wake up, rod

so, kicking this off - this is very new, don't really know where it's going yet. I really like basquiat, and he's a new discovery for me, so excuse my eager shittiness. by discovery I mean that I've become obsessed with him lately, not that he's a hidden secret. chunky as in crown -after Basquiat they (the clouds) are shaped like the best british sea power the empire has to offer, sitting heavy on the invisible clothing line separating worlds. he is there, etching tiaras, princes, fathers into vapor with a childish grasp of a nimbus knife, spine arms fluttering like musical saw whinging air. dude’s that ish splattering reeboks with white-out regalia, finding the divine right to rule, to command the thunderheads in every vertex. every stroke a proclamation. each chunk a crown.

So, for the month of February, AD Caroselli (also known in some k-holes as bigscarygiraffe) and I will be playing a little poetry chicken. The requirement is three new pieces (or assignments from others) per week from each of us. If B or K would like to jump in, please do. If the two of you would like to issue assignments at us, you'll likely have a captive audience completing them. What's at stake? Why, only the most precious thing: a jug of Carlo barreled in the Rhine method. If you have some assignments going, please post them up after we both get 1 thing up each. Hopefully this will turn into something interesting. Lock down your aerial.