli and he are at a Bob Dylan concert they are hidden in the back of the theater in a dark hall they can hear the band playing Dylan’s voice singing and the echoes of the mesmerized audience Odysseus is ******* Bayli’s body against a wall she is quietly moaning his hand is inside her jeans feeling her wetness rubbing fingers between her legs after the show they hang around an empty lot filled with broken bottles loose bricks they run into Dylan all 3 are laughing and dancing down the sidewalk Dylan is incredibly playful and engaging he says he needs to run an errand not wanting to leave his company Odysseus and Bayli follow along they arrive at an old hospital building it is dark and dingy inside there is a large room filled with medical beds and water tanks housing unspeakably disfigured people swarming intravenous tubes attach the patients to oxygen equipment feed bags and monitoring machines Dylan moves between each victim like a compassionate ambassador Odysseus is freaking out the infirmary is too horrible to imagine he shields his eyes wanders away losing Bayli searching running frantically for a way out he wakes shivering and sweating the pillow is wet sheets twisted he gets up from the bed stares out window into the dark night he wonders where he lost Bayli



these winds of change let them come sailor home from sea hunter home from hill he who can create the worst terror is the greatest warrior

They've dressed first ladies, Academy Award-winning actresses and supermodels.

Now they're designing casual luxury that they believe appeals to women all over the world.

Marie and Kelly Gray, the mother-daughter duo and former head designer and chief executive officer, respectively, behind luxury house St. John, opened a new chapter with the debut of their apparel company Grayse two years ago.

Grayse, a ready-to-wear line retailing from $195 to $1,250, hit racks at select Bloomingdale's — including the Fashion Island location — Saks Fifth Avenues and boutiques in Palm Desert and Canoga Park.

The most recent expansion was introduced this month — a pop-up shop, also at Fashion Island. It will be there through February 2016.

"We're very excited," Kelly said as she sat in the newly designed boutique, next to Traditional Jewelers, near Bloomingdale's. "My mom's taste for luxury is the benchmark for the brand."

That penchant for design came together in 1962, when Marie and her husband, Robert, founded the St. John clothing line, which is headquartered in Irvine.

The couture with a core of signature knits remains the same today with its decorative touches like beads, crystals and buttons that are gilded with 24-karat and hand-sewn during the finishing process.

But after 43 years of designing and crafting the simple yet elegant knit dress, the Grays left St. John in 2005 when the company was purchased by a private equity firm. Eight years later, in 2013, the two women were back in business together with their new Grayse label.

"My mom was playing golf and she hurt her knee, and during that time, she came into my office and had ideas for a new line," Kelly said. "We decided to put a little collection together and started with 15 pieces, and now it's ballooned into this."

The new label of casual, versatile separates and dresses is a modern collection of Italian silk-printed tunics, leather jackets and embellished tops and dresses.

Most of the collection is produced at the company's headquarters in Irvine.

Kelly and Marie, who do the designing for Grayse, said they have an appreciation for working together.

"It's so much easier as adults," Kelly said with a laugh. "It's amazing and it's a privilege. We're both excited about our foray back into retail. I can be more conservative, and mom tends to push the boundaries."

The designers have recognized the difference in style between the Palm Desert and Orange County shopper.

Women in the desert getaway prefer a polished look and tend to dress up more, while the Orange County woman's style is edgy and relaxed and she is always looking for new and contemporary shapes.

Fashions have evolved, Kelly said, noting that after 2008, as the country was reeling from the Great Recession, consumers reevaluated how much they spent on clothing.

"Today, people have an appreciation for a relaxed style and easier price point," she said. "Grayse is more whimsical. It's a brand you're purchasing for Thursday, not weeks in advance. It's buy now, wear now."

Reconstructing the interior of the building housing the pop-up was challenging, Kelly noted, adding that friend Tom Penna, president of ITX Construction, helped get the boutique set up months before the holidays.

On opening night at the Fashion Island pop-up shop, the boutique's newly installed chandelier glistened and mannequins were clad in holiday gowns tailored with shimmery pave embellishments.

