gallery
78 works of art now
presented for the first time in America
1. Gallery
2. Tom Miller
3. March 15, 1996 FRED Ink
Productions
4. Gallery
5. Lady, carrying a
sandwich to her dying mother, knows she must get there soon or the
old biddy will croak, peanut butter gum up her dental work and
then blammo!
6. Grill, heating up good,
for the cooking soon to come, daddy gets the steak knife and begin
to sharpen the blade, bleeding meat sitting there in a pan, used
to be a cow.
7. Africa, place I never
been, not sure what this has to do with the lady or the
grill.
8. Montage of collective
thoughts pouring out of me like an oil pan, masturbating on the
word processor, what a thing to do in the middle of the afternoon,
my fruit punch in a cup.
9. Sunglasses give me a
headache and looking at this thing is making me sick, wish i had a
beach to fall asleep on.
10. Bird, peering out over
the nest, looking at a bug making its way across the hot sidewalk,
bug doesn't make it... too hot.
11. Nine different times I
had to run over that cat.
12. Never know who might
be listening in to private conversations, and when they find out
the dirty little secrets, they share them with the press, good-bye
life, hello asshole.
13. I have never seen a
white gorilla.
14. Forty men sailing on
that ship and Captain McArtsy shouts aloud, "Argh matey... argh
and abast ye scallywags!" His parrot repeats this and the men
scratch their heads, accidentally steer the barge on to a sand
bar.
15. Rocket ship floating
in an elliptical rotation about the planet mars, and the monkey
inside is throwing shit at the walls.
16. Bird swoops down and
eats herself a crispy beetle.
17. Meanwhile, at Our Lady
of the Infernal Dog on a Stick, Sister Mary Mo Mo Ma shouts at the
children, smacking their hands with a ruler if they refuse to sing
the ABC song correctly. What a bitch!
18. Larry married Barry, a
bum who enjoyed strawberries, in this town a rarity for the town
had so little rain it was almost scary, Lary was smooth but Barry
was hairy and both were fairies... Larry Barry bum Barry tiala go
Hairy Scary... fee fi fo ferry...
19. Fish seem all right to
me, what do you think? Are fish OK with you? And while we're at
it, are they appropriate? Well? Are they?
20. I stop for a moment
and wonder at the glory and the wonder of it all and how it makes
me wonder, and I wonder at the wonder of the glory and the glory
of the wonder and think how wonderful to be able to wonder at the
glory and the wonder.
21. I have stepped on
something. I heard it pop. It lies beneath my boot heel. I don't
want to know what it is, because if it is some small unfortunate
animal, I would carry that guilt with me. Of course, it might just
be a seed pod or a piece of broken glass, but I just can not bring
myself to look because I am just not sure. And this fear of the
unknown leaves me standing here, unable to continue my journey
into the unknown for unknown reasons.
22. The frame shop: Hello
mister, I wonder if you could frame this for me. What I have here
is a goose, and I need it framed for dinner. The proprietor shoots
me and tapes the gun to the goose's foot.
23. She was the perfect
date. So round... so juicy... I bit in to her and savored her
unique flavor.
24. Me Ernie 4; the fourth
in the "Me Ernie" Trilogy
25. I got a rock. It don't
like me. I know, because I asked it and it don't talk to me.
Stupid old rock, it not smart like I are. And i should know; I
asked it and it don't talk to me. I so mad I punch it with my
fist. Ow. I hurt my fist.
26. Cookies...
27. The refrigerator is
humming a very monotonous sounding tune. It begins on C sharp and
continues ad infinitum. No teture, no melody, no dynamics, just C
sharp droning on and on and on. Brilliant really when you think
about it. Nobody has written such a piece before. Brahams,
Beethoven, Bach, and my refrigerator; pure genius!
28. Pandas seem cute, but
actually they can tear your flesh off and rip out your shit if
they want to. Pandas smell like menthol because they eat
eucalyptus leaves all day long, a seemingly innocent pastime, In
reality, they are becoming stoned to prevent themselves from
chewing your screaming skull.
29. Look at yourself in
the morror. Look at your eyes, sunken and sagging. You're getting
old, older every day. What are you going to do about that?
