1. |
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2. |
Above Green Water
04:08
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There’s a troll under the 6th street bridge sleeping 100 feet above in a hammock made of concrete with a mini-fridge of rotting baloney and books picked up along the way from the passersby who reads in the shade below
his hammock his shade his tv
runs off the shade because plugs are a welcome mat to the NSA controlling microchips in cars inspiring the ones who misbehave to turn left too early atop his hammock into
his river his pool his shower his toilet his skin
as he plans a mexican takeover in the hopes of accomplishing one more thing
since the war because the cable company took Dexter off general broadcast and in his day you needed a gun to rob a man as frustration builds
as access as lack of as abundance of time of anger
heightens the pain inspires the pain inspires the tossing of baloney onto foreheads and feet who just want salvation under
his hammock his shade his theory his baloney.
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3. |
Meet My Mother
03:26
|
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|
An old man awakens to the sound of Niagara Falls and the site of some punk’s balls quickly grabbing spectacles with the hopes of breaking testacles when
the porch door swings open to the yard with clocks one minute apart from one another’s ceramic frog sitting atop a grapefruit watching from a distance avoiding drama and trauma and he’s not afraid to go back to prison because he’s tired of cooking for one but first he needs to consult his mother made of steel and just like that Niagara runs dry all in a days work so we go back
to plant pumpkins and a creek flows as mother knows her time has come to bang another drum made of dog food for run- aways and rusted bikes for god knows who but at least the mailman comes every day and the orientals next door still have no clue how to trim an orange tree for
the bees that buzz and sting and ring the bell when it’s time to put mother back with the umbrellas.
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4. |
Doing Dishes
02:53
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Flappy birds flopping
in the clogged sink floating and fizzling as bubbles pop
with scents dispensing like strawberry soda shots of guinness dripping and dropping
up the gutter
and down the shirt of your nice tuxedo with a penguin
lit on fire under your ass as the floppy flip flop flapping flap flip bird pinches the shoulder
of a panda who ponders and panders and ponders
how did I get here?
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5. |
Ownership
02:38
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|
Who spilled my beer? Who spilled that beer? Who spilled his beer?
“he did”
the race is on through a circular city of lumps and bumps and loops and drops that pop with hot dog flavored diet soda spilt on your shirt as the wood is thrown towards your face but you duck as he drops and he falls and he sleeps as you slap the accuser because he spilled that beer
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6. |
Optimism
03:07
|
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Liquid pours under the wire with just three ticks left as chili spreads atop the chest of a boy no more than 40 only when he wears white only when we wear white only wondering if it is an accident or if the white is just another canvas another space another opportunity another place another creative mustard sandwich embracing salami and my BBQ chips fall in my beer under the wire of the tick tock as we look on the flip side of the flop of chili on your white shirt.
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7. |
Heart
04:14
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The downstairs neighbor keeps his presence known through persistent beating and pumping and filling and draining of blood
and sugar and water but it is tolerable because you can just turn up the air conditioning to mask the sound
until one evening he beats to the rhythm of a bad Slayer cover band giving you a hand when you least need it as you think about entertaining more natural more organic more rooted treats from trees and bushes and soil to grow as gifts
to leave at the doorstep as a kind way of asking for some peace and quiet.
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Future Taco Los Angeles, California
FUTURE TACO is a quarterly zine of asporationally poetic doodle dropping brain fairies swinging and swaying from clouds of
cheese and pumpkin seeds spread across sheets of pink foil ripped like gray hair lacing bank statements long overdue from flippy flop floop flipple flap.
futureta.co
... more
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