Worker Ant #134889 Will Have His Revenge

Glass glows slick
with sweat

pane of crystallized
fire

slash the air
in a thin line
of
inferno
condensed
in two dimensions

skin sizzles
and flesh rises
to meet mercury’s level

the radio plays
summer songs
I scream hymns
for winter

as the car wheel
kisses the inside
of my thighs

Somewhere
all the ants
I burned to death
with my magnifying glass
are laughing at me

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300 Pounds, Waist Size 44

When I take out the trash,
I do it with the tenderness
of the bomb squad.

Arms thrust forward,
the straining overstuffed garbage bag
swings from my fingers
on red straps
that cut into my flesh.

Every step to the dumpster is
calibrated
to ensure that none of the bag’s contents
contaminate me.

I move with the slow grace of a man
strolling through a minefield.
I will not misstep.
Nothing will touch me:
I stand apart from my waste.

When I walk out the door,
without a bag of trash,
I still carry my body
the same way:
At a distance.

In Deafheaven, Everything is Fine

Last night I saw Deafheaven at Crescent Ballroom. How was it? Let me reach into the ol’ bowl of critic buzz words for a sec. Ah, here we go:

Cathartic. Transcendent. Powerful. Raw Power. Fuckin’ Rad.

Yep, that about sums it up.

A few stray observations about last night’s show:

NO HEAVEN FOR FATTIES

They had some amazing looking shirts at their merch booth… but sadly no XXL sizes. Yours truly was out of luck in the concert T department.

MAKING AN ASS OF YOURSELF

There was an assortment of ecstatic, sweaty, thrashy moshers throughout the night. One dude had a unique ragin’ technique I haven’t seen before that I shall dub The Overeager Rentboy (aka The Buttram), in which he would pinball himself through the crowd by bending over and ramming himself ass-first at people in the audience.

TOUCHED BY THE HAND OF GEORGE

George Clarke cut a compelling figure onstage. Dude didn’t have to wear corpse-paint to look intense. He was super-engaged with the crowd, frequently leaning in to the crowd, throwing out high-fives and grabbing people’s hands and giving off a slightly more sane and composed Ian Curtis vibe. I will admit that I felt like a little girl when he gave me a high-five. “He touched me! How cool is that?” I almost shouted that, but then I realized that I was a 32 year old man wearing a bow tie and that would be an absurd thing for me to say.

“THIS GORGEOUS INTERLUDE IS BRUTAL!”

Respect to the moshers who were so committed to raging that they were even wrecking shit during the ambient interludes.

METAL MILHOUSES

A lot of folks at the show who looked like this.

COME BACK

I doubt I’ll hear a more beautiful and moving piece of live music this year than the last few minutes of “Come Back”. The best way I can describe it was like spending time running through a dark forest, banging head first into hard trees and being cut by sharp branches, pursued by some nameless sweaty monster and then suddenly emerging into a wide open clearing bathed in golden light. Those last few minutes were that golden clearing. I wish I was back there now.

 

Mr. Burns, a post-electric play

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Space 55 opened our 9th season by doing an AZ premiere of Anne Washburn’s “Mr. Burns, a post-electric play”, a fascinating post-apocalyptic meditation on pop culture, community building, myth-making and oral storytelling (if you haven’t seen it: the basic premise is that in a post-apocalyptic world a group of survivors pass the time by re-enacting old episodes of “The Simpsons” that they vaguely remember, and how over time a new society gets built around traveling troupes doing live “reruns” of old shows). The play was directed by Charlie Steak, and it was hands-down one of the boldest, strangest and strongest shows our theater has ever put on. And I’m not alone in that opinion: we got some pretty strong reviews. 🙂

I’ll always look back fondly on it, too, because it was the show where I realized that “hey, I’m actually not bad at this art thing”. While I was drawing the Burns sign in our lobby, “Mr. Burns” actress Lee Quarrie came in, took one look at it and said “I wish I could draw like that.” To which I mumbled, with all sincerity, “me too”.

“Mama, We’re All Okilly Dokilly Now”: The Simpsons, Music And Donuts at The Trunk Space

Last Saturday Phoenix’s premier (and only) Ned Flanders heavy “nedal” group Okilly Dokilly had their first ever show at The Trunk Space. Yours truly was there as part of the Springfield Elementary School Carnival happening in the Trunk’s back-lot. There was bowling, trivia, caricature drawing, three card monty, donuts and fortune-telling (done by yours truly and Ernesto Moncada).

The show was crazy packed! The last time I saw the Trunk THAT packed was when Lightning Bolt came to town and gave us all tinnitus. The audience seemed really into it, and fun was had by all. Here are some photos from that fan-diddly-tastic evening: the uncredited photos are my own; the other pictures are sourced from Flim Springfield and Phoenix New Times’ coverage of the event. If you’re a local and you missed it, fear not: The Neds will be slapping us all with their Left Hand of Darkness at The Rebel Lounge on Sept. 25th.

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Photo courtesy of Flim Springfield

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Yours truly manning the fortune-telling table (photo by Flim Springfield)
Yours truly manning the fortune-telling table (photo by Flim Springfield)
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YOU are the face of Demon Ned (Flim Springfield photo)
Photo by Frank Cordova
The Fortune Teller divining your future from the palm of your hand (Photo by Frank Cordova)
Russ Kazmierczak Jr. doing caricatures at the carnival (photo by Frank Cordova)
Russ Kazmierczak Jr. doing caricatures at the carnival (photo by Frank Cordova)
Caricature of yours truly by Russ.
Caricature of yours truly by Russ.
The Leftorium merch booth (photo by Frank Cordova)
The Leftorium merch booth (photo by Frank Cordova)
The Simpsons Trivia table (photo by Frank Cordova)
The Simpsons Trivia table (photo by Frank Cordova)
BOWLING. (Photo by Frank Cordova)
BOWLING. (Photo by Frank Cordova)
(Photo by Flim Springfield)
(Photo by Flim Springfield)
That sign wasn't kidding: 'TWAS PACKED! (Photo by Frank Cordova)
That sign wasn’t kidding: ‘TWAS PACKED! (Photo by Frank Cordova)
Andy Warpigs (photo by Frank Cordova)
Hug of War (Photo by Frank Cordova)
Hug of War (Photo by Frank Cordova)
MAN-CAT (photo by Frank Cordova)
MAN-CAT (photo by Frank Cordova)
The Neds chilling outside Moe's (Photo by Frank Cordova)
The Neds chilling outside Moe’s (Photo by Frank Cordova)
Okilly Dokilly raging nedal style (Photo by Frank Cordova)
Okilly Dokilly raging nedal style (Photo by Frank Cordova)

And if you want more warped “Simpsons” goodness, check out these Sharpie and chalk drawings I did last week.