Nothing, you mother fucker. You are helpless. Whithering,
shrinking, sinking, back to the dirt from whence you came. Forces
are at work beyond your control. Me too, and you along with me,
back to the grave where it all started so many years ago. Sonn
enough you'll know... you'll know. Think about it now while you
have a moment, and then break that unforgiving glass with your
fist. Break it, smash it, kill it, liquid mercury pours over you
eating your flesh and your empty skeleton collapses into a pile of
useless bones.
30. I miss the jazz,
fingers striking the piano with reckless abandon, forming the
image of the old masters, dancing like shadow ghosts through the
bar, each with a whore and a mouth full of whiskey, screaming
saxophones soothed by the pumping of the stand-up bass, caressed
and slapped awake by the drums, and pointed out and laughed at by
the trumpet, served to patrons who eat with their ears and digest
the memory, forever etched into the storage banks of eternity and
infinite everything...
31. Hey buddy... would you
like to put some powder in your nose?
32. No, that stuff is for
losers.
33. Perhaps you might like
to stick this needle into a vein in your arm and inject this
liquid into your blood stream for a real nice high.
34. Naw, I don't want to
get hooked and forget how to breathe.
35. Would you like a
ticket to the Wizard of Oz? Just put it on your tongue and let the
chemicals take you for a magic carpet ride.
36. Really dude, I think
you should leave. Mother told me about you.
37. What are you, man?
Chicken? Are you chicken?
38. Don't say that.
Anything but that.
39. Are you chicken, man?
You're chicken, aren't you.
40. Afternoon, riding in
the sun, my face flecked away by the birds, hungry birds riding a
screaming coat of metal stretched between my teeth. Howdy partner,
ain't you the last thing i been looking for? Sure I am, you silly
ball of butter, you shit your last brick this time. How many
wantons are you going to eat, you pig. Pic, let me tell you
something. Your snout is wet and disgusting. I can not be seen in
a restaurant of this caliber with your wet snout snot sticking out
like that. You got mud dripping out of your face. That's the last
time I take a pig to the Le Dinaar So Propaar again! She storms
out of the restaurant and into the sea where squids hug her a
little too tightly. She informs them of her discomfort and they
swim away. Well, they were nice afterall, but them suckers were
leaving spots on my back and if Harry finds out I've been here at
the bottom of the sea having nefarious dealings with squids i
don't even know, he might retaliate by jumping into the lion cage
at the zoo. Harry would but his head in its mouth, I know he
would. If i know anything, I know Harry.
41.
Meanwhile...
42. Several yards of yarn
magically unrolled encircling the globe one hundred and fifty
times. It was said this hadn't happened in so many years, but the
experts had cautioned it looked ready to roll. God works in
mysterious ways. Anyhoo, the yarn keeps unfurling and unfurling
and begins to wrap itself into sophisticated knots. Weeks later,
fabric begins to form, but the anarchists wouldn't hear of this.
With scissors, they begin to snip away at specific strands so as
to cause as much damage to the pattern as they possibly could. Are
we just going to stand here and become coats? They would debate
the purpose of material for some time. Sure enough, their
subversive tactics were beginning to have an effect. The pockets
began to develop holes and everything valuable that had been
stored in them fell out and could not be found. The squids knew
where the valuables were, for they had fallen to the bottom of the
sea, and they gathered them up to present to her, knowing full
well that she could be purchased from Harry for the right price.
He didn't love her, the squids reasoned, and furthermore, he had
no suckers. He was a sucker. She obligingly accepted the gifts and
gave Harry the boot. He didn't care, as drunk as he was. Bastard
man, stereotypical monkey pig stinking man! The calm cool waters
soothed her aching wounds and the squids nursed her to health.
Soon they were spraying ink throughout the whole ocean and nobody
knew what was going on. I knew. They were hugging her ever so
tightly and letting her know she was a part of the fabric of
everything there ever was, is, and ever will be. She lives forever
in the memory of moments and squids will be with her always.
Comforted in this assuring if not utterly peculiar thought, she
invited them to dinner at the Le Dinaar So Propaar and ate them
over angel hair pasta and a sprinkling of fresh grated parmesan
cheese. Now she was satisfied. No wantons, no pigs, no silly balls
of butter, indeed she had shit her last brick.
43. And me?
44. Still searching,
forever on the path to the end of it all. Still making cuts in the
fabric of the universe. Still riding in the sun, my face flecked
away by the birds, hungry birds riding a screaming coat of metal
stretched between my teeth. Howdy partner, ain't you the last
thing I been looking for?
