Thursday, April 26, 2012



more steps-verses-re, winding times back to before the suffering.

welcome back, viewers, to my living twilight, where that pivotal beginning comes second to its end. hours to hour powers extend out, touch the sun's fading horizon, as this old fern withers into dust. to a forest i go and to a forest i return, yet each only embody this journey's crescendos. what requires in-depth perusal is kinetics, combustion, radiation, all the small rays earth's sphere abundantly offers. our body-builds rest on sunlit foundations thrown out on rigid axises, rigged to refracted wave-points like tracked dollies swerving in a crystal mineshaft. deeper and deeper does the path extend, drive on into dirt, drill through dampness, dink across diamonds, and deeper still does the cart go, loaded with its luscious cargo, invisible motivation. even if tracing its path proves impossible at first, our energy runs straight in the end, guided by universal management and unalterable dictates.

unfortunately, its end isn't ours.
the dolly must reel back.
the administration accepts no substitutes for its content.

one-one trades.
business as usual.

my surfacing was to come with screeched wheels and train blows from a man you all know.

Nine was swallowed by it, black as the sputtering stars, and the dark between the leaves surged backwards as i sprinted down the path. too bright, too hot, too visible. it invoked the white haze of knowledge. bunches, cracks, trees impede escape, veiny hedges and coagulated sap muddying all-too familiar surface space. crunches, creaks, snaps left in my wake, left in sum-autumn breezeways, half-gold clearings opaqued with red drizzle. trip! a half-wail, clogged by adrenaline that kicks me up with a horse hind-leg whumf and shoots me out again, sleek, pumping vitality, an inadequate imitation of what forces me onward. dirt roads littered with trash, flotsam vestiges catching my step- but i couldn't afford to consider them. the treehouse door bumped forward-back to my left-right-no sight, distraction opening an avenue of opportunity in two eye flutters for it to twist the world and arrive ahead, nine paces off.

cracks colors and shifts places.
deja vu.
y tu, John?

split off, blitz another way, pretending not to notice. pretending that thoughts of spiriting myself away rested deep in my mind's sleep, in subtexts that parlayed hints held only by morpheus. pretending the panic was momentary, checked by primal eddies, never truly comprehended. crack, crack, crack. whispering winds give no answers to its placement, but it never lingers. never without reason. huff, huff, huff. a squished sun held reign above my head as i careened onto a orange-red stretch of dirty essence, earth-stuff splattered all over, kept moving even though my legs begged to rest. -blink- precludes the next step. abdominal gurgling at the sight, an urge to unclench clogged bowels. blue chills grip, a pressure clamped down on my toes, unwinds me upward, unhinges what control remains. to keep it contained is maddening and to keep it maddening contained, a conundrum of conflict i couldn't address.

stumble, stumble, stumble.
falls come quick.
somehow it had gotten hold.

it drew me up and out, as wide as the sky yet still linked to soils at the edge. black spread out and only widened sight. searing tones of Nine's abscesses clumped with inky knots from Nine's recesses, but no white lasted besides its floppy oval. thousands upon thousands of its parts and pieces quivered with delight, wormed and wriggled and slunk down and across, perused Nine's fractures, suckled Nine's nutrients gleefully, spat at one-another, considered my capture. i observed none of them. i wept without regret, too terrified for shame, too prostrate to change, at it. investigating my essence with doctoral sterility, it unites our appendages, as if urging me to deduce what monstrosity lays beneath the humanoid veil. i can't tell it, i can't, that it wasn't for me, but for her. suspended in Nine's organic miasma, a choking cloud of the forest's all-colored virility, i await its schism.

starting at the end, though, has its perks.
those watchful appreciate my handiwork.
the Almighty.

my dome-self collapses, suddenly, to Nine's foundation, and Nine's tints blend again. a suitable aroma greeted my rise: charred musk, dried blood, condensed dusk swirling in 70 degree moonshine. it's what he held in his hand, chugged, as he watched my work shoes struggle to embed the grassy patch newly spawned by it. his suit? a crisp beige, signifying an armani epidermis. his shoes? a slick black, unmarred by mortal dirt. his importance? my once-current boss. a grin nearly leapt off his face when our eyes met, and i knew he knew why my pupils stayed dilated. his black skin showed no perspiration. golden shine breached the vessel of his mind, poured out through the pitcher of his eyes. to his suit's right, two small letters, string text embroidered red and white.

an outstretched hand takes my only touch of apotheosis.
"Hello, Moe. We've taken interest."

here ends guides, signs, and the fateless life of Moe Nunbady.
now the real work commences.

