Category Archives: Denny

Denny–Meditation #2: Muffin/Pizza


Whatupskis!  So, it’s been awhile, dooders.  Totes my bad.  But I’ve been doing a lot of artistic shit on the side, to say nothing of the fact that I kinda view all of my life as a living novel/art instillation, so, like, putting things down on paper or on the internet just seems kinda inadequate, amiright?

Buuuuuut I know Jesse asked me to pitch in from time to time, so I got really fucked up and looked through my fridge last nite.  FEED YOUR HEAD.

Oh man…..I’m really hungry. I’m so hungry….so hungry….that….I don’t know what to get in the fridge….guess…..guess I’ll take a look.

 It’s…..fridge is so cold.

 Oh…I think, uh, I think I had….some muffins.  Let’s see. 

 Ohhhhhhh no there’s, there’s, uh… muffins.  Maybe I ate them yesterday……

 Sometimes I forget……muffins…..well, uh, well, maybe I have some, oh, uh, some pizza leftover from the other day: no, no pizza, either.  I’d really like some pizza….like, pizza with some pepperoni, yeah that’d be sweet….and maybe, uh, sausage….yeah….yeah…that’d be good, yeah..and maybe some mushrooms too, yeah….mushrooms, uh, mushrooms are okay on a pizza for me….yeah….and…oh, it would tastes so good….yeah….it’s almost like I can taste it now.  Pretty good. Yeah.

 I guess I could go and, uh, get it now: call the place, uh, order my pizza then walk down there to get the pizza then walk back here and eat the pizza.  Yeah, sweet, I think, I think….I think that’s what I’ll do….make the call.  Yeah.  I’ve got a loud phone, I forget.

 There, I ordered it.

But it’s….oh!  But its really…it’s so cold….just… way, too much.  I’m going to be hungry forever….forever….


Yeah, I know.  Pretty fucking awesome.  Yeah, I know.  It is kinda like Burroughs and Joyce looking through a fridge together.  Thanks.

Well, chowser Bowser.  I’ll check in later with some more BOOM BOOM GOES THE DYNAMITE.


Denny: Blood on the Rug

dooooosh Whaddup, dawgz!

Sooooooo POETRY, right? Like, I write it from time to time, and sometimes it rhymes.  I mean, as I’ve said before, I’m more about confronting and subverting conventionality.  But every now and then you have to remember what it is exactly that you’re subverting.  And really, this is STILL a pretty subversive poem.


Blood on the Rug

The downward looking compass leads us to the fields
Where giant, fluffy kitties meow to us for food
But we do not have visions for fish or for milk
So we can only pet them, listen to them purr

But sometimes in their purring, God will speak to us.
We sing a song unto Him, borne within our hearts
We ask him for direction, send to us a sign
A DIETY eternal, one who is divine

But God does not yield to us what we wish to have
Turns his golden face away, stripes us with a laugh,
And leaves us grounded.  Writhing, fast in gloom and muck,
We tear at our own faces, our blood on the rug.

Blood on the rug, tears on our cheeks,
Lead in our souls, nowt may we seek.
Would we but have a giant frog,
To him bow as holy God.

But the only relic we have
Is our own blood.
On the rug.

. . . . . . .

I know: pretty fucking awesome.  You’re welcome.

Denny: Beautiful and Chrystaline Visions



Whaddup, hombres!

So, J-Dawgg asked me to submit a piece for the show-online.  I am in the creative writing track at the University, so it seemed pretty natural and obvious to write something.  But really, one of my biggest passions is my audio work (not just on KRUI).  I do a lot of experimental soundscapes and some improvised prose poems.  The latter is what I’m going to share today.

The World is Beautiful, You Know_

My improv prose is usually pretty esoteric and very free form.  I like to do kind of a stream-of-consciousness type deal.  I think of my style as kind of like “Ginsberg meets Joyce meets Burroughs”, or something like that.  It’s the vividness and “found art” aspect that I like about this kind of stuff the best (full disclosure: I was kinda drunk when I made this).  Maybe you will too (or whatevski)

But anyhoo, BOOM goes the dynamite.

By Denny