"This dress is so comfortable and doesn't wrinkle," Kelly said as she showcased a black and gold pave-encrusted floor-length dress. "It's exciting to make every woman of every shape feel beautiful."

read more:www.marieaustralia.com/long-formal-dresses

www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-sydney

So what is the new next thing?
isick ilich selum lee lay lum
syntax brizoke choke sizome
jabber wizock riverrun,
past Eve and Adam
Raisinets, Kay Jewelers, Round Up ‘s the way
Nirvana sun Gaga Ketchum drum Bellum

Numb undone-or-been done “that’s right son you tell’m”
“Ugh a rhymer?” “a diner.” “no stop it,” “crop top it.”
“No really I’m feeling like this meter is cheating”
“but I can’t stop,” “that didn’t rhyme” “oh yea”

So now what?
What is there?
Can I go any further?

Not not, come **** ****
September November taint
I, you, it—‘s all ****

They crowd around her, as if she is the last straw
reads aloud what she wrote, together and feel
the pain as their own, her words breath fire
the picture of exploitation naked, painted  is real
what exactly they wanted to holler to the world is this:
"Lend your ears,for once,  hear all about our plight"
but in empty darkness it echoed, none heard.

"Stop reading my poetry" she'd curtly tell them
" It's no good" she lost all faith, where is justice
in the world we live, the underdogs fall by wayside
may it be women, children, aged.Who cares!"

Look at those girls, taut, depressed and mute
crying may do good, even that they are not capable,
they work round the clock as cheaply paid sales girls,
in textile or jewelers' shops rich frequent to buy
expensive stuff of every kind to show off
"We are on our feet all day long, put on
the nice uniforms employers insist to wear
we are mannequins alive,flexible more than plastic,
of flesh and bones, but even we forget
our feelings are to be tightly wrapped,with smiles"

"I want to cry all night long, when i think
of my life, back home, all my tear drops had dried,
only what you write has the power to make me cry,
your poetry is the pill for me to cry, how I enjoy it!"

"it's very private, my devotion to the lullabies for the dead,
each speak the words of the dead, some are uttered
by the not yet dead, going numb in their feelings
whenever i feel like crying i write them, when I do
my blood boils, I become blue with rage and helplessness.
i doodle in words, why read my words crinkly
you wouldn't understand a thing, it's complex
it doesn't mean what you think perhaps, the drops
of blood splattered there has violent stories to tell
i don't want any one read the secrets of my psyche concealed

But then i am a companion of you in this bleak, desolate world,
so i'd forgive you making me feel naked, we all are here..
so, let's huddle together and sing  about the passions still left"

I sing to feel the love and pain again
Were we meant for something, or for nothing?
I can feel you with me up until the end
But this wall between us is not budging

My dreams show happy times in our future
While my nightmares reveal our crumbled past
We were a few steps shy of the jewelers
Then I woke up and ran before you crashed

You know now you brought it upon yourself
You don’t know you brought it upon me too
I hurt because your head wasn’t in good health
I wished to say I do and not adieu

