Friday 31 July 2009

MICHAEL JACKSON PUPPY DRAWINGS OPEN SATURDAY AROUND NOON
North Dekalb Mall In Decatur









.

Thursday 30 July 2009

michael(the bottom image was made by eggtooth. the others were by michael jackson-using eggtooth as a host.)
i tried to put that info in the comments,but apparently i or michael broke the comment thing. it makes me want to cry. i have tried to fix it. i want to say dirty words.
feel free to e-mail your comments to:
flappityflap@gmail.com
or
eggtoothjeff@yahoo.com
or
jeffhafe@hotmail.com


having odd reaction to this seemingly benign and benevolent experience. mj comes and goes as he pleases now. woke up in park holding flowers for someone. had a pocket full of arcade tokens.
zombie flavored fun dips and yellow raincoats. moses fishing on an ark. a roller coaster on my coffee table. and gold melted in the bathroom sink. hip to things. and secretive wishes for kicking the can. the deepest part changed all the colors of the rainbow. speaking in foreign tongues in foreign religious outfits. raw food. scary monsters in my closet and watching the same movie over and over. i don't like music.





BLUEBERRY PIE.
welcome to fluid. the spruce is drier. candor isn't vapid. labia draped goldar and silvar. tragic dragon panties. lice on artnews. fun crunch in bones. ripped system for gummy. chewed loose window washer. xylophone homer pork barrel. blunt money dorf sight see. massive lamp. ice cubed tumor no way. boring war fish derision. laughter linoleum and laguna beach.play dough. handsome thunder. inspite hospice police spiders. moaning on father. ladder mobius wasp swing.

रीडर grease


Throat pony gallops towards politics and unemployment.
The weighted knee bent in submission,scuffed and without effort
emotive denial of a goal,wanting admiration to guffaw.
Salad daze no more a church going child sliced by humanity
languid babble into the mountains, a sour apple and bag of maple leaves.

Dancing spoo moaning chlorine pinky hydroxy clobber cobblestone.
Attention to purity and an ache elsewhere. Tantrums panic the last
answer into a wishbone,a dog leg, a horse shoe, Mr. caughtie aire.


Flavored meandering clowns soften the madness in
pages of books blurred and glued together.
Infinite mosquito christmas mold unravels a tumbling octopus.
Sanitary chapped rocking chair splinter
and the cold hummingbird.
Pay broken splints and shims for oil changes.
I'm not running for president
I'm running for Priest- a studied desire until rabies night.

Confounded mandibles chamber up a magazine racket
no balls. Anger gnaws and insists with a smile.
Dribble rips letters and sends them electric kisses.
Lay back and forget and plow forth the sun burns the crops.
The bugs type red marks on the face of it all.
The health insurance lingo blur,the hatred dejects with necessity.

Sleeping: angst yellow coats and angled wires of phlegm.
Boisterous loch like drudge and army police on the skull of blankets.
Sympathy delivered on successful moth flames,a sinister double joint.
He stabbed himself in the back.

Friends play conversation in the air. Sick defy lie bare's eons of truths
Tooth's poop. Luminous candy graveyard. And mountain lions for cartoons.
Balanced wicker ship in the pacific cringes for old photographs.
Leg hurts in the down below clinking chains of a short life.
A lollipop monster fireman poster before dinner time.
A shelf for trophies and disease.
Happy smells of the ocean breathing all night. Gone from
rotting bottoms in family huts for cumbersome damaged passive
lumbering stumbled clod hopping shamble pants stagger trip and slump.

Show me apathy.

...timer slogs up. then down..a slow build and internal tension,then release.
and again.forward emotion.looks backwards.
hairy swing (and credit cards.)
burp baby burp. lap dance.
five dollars...

Polar bears in the winter.wear sticky glasses.
crumbs on the floor. punched in late. fill it to the rim.
crooked as a dog's dick. a santa claus soap dispenser.
broken tooth peace. bent tree.new mexico.

alone tonal bathrobe coasts thru a choo choo and blues news for tremors
cannisters of answers and mammograms. the planet tilts in sequence and sequins.
applicades bannisters and barn yard worms for scoliosis. throw up gloss and wallpaper removal in a coal miners shovel for three toed movie stars.

point less.
pray more.

