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.