Saturday, April 21, 2012


seven is the lucky number.
eight, the remains of familiarity.
Nine is two fores in one. 

Nine carries two holes, two flags, two embedded picks, surrounded by red Georgian soil.
Nine holds four white orbs thumping to stillness in their sculpted holes, slipping in and out of focus with the sunlit leaves and their darkness.

Nine grips to my memory with its raw tendrils, slick and sticky, pocked with the writhed-in rocks and life's too-prevalent scent.
Nine pushes from the feet, expels its content up, up, up for the gawking world to witness.

Nine is where KO began, where KO and I joined as one, where KO will cease.
Nine remains, even after Shon was swallowed by the soft-stone that clasped together with awful haste, even after Priss' laughter sundered the world.

my world.
our world.
its end started with a puzzle like my own.

you see, this sieve let the nuggets slip. fulfilled its duty to mean nothing, though it said much. the jutting outlines of my thoughts scribbled down, copied over, bottled up, chucked seaward, built to snag corneas with their luster. polish a rock enough and you'll sell it for more than fifty year's toil, more than the star-bound mass of adult and child evaporating in existence (i know from experience). a sacrifice as necessary as any other; we all aren't entitled to dream houses (again, i know from experience). so now that the attention's secured, the audience will rally in awe of the sparkles and come to know the powders behind them, what grime sticks on faces, constricts windpipes, lockjaws mashers (i'm sure you know i know from experience). that's not to say this blog enterprise is wholly non-sequitur. we'll return to it later. but since KO lies dormant and vacation days linger, my chance to extrapolate on these provided clues presently presents itself.

what is KO? what drives its repetition? what brought me to The Coca-Cola Company's doorstep?

We must take three three-steps back to pinpoint where each of those questions' answers lies. slide back the first set paces - un, dos, tres, out from solid, adhesive umbra into Nine's center courtyard.

observe Nine's mighty protector, a bark behemoth born to earth's embrace by the weight of its roots. they slink in the clumpy soil, take more than their fill demands, demand constant filling. you can see it in the leaf colors: startling crimson, popped against blank white, supporting a navy sky.

al Bino, the south's white pillar. a trifecta of american shades holding up Nine's bloated brown dirt. literal testament to KO-given miracles (at the time, I thought God did all; now I know better!).

its presence pumped the fleshy foreign blood that kept Nine panting, sent the verdant dough to the grounds-keepers dedicated to delayed renovation, preferably mother earth's. green for green, bark back to bark (in a circuitous way): so the forest encroached.

fools fail to preserve their environment.
but they only hastened Nine's last ten days.
its puzzles got us all.

tomorrow we'll step again.
six, five, four.

Friday, April 20, 2012


KO released early, but i didn't scamper.
sights weren't seen. 
numerical accumulation defied speculation. 
what wasn't right? 
what wasn't right, 
wasn't right. 
 so i turned left,

skipped stepping on the elevator's edge. fumbled through a field of cubicles, home-grown milking stations built for KO's cows. personal decorations lined the walls, pictures and statues and cars and women and origami hobbled into form with a child's feathered crudeness. wanton, how KO's lawns seethed with righteous virility at adequate treatment's absence, yet real men and women, made of more biomass than Atlanta's totaled fields, allowed themselves tireless abuse. lunacy. who would willingly volunteer to face pad and chain in KO's cardboard maiden, industry's asphyxiating cage, societal selection's saw? what sort of madness drove one to dream of fettering hopes and dreams to anchors tethered by gravity's pull? who could bring themselves to cope with the consequence of such a choice? were KO's proclamations assured through divinity?

in my case, proof laid in the pudding.
shame, disgust, inward focus.
but belief didn't belie doubt's buzz.

no. not a chance. it was KO, its nightmarish words rolling off my tongue, the septic touch of its bubbles boiling from my esophagus, exposed by my deviation. truth is, i strolled down an avenue of ash-made desires taunting me to chastise those below, KO's peons lacking insight. truth is, i almost wrote them off as mere bloated tat-sacs, globs of life-juice squeezed for another's pleasured consumption. but no one can walk mindless to decimation, to ten-fold separation in houred chunks of a lifetime glued to a seat, waiting...waiting...waiting for a break.