45. This is lonely. This
is something I have to do. Cold in here. I can remember when we
held each other with no expectations. We were there so fully
together, involved... and you had many names, many faces,
sometimes you were a man or a woman, and sometimes you were myself
looking back at me... strange. This life thing has me left with
nothing to do but this, and as I said before, this is
lonely.
46. Dog in
trouble
47. Saw his
double
48. Barked so
loud
49. He got in
trouble
50. Neighbor
came
51. And had a
gun
52. If I knew how to
finish this poem with a rhyming and snappy finish, I would
certainly do so
53. Grandma exploded,
that's not the way we thought she'd go out, and now only the
tabloids left to write the story, and they made up so many lies
when the truth would have sufficed. Peanut butter
everywhere.
54. That's my burger.
Daddy makes it for me, rare just like I like it. Pink on the
inside and dripping with joice. This thing used to give
milk.
55. Uganda, land of
nothing to do with Grandma or a burger.
56. So here I am thinking
again. Why do I sit here and continue this so called work. It is
all bullshit and masterpiecing.
57. Aspirin, please God,
aspirin. My splitting headache is causing me to produce the
written form of pure and unadulterated pain.
58. Back in the nest, the
bird is warming an egg with its bottom. Sitting on it and waiting
so ever patiently for the miracle of birth. Soon, a cracking of
shell is heard and from out of the breaking cell, a squid appears.
This is not right, the bird thinks to itself, but I still love
it.
59. I'm glad I killed it
and I'll kill it again if I have to.
60. Somebody is looking at
me. I feel it. It is frightening me. There are cameras in the
ceiling painted to look like the ceiling. These cameras are
recording my activities. I have no privacy and the fear consumes
me.
61. I have never seen a
rhinoceros mating with a white gorilla.
62. "The plank for the lot
of you, aye! Argh and Yo Ho, I send ye to a watery grave ye scurvy
dogs!" said Captian McArtsy to the crew of the Galley Sea Scag.
The men talked among themselves and selected the smartest shipmate
they could find to explain the problem. "You see, sir..." Roberto
Valensuego, Ph.D. Said, "We are experiencing some difficulty
understanding your use of pirate slang. Perhaps if you made use of
the King's English, we might better be able to perceive the
meaning behind your rhetoric." Captain McArtsy, eyes bulging at
the audacity of the conundrum shouted, "Mutiny, eh? Well I'll be
skittle butt and Argh on the Missen Mast and Into the Brig with
the lot of you Arghy Bargy Argh Argh!" McArtsy's parrot repeated
the dialogue although he was even more at a loss to understand it
then the understandably frustrated crew.
63. The monkey, peering
out the rocket ship window at the red planet Mars points and
exclaims, "Eep eep eep," which loosely translated means, "Orange.
Orange. Orange."
64. Meanwhile, at the Ding
Dong Bible De Boo Circus, the lion tamer was in a precarious
situation. Everyone was on the edge of their seats to observe the
act in ring number two, and lion tamer Fred, whip and chair in
hand, surprised by the biggest lion of all who was standing on two
legs and holding a gun.
65. Little girl is
finger-painting a picture of her dog, Rex. She dips her fingers in
the pink, and then the green, and rubs it around the page until
she has made a blob. "Rex," she exclaims while pointing at the
blob. "What have you there, my darling?" her father asks. "Rex,"
she replies. "Well honey, that's not very good. It looks like a
pink and green blob. You have all the talent of a bucket of shit,
you worthless mutant. Now try again and get it right this time, or
I'll put monsters under your bed." The little girl cries. In
sixty-five attempts so far, all she has produced is a pink and
green blob.
66. Cookies
are...
67. Candidate R-9 delivers
a scathing speech aimed at the heart of the opponent, Mayor
Bulldog. Waste waste waste, money money money, waste mismanagement
abuse, promises promises promises, taxes taxes taxes. Bulldog
fires back with a mass mailout and expensive advertising. Build
build build, buy buy buy, growth growth growth, urban sprawl urban
sprawl urban sprawl. R-9 thinks Bulldog dows not livat his
designated residence. Subversives mail scandalous letter accusing
Bulldog of shitting in the neighbor's yard. Vicious and malicious
and oh so delicious, scandalous. The newspapers can't get enough.
