frybread sonnet #005: WINTER SOLSTICE

"Little bit more sun today," said December sky;
I was scrolling through the In-Real-Life clouds, looking
up past micro-scope of man thought, watching crows fly
back and forth between oak penthouses. Life's hooking
tentacles of advancement, of false progress earned
don't mean as much (to me) as sitting outside, eyes
wide, watching as late December solar facts burned
few minutes longer. Underground starting to rise
with them so fresh so clean cycles of life, thinking
"little bit more sun today." Soon enough, fresh sprouts
will be sprung forth, hopeless doubts about death sinking
back into ground (background), as blossom chorus shouts
with its colorful chaos - "LITTLE BIT MORE SUN
TODAY" - solstice soul sustenance universe spun.

gentrified the internet,

fuck the world gone for the win,

digital flea market dead

even my time machine's got

broken windows, but ain't no

junkyard full of time machines

dirtgod rhizomes spread aura

from beyond underground, turn

gridlocked skies into lime greens

benefits of homeschooling -

philosophy's foundation

chinked later with specifics

motherfuckin' red mushroom

peeking out the fuckin' earth

like “what up y’all dumb bitches?”

as I walk the streets, dead souls

I greet; blank gazes ahead

chasing naught, wasting a head

frybread sonnet #004: TERROR ALERT HIGH

(vague) TERROR ALERT HIGH: don't worry, holiday
deals better than ever: now half off (too much), keep
giving (gifts), remain exceptional U.S.A.
where outsiders hate our freedoms: don't let fear creep
into your wallet. (vague) TERROR ALERT HIGH: but
service sector section 8 unemployment rate
remains low: even if you cannot afford what
you "need", remember - What's in your wallet? reach straight
for credit, pay later, and maintain great lifestyle
today. (vague) TERROR ALERT HIGH: we (free) will not
be defeated by extremists: let's let stocks pile
higher market value than ever: let us plot
together to counter-terror without much "why?",
continue consuming: (vague) TERROR ALERT HIGH.

scribbled words creating false

sense of permanence despite

native humane emptiness

frybread sonnet #003: MARTIN SHKRELI'S WU-TANG ALBUM

Only makes sense super exclusive wu-tang clan
album got bought by hedge fund pyramid scam elite
"I can haz"bro toy human being less hue-man
than dollar-clutcher at all costs; I guess discreet
artist process in the multi-millions prices
out masses of passionate financial messes
lacking blessings from In God We Trust; devices
of true knowledge become trick knowledge - excesses
of devils self-justified because chessboxing
mysteries assimilated into playlists
they possess; mad PharmaBro types hip hop-poxing
human community. True resistance resists;
true positive charge never absorbs negative;
true healing can't be pop cultural sedative.

distant freight horns not as loud

as responsibility's

incessant mechanized shriek

thinking about video

games while at work - this is life

in twenty-first century

dozen years trying to fly,

feet depressed into quicksand

of uncontrolled emotions

frybread sonnet #002: NO WIKIPEDIA PAGE YET

No wikipedia page for unseen mystics;
even the thirdest of party candidates got
hot links to their name with digital linguistics
social medium-sized largely about what not,
lacking philosophical specifics; so these
lizard people congregate upon Sin City
to debate nothing much thru soundbytes, shoot to please
lowest common denominator of shitty,
fractured populace, trained to hate and think shit talk
is debate. No wikipedia page for those
composed of doing good for real - walking the walk
without acknowledgement or credit; real folk knows
real action benefits real life - no time to chase
abstract fractions while repairing this one shared space.

the other night, an older

black dude walked by at twilight

blasting Bob Seger boombox

ancient hazmat placards lost

to the distant cities mass

of rubble after the fires

frybread sonnet #001: KEEP WAITING FOR NEVER

Keep waiting for never - promises of change are made
(at least ev'ry four years) to maintain direction
towards oblivion; not obvious waylaid
chaos destroying order at intersection
of progress and hopes, seen as civilized rubble,
but a more introspective oblivion, where
one learns to make self secondary, not trouble
the routine or mundane with feelings life's unfair.
Keep waiting for never, utopia rising
collectively through realization we've built wrong
structure upon philosophic faults, devising
engineered calculations believed to be strong
but just moving along - life is not forever;
and yet I sit still... idling... waiting for never.