Tuesday 28 July 2009

EGGTOOTH DRAWS PUPPIES as MJ

To be displayed at North Dekalb Mall
(Guerilla style)
Eggtooth channels the dead King of Pop.
Direct transfers of his perspective on puppies using only crayons and
notebook paper.

Show opens this week. Unspecified date or running time.












The artist known as Eggtooth became a conduit for the soul of Michael Jackson - and channeled what appear to be the dead King of Pop's pure child-like intentions. Anonymous reports indicate a playful mood filled the air as the crayon drawings took place.

"It seemed happy,innocent,and without point",said Eggtooth. The suggestion at this time was that this session of puppy image creation held the same regard for purpose and pleasure as any child would for a time spent drawing.

The artist,visibly exhausted by the 2 hour long spiritual transference, conceded with an excited and wary eye that, "there would be more to come". He still intends to randomly display the works at North Dekalb Mall in Decatur,Georgia.

When asked if he would be able to speak as Michael,receive questions,he firmly declined this opportunity. Eggtooth stated with an almost grave hostility that this time was going to be for Michael.

Presently no interpretation of the pieces is available. Michael is said to have created 9 pieces,allowing 7 of them to be made available for preview via Eggtooth's blog.
With no analysis or critical examination presently conducted, curiousity is expected to mount.

What could The King of Pop be trying to tell us?

Saturday 25 July 2009

below.

a crummy drawing/picture i did because a friend had me sitting still with pens and other paints and papers in front of me. we tried to watch a zombie movie called "otto"...but it was ..uuum. not very good.

the text above the drawing was from trying something out. i wrote the word: HELLO.
then i spelled the sound of the letter out phoenetically in spelling the word HELLO.

so i got something like this the first go at "hello"

aych ee elle elle oh.

i then applied the same rule to that sentence. (is this some ouilpo constraint type stuff,or what? i'm sure it's been done before...of course,but i suppose the fun in it is each person's different phoenetic idea of the sound of saying a letter. then spelling that.

so after i wrote :aych ee elle elle oh...i applied the same rule to that-....only if you look at the picture..i screwed it up!

i think it should be:
aye why see aych ee ee ee elle elle ee elle elle ee oh aych

then...do it again.
(ugh)
aye why ee double you aych why es ee ee aye why see aych ee ee ee ee ee ee ee elle elle ee ee elle elle ee ee ee ee elle elle ee ee elle elle ee ee ee oh aych aye why see aych...
i think thats right...you check it,but it should keep going forever, of course.



the next picture below is a detail from an image by will kay..now showing in a gallery in Atlanta called emily amy gallery.
the group show consisted of a seemingly random sampling of what were described as emerging and local artists.
it got lots of coverage.
that was a problem.
i wish i could honestly say, "im not sure why".
this kind of thing happens in Atlanta a great deal.
it's a kind of unfortunate cycle.
i dream of a way to break the cycle.
it can be done.
i would like to see many atlanta galleries blend into and find success invisibly in an environment of important art.
local writers need to become critics and define that environment- by either clearly compartmentalizing this common calibre of coverage away from other more important works-or simply ignoring them.

the next two images are of art stuck on the side of a dumpster and art done all over a garbage can.