Now that you know how badly you need me
I must decide if we were meant to be

you sometimes stumble into these situations
without even wondering
how else to later describe them:
verbatim...
                      however the mundane the details
are...
    i should a series or something,
Gibsberg-esque, not not quiet
     'what thoughts i have of you,
walt whitman...
                                     i went into
the neon fruit supermarket, dreaming of
your enumerations!'
     but still... scenes from supermarkets...
more grit, realism...
                         just like tonight:
went for two beers and a whiskey with
thoughts, more alligned to:
                why do i dream so little?
why the weight of thanatos' clepsydra
on my chest upon waking
from a dreamless night -
            as if: starless in...
                  places like a district in seoul...
well...
         i found myself standing in line to
the cashier...
    some guy behind me was asking
by name / nametag (a high rarity event
of the general impersonal take on
shopping - or in matter of fact...
    the degredation of the sellers...
                   unlike elsewhere,
   circa 1980s Poland - where the
saleswoman amassed a status of ms.
   and the buyer was never a mr.
     or a mrs. but a strippen-barren you -
now exchange the words,
    pani                       /                ty
                               lost in translation)...
(Karen)
                about lightlubs...
                 i.e. yeah, they were different...
but in front of me... a real curiosity...
placed the beer and the whiskey
next to the cashier...
    stood casually for...
                   "    no apparent reason"...
a decent 2 minutes...
         the guy started fiddling
with two debit cards,
       and a handful of change...
i mean... 2pence coins 1 pence coins...
twenties, maybe a quid,
tens etc.
                first he tried one card
on the contactless... failed...
                  then he gave the handful
of change to the cashier
who started counting it...
    she counted: almost three quid...
i.e. not enough
      for what he was about to steal...
all the gift of the gob...
    i mean: those little conversations...
you know the yappy yappy puppy
sort... talk like honey...
  or an aqua-man...
                            just kept pouring
out... excuse here there, excuse there...
apologised to me for waiting...
sure sure...
             he was given his spare change
back...
        so he takes out another card:
again, fails on the contactless...
  so he's asked to insert it and use
the pin...
                  oops, says the cashier... failed...
oh... a quick glance at the clock...
an open carrier bag... next to the thing he's
going to steal...
              mouth of honey doubles down...
what time will you be closing?
      15 minutes...
          oh that's alright then,
   i'll just come back with the missing change...
walks away...
   and i'm like...
did you see that?
          only my eyes are talking.
cashier no. 1: see what?
security guard:                   (too late)
cashier no. 2 leaving
work, fiddling with her
shopping on the self-checkouts:
  (she'll come into this story when
i'm walking out with my whiskey
and beer,
   i'm eyeing her queerly
she's eyeing me huh? passing me
she starts muttering to herself)
                        he knows he knows
(gritted teeth talk)...
   as i look at the security guard,
a colt... quick on the mark!
                   linford ******* christie quick...
i did love the little shuffle and mini
dance as he tried to avert himself
from me...
point being...
    it's a petty crime...
                    i did one better...
less theatre, stole a c.d. from a...
w.h. smith...
                   cds books...
          but **** me... all that theatre
using spare change, cards,
mouth of honey, confusion... for the item
that i saw being stolen?
  so i thought:
     maybe this guy is moving up in life...
maybe there's this sort of jinx
for thieves,
that you have to steal this item
before you do a bank heist...
                                or the jewelers...
just something...
    i mean... i've heard of ******
junkies stealing meat from supermarkets
to sell et&
                          i mean...
me stealing a c.d. from a store...
   with cameras everywhere...
  but this guy... it had to be... he was
probably told by some guys:
   you can't do a proper job
on a bank if you don't steal this piece
of item first...
      because who, the ****,
would steal... a pair of woman's tights?!
unless he has a gig
   as a drag queen...
             a fetish...
                  or... eh?
                        i mean... that's like...
why the **** would i even
watch the movies?
           - and... i can't even make this up...
unless... a very...
    what sort of man would be
with a woman who tells him:
even if you don't have the money...
you better steal for me... a pair of tights...
yeah...
berkeley 1955...
          ginsberg thinking about
whitman walking into the neon fruit
supermarket...
essex 2019...
   me thinking about how i don't
dream enough walking into
a supermarket and seeing
     linford ******* christie security
guard do a little dance
   after he realised
  that the mean before me
just stole a pair of woman's tights;
hardly a ******* comparison.

Let me tell you something about double agents
It’s not what you think
Oh, they look good at the beginning
Some of the information is quite valuable, even excellent
But what you don’t know is that they are false double agents
I’m talking many of them, maybe even most of them
So it is with deep skepticism and bitter experience
We look at them with a jewelers eye
But we’re wrong way too many times
It’s the Russians, the Chinese, hell anybody who has an intelligence service and isn’t part of NATO
So we trying to trap them and then we prosecute them
Or send them back
More often they take off on their own
But what can you expect in this ***** business?
It’s hide and seek for real

Swear to god this is a true story.
Picture, like, the hottest woman you’ve ever seen-
like Natalie Portman in Black Swan
like Angelina Jolie in Gia
like a young Carrie Fisher in her slave Leia outfit
like any **** star you’ve ****** it to, honestly, any **** star
and there’s this woman, she’s standing bare-assed naked in front of me
swaying her hips slowly and making all these other women
look like Sloth from the Goonies, “Hey You Guuuys.”