i didn't
i couldn't
i wouldn't

you can't dally

so i took the initiative
and looked

The Coca-Cola Company                                              Delaware
Subsidiaries consolidated, except as noted:

   Barq's, Inc.                                                    Mississippi       100
   Bottling Investments Corporation                                Delaware          100
      ACCBC Holding Company                                        Georgia           100
   Caribbean International Sales Corporation, Inc.                 Nevada            100
   Caribbean Refrescos, Inc.                                       Delaware          100
   Carolina Coca-Cola Bottling Investments, Inc.                   Delaware          100
   Coca-Cola Financial Corporation                                 Delaware          100
   Coca-Cola Interamerican Corporation                             Delaware          100
      Montevideo Refrescos, S.A.                                   Uruguay           55.53
   Coca-Cola Overseas Parent Limited                               Delaware          100
      Coca-Cola Holdings (Overseas) Limited                        Delaware          100
      Coca-Cola Dimlight (Overseas) Inc.                           Illinois          100
Coca-Cola South Asia Holdings, Inc.                                Delaware          100
   Coca-Cola (Thailand) Limited                                    Thailand          100
   CTI Holdings, Inc.                                              Delaware          100
      55th & 5th Avenue Corporation                                New York          100
   The Coca-Cola Export Corporation                                Delaware          100
      Amalgamated Beverage Canners (Pty) Ltd.                      South Africa      51.55
      Atlantic Industries                                          Cayman Islands    100
         Ansan Ankara Gida Mesrubat ve Meyva Sulari Sanayii
          ve Ticaret A.S.                                          Turkey            66.63
         Coca-Cola Bevande Italia S.r.l.                           Italy             100
            Azienda Bevande di Gaglianico-ABEG-S.r.l.              Italy             100
            Societa Bevande Meridionale-SOBEM S.r.l.               Italy             100
         Maksan Manisa Mesrubat Kutulama Sanayi A.S.               Turkey            66.66
      Barlan, Inc.                                                 Delaware          100
         Varoise de Concentres S.A.                                France            100
            Coca-Cola G.m.b.H.                                     Germany           100
               Coca-Cola Rhein-Ruhr G.m.b.H.                       Germany           100
         Societa Imbottigliamento Bevande Roma-SIBER-S.p.A.        Italy             100
      Beverage Products, Ltd.                                      Delaware          100
      Coca-Cola de Argentina S.A.                                  Argentina         100
      Coca-Cola de Chile, S.A.                                     Chile             100
      Coca-Cola Ges.m.b.H.                                         Austria           100
      Coca-Cola Industrias Ltda.                                   Brazil            100
         Recofarma Industria do Amazonas Ltda.                     Brazil            100
      Coca-Cola Ltd.                                               Canada            100
         The Minute Maid Company Canada Inc.                       Canada            100
      Coca-Cola (Japan) Company, Limited                           Japan             100
      Coca-Cola Korea Company, Limited                             Korea             100
      Coca-Cola Nigeria Limited                                    Nigeria           100
      Coca-Cola Southern Africa (Pty) Limited                      South Africa      100
      Conco Limited                                                Cayman Islands    100

International Beverages                                            Ireland           100
         Coca-Cola Refreshments Moscow                             Russia            100
      Minute Maid SA                                               Switzerland       100
      Refreshment Product Services, Inc.                           Delaware          100
         Coca-Cola de Colombia, S.A.                               Colombia          100
         Coca-Cola Holdings (Nederland) B.V.                       Netherlands       100
         Coca-Cola Holdings (United Kingdom) Limited               England and       100
      The Inmex Corporation                                        Florida           100
         Servicios Integrados de Administracion                    Mexico            100
          y Alta Gerencia, S.A. de C.V.
nothing special, all publicly available...besides the bold. never in my life have i examined, researched, or investigated a company called dimlight, -ever-, in any of KO's financed operations under my jurisdiction.

but i knew them.
oh, KO, how i knew them!

