Saturday, January 15, 2022
Thank you for that question.
That’s a great question.
I love that question.
Where do I start? I mean
How do crazy people even know what bus to get on?
You might be wondering,
Will it work for me too?
Will it translate my Twitter presence to the big screen?
What do we tell the kids?
Oh wait. There’s more?
Do couplets have to rhyme?
Which travelcard has the most valuable miles?
Is devotion compatible with non-duality?
Does Michigan get into the top 10 if they win Saturday?
What causes are you passionate about besides the Black Queer experience?
What do you mean?
How did that happen?
Are some silver Kennedy half dollars
Worth more than others?
Do you believe in kicking off your week
With flash savings?
But everybody’s different, wouldn’t you agree?
Do you think Momo would go to the symphony with me?
Do you have any pets?
So before you hit Exit ask yourself:
What is it you enjoy about forklifts?
Why are so many woke
Reading Randy Stark?
Then talk to your doctor to see if it’s right for you.
Friday, January 14, 2022
She was Pfizer.
I was Moderna.
She was a Capoeira queen,
Big ol’ jet eyeliner.
My name’s Teeter.
I taught her tautology.
It simply means
You’re a real sender.
Her hands on the travel sites
Caused me to castle my silverware.
We switched whispers at E-Z-8.
Do what you done last week.
This origami thing she did with her legs.
Need a time stamp to verify but I’m pretty sure
We had moved like past Fiji.
I mean I was like Expeditionary Forces Local 325.
© 2022 Randy Stark
Saturday, January 8, 2022
It takes vassals learning the wrong lessons,
Polluted with skill, perseverance, and savvy,
To optimize dark web monitoring
And be counted among the wealthiest Americans.
Success is the only justification needed.
Any blue-ribbon committee
Can produce a no-hitter
If not a perfect game.
History is written by the unmitigated:
Reckless stay at homes,
And other performative Sabbath breakers.
Brand X threat vectors? No.
But at the same time
All quite dope.
I did the math.
So, get the Fabuloso.
I looked it up.
It speaks to the kind of individual you are,
I can tell you that.
Friday, January 7, 2022
I’m bloated with vengeful ire.
My body eructates refrigerator noises
That have leeched into my food.
There’s mizzle on the lakes
Champlain and Pontchartrain.
My piss is split pee soup.
There are moments where I almost think
It’s not me thinking,
To name just a few.
I am a horse named Vengeful Ire,
Moving up along the rail at 30 to 1,
Like it was the personal care aisle.
Past Soothing Gel and Natural Scent.
Maximum Strength two lengths back.
Fast Powerful Guaranteed.
Like a new wave in pain relief.
Relief you can count on.
Relief from the crippling worries
Of today’s over-scheduled world, where
The last one not to be crossed is the winner.
Saturday, January 1, 2022
I will attack my work like this whenever I’m at the keyboard.
Friday, December 31, 2021
“The end of art is peace.”
Why continue to do this?
As they say in the media: Thank you for that question.
Seriously. I’m thrilled as the writer to know a) someone might have read the piece and b) it might have evoked a reaction (laughter, hopefully), perhaps even a response. I try to provide enough substance to make reading significant, but my DNA is more entertainment oriented than literary. I look at what I’m doing as first entertainment, then literature.
I know what I enjoy, and I write things that I will enjoy. And because I’m no different from billions of other people, I hope some of the potential readers will find a similar enjoyment in what I have written.
The gap between award winners and the short listed is like the gap between what I think I’m posting and what gets pointed out to me later.
I’ve been on a Toshiko Akiyoshi binge, her work with small groups (e.g. the Toshiko trio circa 1955) as well as the iconic, if not transformational, big band she led with Lew Tabackin. Composer and musician, Toshiko swings.
I’ve also been looking at two art styles, or movements, or whatever you want to call them.
The first is California light painting, the Light and Space movement that is mainly attirubted to artists in southern California, maybe from santa Barbara to san Diego, and is generally placed in the time period 1960-1980. The practionarers and artists are many, here’s an overview:
The other movement is more widely known and practiced: surrealism. And I have been using the internet to watch slide show videos of early surrealism by Leonora Carrington, and on the later surrealism used by Helen Lundeberg. I muted the soundtrack on the videos and played my own choices for viewing and contemplation enhancing music, in a recent instance: Stuart Dempster - Underground Overlays From The Cistern Chapel (full album) - YouTube
The magazines I read had me running the trails recently: Clara Schumann (Germany) to Anton Bruckner (Austria); William Kentridge (South Africa) to John Muafangejo (Namibia); ); John Muafangejo - Wikipedia
I also noted these two sour observations:
“In some niche areas, such as literary magazines and graduate schools of education, the idea of merit as separate from identity no longer exists.” (George Packard, Atlantic, July /August 2021)
“…immersive installations that have become museums’ most popular attractions in the last two decades create environments where art is not an object of contemplation but a backdrop for self-actualization, where the collectivity of the museum public breaks down into the individualities of selfie-taking ‘museum users.’ In becoming more ‘democratic and accessible,’ [Janet] Kraynak writes, the museum becomes indistinguishable from other venues of the experience economy, rather than ’an active productive public sphere.’” (from an essay in the Los Angeles Review of Books, by Brian Droitcour)
Closing with the breezy high interplay in Charlie at Full Speed by Anthony Carelli, and then Joan Retallack hits a walk off home run.
© 2021 Randy Stark
Saturday, December 25, 2021
“Surf life every sweet second.”
Saffron and Sage Salon and Massage.
Affordable and practical.
One of the seven superfoods for a better night’s sleep:
World’s best jerky.
Cinnamon trees dreaming in black-market starlight.
Gooseberries dew bathing.
Jacqui, Claudia, Zu.
The lightbulbs that used to go off in people’s heads
Are inefficient anymore.
Check the end to make sure it’s square
And then lop it off.
He put his foot in this one
A day early.
Most profiles on dating sites are fake or predators.
Believe it or not.
A martyred bull reddening the plaza St. Sebastian
Takes me back to Shinjuku.
Heart-shaped koi and sharp-edged lily pads
Make for crimson waters.
A magnificent hot air balloon
Subscription heal thyself.
This shit hits.
© 2021 Randy Stark