Friday 24 July 2009














BAREFOOT. THE FRONT PORCH CLAWED SCREENI PEEK THROUGH. CAREFUL TIPTOES
FOR SPLINTERS.
YOUR YARD UNDER THE APPLE TREE,UNPROTECTED FROM CROW'S FEET. AND
THE SWITCH RING THE MASON JAR FOR THE MARBLES YOU TOLD ME NOT TO LOSE.
THE UNOPENED LID.
GRAVEL RUMBLES UP THE ROAD SLOW GRIND AND AN ENGINE SOFTLY
SILENCED INTO THE GRASS. CAR DOOR OPENS.
YOU GET OUT IN YOUR SUNDAY DRESS. AN ADULT SMILE THAT NOW I
KNOW. TILTED BLUR INTO PREOCCUPATIONS. BLUE SKIES AN EVERYDAY
SUNNY DAY THAT CAN'T MAKE YOU STOP. UNLESS WE GIVE IT A NAME,
LIKE MOTHER'S DAY.
SIMPLE TIMES SYMBOLS OF THE TIMES NINETEEN 30 OR 1989. AS HIGH
TO YOUR KNEE AND THE DOOR OPENS WITH A CREAK BY MY OWN LITTLE
CAREFUL FINGERS, I STRUGGLE TO OPEN. IT OPENS. BUT BARELY
ENOUGH I PUSH MY HEAD OUT
KERKLAP! BEHIND ME. STANDING I SEE MYSELF. A LITTLE SHADOW. AND
BEYOND COMING TOWARDS ME A GREAT BIG SMILE IN THE OPEN SUNNY
YARD,AND I FEEL MYSELF SMILE ALMOST TO A GIGGLE WITH LOVE. THE
COMFORT. SCOOPED UP AND ASKED QUESTIONS. ARMS WRAPPED SO
OPEN,WITHOUT QUESTION AROUND HER NECK.

Thursday 23 July 2009

Monday 20 July 2009




star. ...star.

(.............)
sigh breath smash bottle crash
im over here. what's happenng to me.
i cant tell you. kiss.
clouds.
i am.

Once upon a time.
(In ill mannered postings about poetry.)
What happened? Let's act like friends. Let's talk.
Look at me. I'm tired.
Things I wouldn't understand.
You can take care of everything.

(The shore and the sea and the woosh and the screech.)
The sigh apathy tiresome impatient looking to see.
something.
i cant do it, i was meant for something
else..


You just gave me an electric skeleton..with meat thoughts draped on it.
altho i would like an Amorphophallus titanum
i would carry it with me to random street corners and climb it.
and screen movies on the side of it.
and let kids spray paint throw ups on it.
and i wld sing poems to it.
telling stories about art that happened in atlanta.
i wld plug it into the internet and give it kisses.
and if it tried to stab me with a knife,i'd stab it with a sewing needle.
and if wood peckers climbed on it,i'd photograph them
and if rural poets busted conceptual black walnuts in gravel driveways
id eat them.
and if anybody meant anything
i'd buy them.

Saturday 18 July 2009


DEATH IS OUT OF CONTEXT.
i must be missing
something here.

Hello. My Name is Jeff Dahlgren.

**strangefruitcake.
I'm liking this
more & more.
Even the title. Very
southern. Very necessary.

Only I'm not so sure about
The location.

For something like this I need a place
that curates artists who give us their Entire Vision..not "just enough".
enough to what?
Just enough to...oh! oopsie daisy! -ALREADY have foulness smeared across its surface,separating us from the experience-telling us the place is not about art or meaning,or saying something,or taking chances,or exploring themselves or other possibilities...but what? ooooh...it's just a STORE. it's not art. it's pretty.

would you guys like
a commercial break in this..this post is an e-mail..okay.
this post is a poem)
choose geico..it could buy you a banner in the sky and one on the side of a rollercoaster.

highs in the 90's today.
chances of traffic.

But hey..that's Atlanta for you...who cares?
Were you looking for meaning?
Forget that.
oh,but it doesn't matter...who will remember 6 months from now anyways? As you were. Let's continue the charade of hanging our own pretend strange fruit on our pretend meaningful white walls.

Indoctrinating future artists(and zero ..ahem..patrons)
into the same delusion of
wanting to impress the proper etiquette
of the nobody that's watching. and then "we" (sometimes... if lucky!) write and publish empty meaningless mirrors about that- and slap each other on the back.shall we dance.
let's get together in important rooms
and ask to redistribute money amongst
our closed circuit of selves...fine..maybe something good will happen..


This just in ! bruce hornsby and the range live at lakewood honoring dead honest news reporters.
turn to page 13 if you are interested in art
turn to page 5 if you are into hip hop or nascar.

