where’s my ass?

in a valiant effort to ignore the fucking heartache i am suffering right now, i am trying to update some of my pages so they don’t look like utter crap…right now i am working on my page of comics i have started…but not finished.
(if you want to volunteer any web-building skills? i can pay in inkings! or duck eggs!)
so i’m scanning in some old comics when–i realize i am missing comics! hard copies…yes, my filing system would indicate i am a genius per all those “you are a genius if” articles that i suspect are designed just to make those of us who have a tendency for absentmindedness feel better…however, it makes it impossible for me to find things.
i always put things in a safe & obvious place, and then promptly forget where they are.

so i’m in the process of tearing my house apart (aka: cleaning) to try & find said comics. so far, no good.

meanwhile….

man, i miss making comics.

this comic is one i started writing as i became increasingly disillusioned with living in a co-op. if you ask me, it is brilliant. of course, i never finished it…yet.

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psychotic plunking on a xylophone

i forgot what i wanted to say
or maybe i said it already?
poetry in my mind is gone
by the time i find a pen
pictures in my head
won’t translate to the paper
like all i can do
is fuck it up
trying to write
to draw
the magical music in my ear
but all i manage
is the psychotic plunking
of a xylophone
i’d be a genius
if i knew what i was
trying to
say.