mathematics of clouds confounds

me - wild, strange crystal fractals

filling what we call heaven

resurfacing from under

earth for first time in five years;

a cameraman awaits

contemplating suicide,

which means continuing to

exist exactly as is

winter sets in - I begin

missing the mushrooms' hopeful

caps that shit beneath’s changing

"cover the earth" used to say

the Sherwin Williams logo

on dashboard of my work truck

dreams murdered by surface earth

superficial system like

pyramid but of people

NEW Rojonekku Word Fighting Arts zines (issues 3 & 4)

I have had two new issues of my zine called the Rojonekku Word Fighting Arts zine for like over a month, but free money and free time are a Venn diagram of reality and my intersection is small. I readily admit I am of a position in life not necessarily what I felt born into, and thus my intersecting Free Time and Free Money Venn Diagram of Life Comfort is far larger than probably ever before since I’ve been a human being, but it still does not afford mailing shit out in a timely manner. No worries, I don’t have too many subscribers anyways. BUT GUESS WHAT – YOU CAN SUBSCRIBE TO MY ZINE 

HERE!

Sure zines are archaic and somewhat counterintuitive to our current cultural trainings, but I am a rock solid master of archaic counterintuitive arts. (More like slave, if we are being honest.)

Also I decided to no longer offer selling individual issues. These are limited print runs of 150 each issue, and subscribers start with #001 and whatever is unsubscribed upon I’m just gonna mail out to whoever I feel like. You are certainly able to email or write me and suggest places I mail these extra issues out to, even if it’s just yourself, but likely I will follow my own witless whims and will (of the wisp). This is going to be a losing proposition most likely so fuck it, I’ll send them wherever I see fit outside of subscribers.

Oh hey, speaking of archaic and nonsensical, I’ve decided that with the beginning of the new year in 2016, there will be a ridiculous nonsensical gibberish blog I’ll be doing which will be accessible to subscribers to the zine as well. Most likely most subscribers will not bother checking that site, as most people don’t check this site, as we don’t really see ourselves culturally trained to “check” websites any more, outside of our supercenter one-stop social media shops. THE DAYS OF THE SIMPLE MOM-AND-POP RAMBLING CONSPIRATORIAL WEBSITE ARE GONE, YO. But this is a thing that makes me happy, this nonsense blog which will be called New Earth Writing, so I am going to do it as a subscriber bonus, although it won’t really be a bonus but your native born right as someone who gives me money for the weird shit that comes out my brain (or heart, or even gut… I am not sure of the origins to be honest).

So here is what is in these two new issues, which you will receive as the beginning of your subscription if you subscribe from any point between now and when I finish issue 5 (which may be next spring, or next week… no predictions).

ROJONEKKU WORD FIGHTING ARTS ISSUE 3

INTRODUCTION (where I say hello)

BLOSSOM OF THE REDBUDS (nature’s screwed & chopped tree)

NATURE OF THE ELECTRIC STAPLER AT WORK & WHAT IT SIGNIFIES (not even my current work no more)

VULTURES & EAGLES (I saw some vultures)

BUDDHA DUMP TRUCK (tiny Buddha army in action)

THE PROMISE OF RAVEN MACK’S TILLER (neighbor neighbor, why you bugging)

DREAM JAGUAR (car, not spirit animal)

THE NATURAL URGE TO WALK (innate ache)

MADE-UP WOMAN NAMED HETTIE HITCHENS (a new place in my made-up worlds called Chuckrock)

TOP SEVENS (pointless lists)

WORK VAN BLOOZE (an ode)

TOO MANY KEYS (more blooze)

FACE TATTOOS (another ode)

ROJONEKKU T-SHIRT (not for real, more an exploration of possibilities)

FIRST UMBRELLA (sad pathetic realities of Raven Mack life)

OUTRO (where I say goodbye)

ROJONEKKU WORD FIGHTING ARTS ISSUE 4

This issue has an intro and outro, like always, but it is the 45s on 33 list from last summer as seen on this website, except two things came together like peanut butter and chocolate: 1) You can’t really write about the actual music online when you are sharing download links because devil ass corporations get jacked up and send you threatening emails which mean nothing so long as you never acknowledge them; and 2) I felt like the three people who subscribe who might actually have read parts of the list on the website as well deserve more than that. So what I did was write a whole shitload more about the actual records, or just more nonsense, probably as much added new as was already there, and there was a shit ton of beautiful nonsense gibberish speaking in tongues the devil’s algorithms can’t understand Raven Mack bullshit in the list already. So it’s a giant compendium of even more nonsense. In fact, I only got to #73 on the list, which is why if you click it on this website now, it stops with #72, because I am deleting them from the cyber version as they appear in zine version. IT’S A BRAVE NEW WORLD, YO.

Anyways, I hope you will consider supporting whatever the fuck it is I do.