Artist paints a tacky veneer on something that's already tacky and out of place.and calls it art. finger lickin good is right. as worthy of vomiting in as the bucket it came out of.(atl being the bucket,i guess) hey everybody.

lets do a show including racism as a theme
and then use oh so cute colors and just the
cutest little readymade ideas you evuh seen.
i dee-clare.

hey. coffee mugs with curly stool handles and splatter t-shirts after im dead.
but not while im alive.
strangefruitcake .
im dying painfully for this,people.
just like the south's favorite first performance artist.
JC.
the origin of hate for humankind-weakness-masquerading as compassion and forgiveness.

"bless your heart" bare with me my purple fuzzy cantaloupes.
the origin of meaning turned into money.the mudskipper of broken lp's. the origin of a long history of validating supposedly purifying murder.starting with using the disgusting standardized method of nailing some babbling a-hole-hide-n seek-messenger of "god" politician to a tree. and then selling that rot across time,culture, and races to a point of contradiction that is hilarious.

smile! you're on candid e-mail!
you're a poem.

but.(sigh)death was necessary. if yr gonna give..as an artist...give it all. in hopes of maybe doing something that means something for what?for who? eternal souls?....uh huh.

speaking of uh huh. al copeland stole from his ex-wife's momma her recipe for cajun chicken. this is just an email...the sad thing is somebody publicly killing themselves is just about what this eat more chicken art scene needs.
maybe using the front lawn of the High would do. write something sexy about that cathy. that is,unless yr ..chicken.


**Of course everything i have just written here is a performative reaity. it isnt art. you are. the typos are proof (wnk!). Print this out and i will sign it for you for $50.00 (plus sales tax.) i also offer insurance on the piece for 14.99,which gives you a free extra signature from me.i will even write a review of your receiving the signed piece- as art-and sign that as well for the low low cost of 10.99. photographs taken of this will be submitted to acp for a meaningful exhibition of wheatpaste nightmares.

മൈ ഇന്റര്നെറ്റ് യു വൌല്ദ് ഗെറ്റ് ഇന്‍ ദി WAY


MY INTERNET YOU WOULD GET IN THE WAY.

Bambi's eyes saw a mother in the rain.Death for children is yucky.
And i-i forgot my chemistry book. So I don't understand certain things.

sound: Hey Jerk,speed kills. I hate a guy with a car and no sense of humor.
memory sound:There's a dead cat in your back yard you have to bury. I just wrap em' up in a Plastic bag and throw em' in the garbage.
now sound: The sound of leaves and woodpeckers.
inside sound:What are you doing right now? Watching halloween.
Anxious music on a pretty sunny day.
The sound of keyboard clicking and a box fan whirring.
repeat.


chorus: I thought you outgrew superstition. Nothing really seems to happen because it's so quiet and pretty all day. But people get murdered. I had to fix a typo.

I had to fix a typo. My coffee got cold in the south. I am in Atlanta. I am in Stone Mountain. The bank is going to take this house.

I like traffic and wild lettuce that blooms in July thru september.
I like my friends. There's a desperation to this.
What are different ways to mean something?

Thursday 16 July 2009

മോര്‍ bull


tingle wrangled flip off a repeating sound,kick it in
denial holds back ...
cry's person? who cries.
tingled cant see swelling in my chest for voiceness less than
this life ever
empty now. a sneaky ant climbing up my leg.
patterns monotone a meaning shared for what who?
late as it is. say those sounds that i laugh inside and freely react to.
laughter together til fingers braided. answers me.
a sneaky thought hugs me and stresses my spine. my lines lie in half. my own.
emotive cold razor.
well...i used to get into church. so i cant really shake the martyr complex..to me.it's better than facing challenges,simply say you're better. based on some over elaborated vague moral principle verbal masturbatory well partially read regurgitations of non-sequitors that sound good enough at the time.
or deny them with tears or anger or deluded mind altered stupors.
smile like an old 50's show's hair parted child. her wife.
sleep in a muddy crooked sideways gagging nightmare.
and wake up rotten. dried robot. unmotivated and not even able to be jaded.
a hug might help.
or giving something to somebody when they dont expect or deserve.

