Internal Pocket

I was Johnny Cash and I had two sons that looked just like me and their mom combined. Later, I was having spghetti dinner at the restaurant and saw their mother through a window. I said we had to leave and my children mentioned their mother discouraged wasting food – said it was bad for the planet. I agreed and did not say anything about veganism.

The Spanish restaurant had this special green sauce that tasted deep, herby, and salty. I saw the guy from the party. Buff arms, tribal tattoos, and the same demeanor as the un-sober guy from Whole Foods. We hugged tightly on an office chair. It was a sweet embrace and I wanted him to leave.

In this open room I discovered my white button down had an internal pocket. This would be good for carrying my passport in summer, without a jacket. I filled the pocket with too many things.


Updates about mundane things in my dreams. This morning I got an email saying to bid soon on a dehydrator. The price had gone from $80 to around $150. Now afternoon, I am at a coffee shop between at-risk youth and incarcerated-youth art-classes. The averagly-cute barrista didn’t charge me the obligatory almond milk fee AND gave me a discount. I figured this into the tip.

I checked email on my cracked phone. The dehydrator I’m watching is ending soon and the current price is $153.

I had several dreams Trippens arrived at work. Last time I asked if this was real or not and was told we won’t get another shipment until spring, but a reorder of Trippen had just arrived. All this practicing to be psychic has paid off. My subconscious can predict that probable things will happen and then they do.

Lately I have been thinking: “What the fuck am I doing, I am such a shit-head.” And “No one else in the world knows what they are doing either.”

Maybe some people do. What really matters is that we’re all killing this planet and each other together. :)


I’ve been stomach in-love. Sleep-deprived. Instead of depressed as biology would dictate, I’m deep contentment and surges of joy. I am a big grassy man. Maybe it’s the placebos I bought from the witch doctor.

I embroidered the ancestral Coyote 101.5 motif, given to me in t shirt form from late-great-uncle Paul, onto my premium-preemie-primo’s newborn quilt square while working the “Your General Store” piece at SITE, and looking smart and hot in my sunglasses. I thought: “It is okay to die.”

Walking as a part of the overexposed afternoon I thought about sex. A woman with blue eye shadow told me about the sales at the consignment store. I didn’t find any slim and high waisted tapered slacks.

Floating in the next store-zone, a supremely cute individual smiled at me and I did a double take – wording I only use because I was at Double Take. I walked around the block and texted Bea about potential pick up lines. She offered: “I was thinking of leaving a missed connection for you but figured it might be more productive to talk to you first.”

The attractive tall and skinny person had long dark hair. I thought about how Hoku was tall and skinny and had long dark hair once. Probably I will fall deeply in love with this stranger or else not see them again.

I ran into a woman at the next consignment store without slim high waisted tapered slacks. She looked at me lovingly and with sad eyes. I said: “Where do I know you from?” She said she was Hoku’s friend. I said I was just thinking about Hoku. We talked about Hoku’s style.

A few days ago I was thinking about how Hoku would like some thing and then I thought: “how would I know?” I don’t want to project things onto dead people, but there’s no other option.

Guess I’ll just continue to project everything onto everything because perception is reality and also holographic.

Pueblo Revival

The man who gave all my friends drugs and then made them pancakes at the last cabin rave shot himself at the cross of the martyrs recently. Whenever I drive down Paseo from work I think about that, and about how downtown in general is loaded with sorrow and nostalgia.

Downtown Santa Fe is also full of Pueblo Revival Architecture: racist originally and racist in replication. I have no place to talk about this racism, considering the ways in which I belong to this landscape, built or otherwise.

I walk around my hometown, where I have sweet jobs, friends and memories, thinking about how I don’t belong here and don’t want to live here.


I am a greasy man
with sunflower armpits
big sun goes down on everyone

We are all at this post-dark party

every text a rejection
post-post persuasion
standing in line for a toilet
blue fairy lights
I am the worst and I mean it.

I want all the boys to be drodgy and shy
I’m dodgy and sly
ill mannered

Always be the worst
Laziest sinner on the beach
on earth

I am too lazy to sin or think critically about sin as a socio-religious construction

I just want the free doughnuts

lol, jk,
I am only serious about not letting you down,
I am only serious about not letting you down.

I will never let you go.

I will live at your expense
I will not live up to my potential as my job.

Dopa Land

Dopa Land is inhabited by people in puffy jackets who bob back and forth.

Dopa Man

Vegan pizza butt

Brush my hair with a toothbrush

I’m not tired

I’m sassy

Not  tired


Drunk my waking hours

- classy

It’s a Big Day Today

IMAG1561I was a centipede for halloween, after seeing the centipede on the floor at Home Depot.

I DJed at Niomi’s group show and drank an excellent almond milk chai. I had priced me drawings at: “A sip of sweet wine and a kiss from a dreamy individual” which she misunderstood to mean: “not for sale.”

My first thought upon seeing Kristen on Halloween was “Katamari!” We snuck a flask of whiskey into one of the objects comprising her costume.

We picked up Tina and navigated seas of top 40/the suspension performance, drinking whiskey sours.

Halloween is the most important holiday for my friends and it showed, and we heard it, and we danced to it.

Tina had to work the next day so I walked her home.

IMG_0068We drank wine out of tiny jars in her apartment, talking about all the things.

Alain came home and I went back to Skylight at 1:30, where I was told I couldn’t come back in. I reminded them that I had built the fog chiller that stood as decoration and had paid their cover.

I waited outside for a time, talking about how Skylight is a ruiner, and snuck past the guard swiftly when he was distracted.

Kristen and I went home and had a good old fashioned sleepover. We had excellent almond milk lattes in the morning and went to the book store.



Scared centipede

Sleeping at home depot

It’s the world

Take care of me or don’t

Bucket full of tiger pee

Everything that’s mine is everyone else’s in the world

Double dream same thing

live on earth with me


I drink greens

what could open me

I’ll say dreams

you’ll say

ha ha ha

Would could break a heart-open

with clear sadness



I’m sorry


unzip my bug costume!


Irene Hoffman, director of SITE Santa Fe introduced me as “II-” (pronounced with a clap) at Spread, where I was DJing. I was tickled.

Bea started a game where we would try to think about any way in which John is not cool.

We talked about the projects of the finalists at Spread. They asked if I had even liked the presentation of one contestant who worked with sound waves. I said I am a sucker for that shit no matter what. I want to take a dip into that sine-wave of interconnected galaxies and continue to be comprised of vibrating matter.

I started a game to think of any way in which I was not narcissistic. Bea said the same game could apply to her. Bea and I are on each other’s equilateral plane of best-friends because we identify with one another’s narcissism (care deeply about each other).