Who wrote the letter? There is going to be an investigation.
Bulldog buys an ad on TV. The Mayor, on a horse, he's a family man
with traditional Jesus values. Oppress the blacks and the gays.
More military hardware for the police department. Bigger
buildings, grease the palms of the developers, pave the wetlands!
His platform quite intoxicating to the ten percent of the voters
owning ninety percent of the wealth. Will R-9 voters be asleep on
election day or will they vote? Will Bulldog pay enough money to
hired thugs and rig the election, or will the mystery letter
writer bomb city hall. Tune in next week for the exciting
conclusion!
68. This line of text
indicates what it is to the reader.
69. All but four turtles
made it back into the sea that day. Fewer and fewer were hatching
due to global warming, increased pollution, and the merciless egg
snatchers who dine delicately on the rare treat of turtle eggs.
Run! Turtles supportively shout to each other as they sort of
clumsily amble along. Hurry! We might make it alive! A guy in a
jeep runs them down. He and his girlfriend, Stella May, park along
the shore and watch the sunset. Then he makes his move. "So," he
says, "Would you care to perform sexual intercourse, or would you
rather continue the act of foreplay to help stimulate the
lubrication of your vagina?" He has already unzipped unbeknownst
to her and his penis is shouting out through the opening. She
raises her dress revealing her vagina which is quivering with
anticipation. His penis is throbbing up and down. When they
connesct, and he puts his penis into her vagina, she embraces him
and performs. He also performs. They were performing together and
groaning to increase the excitement. "I think I am about to
ejaculate." She performs harder. "That is good. I hope before you
ejaculate, you allow me the opportunity to produce an orgasm." He
lurches his back, throws back his head, and says, "Yeah yeah yeah
baby, yeah." She looks at him angrily. "Brad, I am very upset. You
have ejaculated and yet I have not produced an orgasm. Maybe it's
because your penis is not reaching my G-spot." Brad laughes at her
and says, "There's no such thing as a G-spot." Then he says,
"Besides, my penis doesn't need you to orgasm. It needs me to
orgasm. You go have a talk with your vagina and we'll try again
tomorrow. Right now, I feel like sleeping." They drove
away.
70. Four turtles lay
dead.
71. What does it mean,
daddy? What is the connection between the clinical diatribe on
sexuality and the turtles?
72. Honey, just paint the
dog and quit trying to read into everything.
73. Hark I hear the angels
fall
74. Upon the forest
floor
75. Wings and harps doth
broken off
76. And were I a poet I
would have ended this much better than it appears I
have.
77. Gallery is closed.
Inside through the window, I see paintings and sculpture, things
an artist made with his hands. Shiny things. Things that attract
the attention of fish. Lonely things, like the porcelain doll
gathering dust in the corner of a display case. Wood, shaped into
round smooth structures, and clay molded into various forms and
textures. I want to go inside and touch everything with my
fingers. I want to feel it and taste it. Why am I out here when
all the creativity is locked inside this little room? I think
about breaking the glass window separating me from art. I think
that if I break the glass, I can step inside and merge with it
all. But there are dangers. I could be cut deeply, so deeply, no
way to stop the bleeding. Life is like that though. Life is
dangerous. In fact, life is deadly every time. So why not break
through to the gallery and study the pictures, moments in time
held in paint and clay, wood and stone. Why not break through to
the gallery where art asks you to see it for what it is. I want to
talk to that porcelain doll and find out why it sits alone in the
display case. Where did it come from. How did it get here. It is
looking at me and it wants me to come inside. It wants me to touch
and hold it lovingly in my arms, a touch of humanity and
compassion so needed by all things made lonely. Gallery is closed.
I can imagine a child taking that porcelain doll to imaginary tea,
and the conversations would be glorious and wonderful. I could
listen in, smile and laugh at secret whispers, dream of dreams of
dreams. This wall separating us seems so fragile, like water, I
could pass through and touch you, if you help me understand. This
wall keeps me out but lets me see in. In to where she sits alone
in the display case, looking out over the handmade pictures of
pictures of pictures. I must break free. I must break free. I must
break free. Gallery is closed. She needs me. I love her. I break
that unforgiving glass with my fist. Break it, smash it, kill it,
loquid mercury pours over me eating my flesh and my empty skeleton
collapses into a pile of useless bones.
78. Gallery is
closed.