൬ ട്രടിറേനാല്‍ കിസ്സെസ്....


traditional kisses
a traditional poem
inspired from traditonal united states
county highschool systems
exposure.


in a blissful in a mixture,sweat and breath and then i kissed her
telling heat the smell so sweet,a must an urge a purge between-
between two kisses three ellipses,in my mistress a rigid stiffness
so consume me a blossoming knew me,a growth to touch me, a gentleness
roughens me...me and meaning,lost and dreaming, physically steaming
a fine mist screaming,fingernails gleaming. taste her long neck energetic, our beats next we click in naked around me holds me a voice that sounds me,sounds us believing wake up thinking a remembered sensing, a striding stepping a wishful making, today is breaking,connecting making inside another together forever.escape so real unfolds what we feel, a truth defined unspoken lines hands held in time in public or behind
we know our lives.





vindo ecus sam maw way and me uh and me and mau pad fadruchay dowm annah booth
in manna in wary got zu in nu go tzu. vito. no no no pair fo pay fo moto vee.

jay to mau no we to go da rag- A DA larr ray. swee choo yeah sure pee may she zahn non war.ah shcpet ah shcpet.
known grey lassah latch uh. hey noan knee. see. share toe. vee mamm man uh man nee nuh wah.x-ray catholic.

Wednesday 15 July 2009

the five മിനിറ്റ് n

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MANDIBLES ASTERIX AND ANSWER A CHASM. FACE IT. JESUS WESTERNS.
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taking pictures. writing books.writing essays. playing songs. cooking chicken. choking chicken. picking nose. writing art reviews. popping zits. thinking about reading. seeing books. seeing pictures. browsing pages. writing poems. taking medicine.researching all over the place. wondering about drugs. wandering about. looking at plants. looking at wasps. looking at paintings. laying down. reading essays. reading fiction.feeling fat. reading poems.feeling old. writing poems.feling bald. writing on blogs. talking to friends on the phone. thinking about talking to friends on the phone. tentatively cooresponding with artists. writing about artists. imagining plots. short stories. novels. poems. poems with plots. poems in pieces scattered on a construction site. grasping for meaniing by discussing meaning. realizing i cant focus. making not focused focused wont work. thinking about work. scared. jealous.looking at bills. wondering if i forgot a bill. lonely. excited. inspired. horny. depressed. suicidal. hungry. curious. hearing words to write.trying to not think about the fact i am using the internet. thinking about the internet as a community. thinking about the internet as a valuable context. thinking about family. thinking about angry things. creating angry things from nowhere. not crying. not laughing. realizing it's a blur.realizing that the internet is a thing,a piece of art itself.thinking about how there are concepts beyond me. thinking maybe i should not even try. thinking maybe there is genius in recognizing ones own limits. realizing how removed thoughts and presence seem in retrospect. thinking back in terms of months or hours.thinking about work. not thinking about thinking about money. afraid for future.not ggettng moved too much by anything. mimicking emotion it would seem. remembering. projecting. bitching. not listening to others. listening to others. curious to create consistantly. drinking coffee. changing music to something not so sad but atmospheric. adjusting lighting. looking at potential art materials. seeing everything as potential art materials. seeing nothing as potential art materials. feeling too many options. feeling like boxing up belongings to move. thinking about artists i admire. thinking about real people and making them less than something. thinking about parents. Thinking about writing a book. thinking about poets i now and how the stuff written by this writer is no good. realizing what good is. caught in a cycle of self awareness that starts off outward but ends up very inward. gargling hydrogen peroxide. playing with pieces of my broken tooth. taking pictures. loading pictures on computer. writing e-mails on the internet. imagining conversations. replaying conversations. imagining people. looking at trees. looking at squirrels. thinking about people who needing a respectful phone call. thinking about exercise. thinking about unhealthy food. thinking about a thankfulness for being beyond cigarettes. craving a cigarette,but not really. recalling driving habits. conscious of the time. adjusting glasses on bridge of nose. feeling sweaty. aware of cleanliness of environment. aware of disorganization. aware of a song's abrasive moments. dirty clothes in a red chair.black vinyl text on acetate rattled by a box fan. paintings on mdo plywood age. back hurts. fingers type. thoughts become sluggish. becoming self aware. i am self aware. i am trying to type thoughts. i am typing thoughts.liking a moment in a song. feeling it make me feel. for a second.thinking maybe i will try to organize myself.realizing i have tried that before. realizing i have tried that before. realizing that it what it is. thinkng i will organize my thoughts.thinking i will organize my reality. thinking i will do.
