When two men, one who makes pictures of words and one who makes words of pictures(sort of) set out to bounce words/images off each other, things can get stuck in a loop of literal feedback. To break this 20 GOTO 10 cycle, I offer up this nonobjective thing. 

Terrible drawing is terrible. It is based upon the following poem:

Sometimes I ponder if fireflies form

in the bellies and hearth or burnt rubble

like some sort of hive for which light is let loose only 

when the temperature is a met like

an easy bake oven 

at 450 degree

fahrenheit

not Kelvin. 

Fireflies living little short lives

of light and lumination

exchanging pleasantries with trees and plants

as if we started talking to our house or busses. 

God knows how. But that’s not the important thing. 

Yes it is. 

Quiet, you.

Good luck, Max.

My friend Max and I are starting a thing in which he writes a poem, and I do a drawing based on said poem, and then he does a poem based on that drawing, and so forth. Here is the first installment. The poem, which came first, is below.

<poem>

Big Blue Empire

In Kentucky,

They burn couches.

It’s a sign of Love. Pride. Respect. Religion

The burning of ones couch post mortem of basketball  

is as sacred as service

It’s communion served with Coors

and draped in bud light blue.

WIldcats.

Saturday my street will serve as 

funeral pire for fallen dreams leveled by Louisville

or 

an Ohio River Burning Man,

Beer can in hand

To celebrate another step toward 

Building the Big Blue Empire. 


I’ll stand apart,

and watch little Lexington tear itself

asunder

under the anvil-drunk weight of grief

or 

destructive jubilation.

Maybe I’ll join,

so long as they don’t touch the car.

</poem>

Now the ball, appropriately enough, is back in Max’s court.