a confession is in order - you did not premier my bureaucratic wizardry. half a score ago, a man and grey-shine tango'd together with terrifying rhythm. conjoined by bleak contract, our palms plucked forth instruments of madness, aristotelian visions from imagination's darker eddies, and brought hell earthbound. i left those times for silence to reclaim, but dull-glow hadn't prayed for my peace, hadn't given me time to extinguish what we did. KO provided refuge, or so i assumed. now i can see the numbers in flawless arrangement. now, KO's tickers are clicking.

that wasn't all we did.

reading the phrase just clarified


ko no i can't do this
ko no i can't do this
ko no i can't do this

get out
get out
get out


keep typing
keep typing
keep typing


just get out

dont go looking for them then they'll find you faster

(please let some[one] see)

the tv won't stop
the tv won't stop
the tv won't stop

and i took in the white i embraced it brought it up to my breast poured it into my figure's vessel
it greased the nozzle, plugged in the syrup and pushed my buttons and I


it and i tried not too you could see but

it got through
it got through
it got through

and thats what caused me to pause in my assumption. they know and i know - we're all privy. our words must catch in the throat's globbed mucus or else we all risk embracing (the fructose curse). armed with our families and cadillacs, our throbbing genitals, our digits and social formulas, we subdue the ever-present ruckus. keep it to ourselves, where it belongs. secured, soundproofed, given no second glance. if you don't have that? turn to noise. noise keeps horror vacant, leaves one deaf and dumb to scrawl and scream.

but white noise can't



Tuesday, April 17, 2012

"quality programming,"

says TV GUIDE Magazine,

"is integral for both our own sustainability as a company and the sustainability of television as a medium. In today's ever-present Internet world, assurance of quantity and timeliness mean nothing when abundant content lies a hyperlink away. When customer retention focuses around giving the viewer what they want, what they need, what entices their interest, piques their curiousity, gets them thinking, then TV will secure its place in the entrenched echelons of media history. Radio knows, newspapers are learning - so why are we skipping out on class?"

an astute preface. to skimp out on what makes TV TV does none good. sometimes stories only translate accurately when considered in a particular frame, an established view-point taking full advantage of its medium's domain. quality not only refers to general production value, but also to the inimitable intricacies that embellish an art's impact on the populace. a shot angle loses meaning in translation to written paragraph; a sentence cannot conform to a camera's rigid boundaries. who watches a book? who reads a movie? who else more qualifies art's affect than its audience?

what supersedes the viewership? nothing.

stop at nothing to portray something.

Sunday, April 15, 2012

boats born back from a bay

sheesh! my weeks, so prone to stumbling out their calendar! so desperate to enjoy themselves anywhere but at present! corralling such a shifty bunch into a schedule's semblance presents (myriad) difficulties. the circled (X)s accumulate across dates whose resolution should show -something-, but just go. and go. and go. again. and again. and a(gain) - of nada comes nada. what's worst isn't their delinquency, it's their establishment as history, how the endless fosters of time's eye escape into impenetrable ether, fade as one through tear-drop mists conjured by their predecessors. traces vanish, with assured finality, and all one can do is await the next batch, hope that the imparted lessons stick this time, pray for a (slender) ray to pierce next morning's boiling monsoon.

pray for KO's deliverance. (ah[!])-men, say those who fail in sharing my lacking religion, the worst character judges.

those good kids, though, who stick around my head long enough to ferment a rapport, they tell me well. cans clinking together. tins to tins, mugs to chugs. affliction by the cupid-stupids, transmitted through fiery shots, sod spots protruding and incisions not. a hodge-podge of appendages flailing within themselves for moments, until a sudden, sticky liquid leaks all over, and stillness arrives, vanguard to the realization: my parenting skills lack.

television forefront, and the periphery's (blurry). but my (eyes), dare wander? (pa)h! why embrace what needs distraction?

longest nights mar fondest on our unmarked plaques, our undented papers. invisible consequence scratches, time's manifest suppressing its wounds. ordering remains important as ever in our bumblebee-(buzz)ing, (ludicrous)ly rushing lifespans. origination rarely occurs in peace. creation is movement, transition, the translation of actuality's portrait to reality's frame. to look through some frames, though, is to see watercolor bleeding, charcoal smeared, paint diminished as it touches earth-bound sadness. palpable, the liquid regret of spurned fulfillment (visible only to [one]). stick out the tongue, sip it all, lick it from the atmosphere until blank space equals the remainder, until tones, typefaces, and timelines blend into their commonality - (endless) white.

ding ding. bell rings. KO continues. off once more.