taking pictures.
writing books.
writing essays.
playing songs.
cooking chicken.
choking chicken.
picking nose.
writing art reviews.
popping zits.
thinking about reading.
seeing books.
seeing pictures.
browsing pages.
writing poems.
taking medicine.
researching all over the place.
wondering about drugs.
wandering about.
looking at plants.
looking at wasps.
looking at paintings.
laying down.
reading essays.
reading fiction.
feeling fat.
reading poems.
feeling old.
writing poems.
feeling bald.
writing on blogs.
talking to friends on the phone.
thinking about talking to friends on the phone.
tentatively cooresponding with artists.
writing about artists.
imagining plots.
short stories.
novels.
poems.
poems with plots.
poems in pieces scattered on a construction site.
grasping for meaning by discussing meaning.
realizing i cant focus.
making not focused focused wont work.
thinking about work.
scared.
jealous.
looking at bills.
wondering if i forgot a bill.
lonely.
excited.
inspired.
horny.
depressed.
suicidal.
hungry.
curious.
hearing words to write.
trying to not think about the fact i am using the internet.
thinking about the internet as a community.
thinking about the internet as a valuable context.
thinking about family.
thinking about angry things.
creating angry things from nowhere.
not crying.
not laughing.
realizing it's a blur.
realizing that the internet is a thing,a piece of art itself.
thinking about how there are concepts beyond me.
thinking maybe i should not even try.
thinking maybe there is genius in recognizing ones own limits.
realizing how removed thoughts and presence seem in retrospect.
thinking back in terms of months or hours.
thinking about work.
not thinking about thinking about money.
afraid for future.
not gettng moved too much by anything.
mimicking emotion it would seem.
remembering.
projecting.
bitching.
not listening to others.
listening to others.
curious to create consistantly.
drinking coffee.
changing music to something not so sad but atmospheric.
adjusting lighting.
looking at potential art materials.
seeing everything as potential art materials.
seeing nothing as potential art materials.
feeling too many options.
feeling like boxing up belongings to move.
thinking about artists i admire.
thinking about real people and making them less than something.
thinking about parents.
Thinking about writing a book.
thinking about poets i know and how the stuff written by this writer is no good. realizing what good is.
caught in a cycle of self awareness that starts off outward but ends up very inward. gargling hydrogen peroxide.
playing with pieces of my broken tooth.
taking pictures.
loading pictures on computer.
writing e-mails on the internet.
imagining conversations.
replaying conversations.
imagining people.
looking at trees.
looking at squirrels.
thinking about people who needing a respectful phone call.
thinking about exercise.
thinking about unhealthy food.
thinking about a thankfulness for being beyond cigarettes.
craving a cigarette,but not really.
recalling driving habits.
conscious of the time.
adjusting glasses on bridge of nose.
feeling sweaty.
aware of cleanliness of environment.
aware of disorganization.
aware of a song's abrasive moments.
dirty clothes in a red chair.
black vinyl text on acetate rattled by a box fan.
paintings on mdo plywood age.
back hurts.
fingers type.
thoughts become sluggish.
becoming self aware. i am self aware.
i am trying to type thoughts.
i am typing thoughts.
liking a moment in a song.
feeling it make me feel.
for a second.
thinking maybe i will try to organize myself.
realizing i have tried that before.
realizing i have tried that before.
realizing that it what it is.
thinking i will organize my thoughts.
thinking i will organize my reality.
thinking i will do.

WHAT WILL YOU DO?

If you think you think you should heed the warning of your mother and sister and not risk uncertain sorcery,turn to page 25

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