Her hair, I just want to run my hands through it, messy it up,
yank it tight the way a jockey grips the reins when he’s about to come
in first place at the Kentucky Derby.
Bend her over, make her my Kentucky Derby.
Her hair, I **** you not, it looks just like yours.

Her eyes, I swear to god, in her eyes I could see the sunrise,
the sunset, the Aurora Borealis, the Perseid meteor shower,
and a lesbian **** on the beach in Cabo during Spring Break.
Honestly, if I couldn’t **** her brains out,
just staring into her eyes would’ve been a great consolation prize.
As a matter of fact, you and her have the same eyes.

Her smile, sweet Jesus, I wanted it.
I don’t just mean I wanted her lips wrapped around my *****.
I mean, her smile was enough to run to Kay Jewelers or Aaron Brothers
or wherever the ******* go to get a ***** a ring.
I wanted to love her the way police bullets love black bodies.
Believe it or not, her smile was exactly like yours.

And her ****, do I have to mention they’re the best pair I’ve ever seen?
God probably even patted himself on the back for those.
Of course, I haven’t seen yours yet…

I swear to god, she smelled like a waffle
and I don’t mean that cheap instant toaster ****,
I mean like home-made batter poured into a waffle iron,
topped with gobs of butter and expensive, top-shelf Vermont Maple
and I don’t know if I’m supposed to be ***** or hungry;
but either way, I want to dive right in.
Don’t give me that look, breakfast is my favorite meal.

So she takes her finger, brushes it against my lips,
and I would’ve ****** the Universe out of that finger,
but her touch is like gossamer.
She slowly dances her finger lower,
pauses at my chest, probably wanting to swirl it in some chest hair
but I don’t have any–this is probably confusing to her.
When she trails lower toward my belly button, it tickles
but in a good way, the way it tickles when you slide your finger into
the envelope that holds your Christmas bonus.
This woman is such a tease and I can’t help but think I should tie her up
and go down on her like a bulldog eating peanut butter.
She’s not even touching my **** yet and already I want to blow my load.
I’m afraid I just might when she finally gets there.
Her touch still so soft, so gentle, so delicate
like the extra-absorbency tissues I ******* into…

****!
It all makes sense now.
I’ve fallen asleep after ******* again.
See, I read this article about the benefits of ******* before bed
so these days I’m finding every excuse to take a nap.
Only imagine my surprise when I open my eyes.
I wasn’t imagining that delicate tickling sensation.
Sitting proudly atop my ***** *****
like a ******* prince charming ready to take down the dragon
is the biggest, meanest, ugliest, blackest black widow I’ve ever seen in my life.
I swear to god, we do something like lock eyes, I’m frozen in terror
and I shake my head furiously but the ****** bites me, anyway;
I scream that like poor sap Aron Rolston; only
it’s my ***** that get caught underneath the boulder.
I smack the **** out of that black widow.
But it’s too late.

And now, after all the venom
and the swelling and the oozing
and the scabbing,
well, my ***** isn’t as pretty as it used to be.
I wouldn’t, but others might even use the words
“ugly” and “deformed”.
To be honest, it breaks my heart.
And no ******’ kidding, now, my *****, well,
it looks just like you.

Silver beckons,
Platinum calls.
jewelers precision.
diamond drops, necklace impossibility.
azure coast, cries oceans of gold.
clamshell closure. kick back at the jellyfish.
ocean spray to wash it all away.
sandcastle liquidation from a avalanche of chance.
frame it in platinum, here for stands a masterpiece.
said the seaweed.

The brightest of all diamonds,  
Is the one that your love weaves through;        
From your heart it gets bright sunlight,
jewelers and I are drawn to.

A jackpot of awesome beauty,
That's highlighted by your heart's gold,
Has colors of awesome splendor,
In your heart is where they unfold.

A kaleidoscope of beauty,
Whirls about in your rainbow heart;
It's made its way to the art world,    
Where talks of it quickly did start.