INSTALLATION VIEW 1
INSTALLATION VIEW 2
MUG-SHOT
These written pieces have come to be known as 'wordWorks'. They are found two to a Diety, on opposite sides of a single page-like element that floats on a wood-stick framework centered between two panels decorated to simulate camouflage style decoration, a reference to the invisibility of the dieties' influence on the Councils.
LOGANBERRY LOGARITHM
A duck-billed duck in the neighbor’s yard
Orders his breakfast eggs pointing east
The duck’s God stood-by standing guard
Noting every move by the village Priest
Six moves around the hexagon hound
The Priest helped prayers become adorned
Package them up heading outward bound
Arriving at sunset completed and warned
Two weeks in the jungle living downtown
The Priest at sunset prayed for grace
And rediscovered the duck-billed clown
Spinning last week’s egg on his duck-billed face
The critics and journalists met for drinks
Mixing in their darkest day steals
They invited the Priest they care what he thinks
But were chased off the beach by mating seals
COSMIC KICK-ME
We’ll try it again some other time
I’ll get back to you right away
The mountain top’s still a backward climb
On the typically rock-strewn highway
Formative years at the speed of sound
Connecting the dots on your farm
Were chased by the world’s prettiest hound
While answering questions with charm
Leap year returned again early in March
And left by the time June got back
It took all the corn without any starch
And nothing of value outside the last snack
Disorder and dissonance carried the day
And beat it from lunch until dinner
Then dragged it downhill in a horse-drawn sleigh
Returning to town ten pounds thinner
SLIDE RULE OF THUMB
Something that seemed almost physical pain
From days and weeks and months in the gap
Chasing the tail of the Dragon of Sane
From East to West using up the map
A smile of the hint from inside the tent
Set in the woods by the edge of the lake
Visitation as oxygen serves to augment
Reinforcing the shields that otherwise break
Small calendar fixtures worts on the clock
Not enough nights in Newcastle-on-Tyne
Stumbling blocks preventing the walk
From flying across the Maginot line
At home in the country low glowing dim tavern
A gathering place of strangers and kin
On top of the whisky & wine cellar cavern
Connect the good people not needing to win.
JOSEPHINE THE PLUMBER
Never mind would never guess
In a thousand years if he were you
The abscess access street address
From Napoleon at Waterloo
Its always good to hear his voice
Ten thousand years he’ll only whisper
Which always seemed to be his choice
Instead of speaking loud and crisper
His white triangled social climb
Up Waterloo’s waterfall
Began to leak not just part-time
From melting snow atop Nepal
Josephine and all the King’s men
The Bishop the Knight the Rook and the Pawn
Using plumbers tape from the five and ten
Up all night watched the flood at dawn
CUTEST NUDEST
Alice said she’d take the bus
She brought her new wine bottle
No room for thirst from any of us
Her cork wedged tight behind the throttle
She drove non-stop to Athens, Greece
From her home with Quetzalcoatl
She never let our speed decrease
Til we picked up Aristotle
Ari took all her fishing tackle
And loaded it in his crossbow
One-by-one we heard her cackle
The first to laugh the last to know
On our way back home to Montreal
Ari’s aim blew out a tire
Alice drove on on Seconal
As her wine bottle caught on fire
ALL OF THE ABOVE
Unfortunate and sinister never unyielding
Marching ancient infantry as paratroop
Was five start general Sir Chester Fielding
His Army of one he saw as his group
Gold buttons on coat gray hair on his chest
He took cold tea for his ragged platoon
In hard pressed campaign southwest of Trieste
They were fighting in trees with a single harpoon
Just after ten under full moon light
In a wagon filled with hot dry straw
For better or worse prayed the Acolyte
Who just gave up learning to paint and draw
Roadside signs grew up from the mud
To paint or draw them was cursed
Sir Chester’s harpoon drained all his blood
Leaving his odd shaped lips pursed
TIME UPON A ONCE
Don’t worry about a thing please pardon me
Our cold duck is ready to drink
I’ll sit you under the vitamin tree
And see who’s the first to blink
It’s never polite we always stare
To be called on we raise our hand
While industry captains foul up the air
Burning cigars they just taught to stand
One way traffic came and went back
Past the homes of Keats and Shelley
Past Monterey Bay and Monterey Jack
And a bill board by Boticelli
Critics were dueling with words at ten paces
Burning paper and leaving scorched Earth
The same look on all their reader’s faces
Proved their endeavors zero of worth
PARALLEL SPHERES
Rattlesnake milk not diamondback wine
A barrel of ocean way under priced
The hawker’s voice hung off the vine
His package of dust iced and spiced
Find our way back to rattlesnake farm
While lost in the horse latitude
Manners our jockey was brimming with charm
His ground swell running round nude
His 5:30 show was cancelled at six
The audience remained on board
His stage came down in a pile of bricks
On his cashier’s meager hoard
The jockey and hawker left town to the right
Claiming ownership of all the dust
It came to them both in the deep of the night
Take care where you sleep and trust
OXFORD BLUES
A style of the typical entry phrase
He couldn’t really ask for very much more
All of the small talk books were ablaze
From the folks he’d met at the store
The folks made him eat his words for lunch
In a large café by the pier
Smoke and drink with the hell-raising bunch
He leaned very hard on the point of his spear
Five folks from the store out in the field
To the shovel he used for digging his ditch
His gossip itself would never yield
Planting rumors at fever pitch
Onboard to the mainland the folks sailed off
They started at mid-night a rainy sky
Their sound track by Rimsky-Korsakov
Leaving their rumors to wither and die
WARHEAD OF HAIR
From the presentation of outline books
By philosopher authors in need of new feet
His long line of family was stuck on three hooks
While fishing downtown for something to eat
Building downtown made of uptown brick
From drawing designed to meet the need
Replaced all the paper stacks three mile thick
Providing them all a new place to feed
They ate with abandon yelling their prayers
To the lords of the farmers that reap
While the mayor and council were putting on airs
And media moguls to sleep
The philosopher authors and moguls debated
Bettering each others full color fog
They analyzed everything power created
Their rainforest reducing to merely one log