April, 2008

(archives)

haunted

– brianprince

drip… drip…
a sequence more in tune than the recording corner’s
metronome. strange screams come from the faucet.
plumbing. why is the hot water gone. solo. track.
shower. stove crackle. light. the only one home.

wash with Aveeno. clean the pores of this dry heat oil
based face. aged. weathered. canvas. stretched. wood
frame. and stapled. sideways. vaulted ex-apartment
ceilings. art studio. sliding door window screen. ripped.
torn. up to the handle. creating a “child-door” entry.

itchy throat. from next door neighbor, Dolores’
cigarette smoke. red. green. with a flash
of yellow. on the wall. disco fever. back to red.
screech. stop. silence. crickets. haunted.

there’s something spooky
about working
in the place you
used to live,
make love,
and raise kids.

stopped using plastic bags. for trash.
stopped shopping. a lack of cash.
the recreational money now goes to
the necessities. forcing the love of
the affair to dwindle. brought down.
to it’s knees. two holes in white sheets.

we see (underlined) the unleashed
entrepreneurial system. could not
hasten the form of freedom sought.
because monuments are the view
of gloomy homes. and business
premises lie in grimy, spiritless cities.

I (drop cap) fall under the monopoly
where mass culture is identical. we’re
mental. it’s clear. the lines of this
artificial framework appear. flashing
down the street of wet asphalt.
drip… drip…

– – – – –

two-story. high-rise. urban. city. fire
engine. church bell. ringing. lutheran.
catholic. episcopalian. methodist.
christian science. debating end times.
labeling my crimes. can’t make up
their minds. boo. scared you.

typography

– brianprince

rules i strive to live
by.

always check your kerning.
start off with negative tracking.
at least negative ten. don’t write
vertical when communicating quickly.
(hotel and motel are the exception.)
nor with uneven or unbalanced words.

please don’t leave your typesetting
to a sign shop. they only own silly fonts
have no taste in typographic usage
and don’t design with a purpose.
they’re really quite useless.

location is key. place your type
carefully. simply. in a second.
always close-up double oh’s.
closer than your average kern.
look. moon. poop. food.
be sure the captial Tee and whY
is close to your lower case oh.
To. Yo.

and spread your double el’s.
million. brilliant. trillion. killer.
don’t ever use a font named after
a city. ever. and move comic sans.
to the trash can. on a mac. or recycle
bin. if you’re a user of i.b.m.

make a capital vee and a capital eay
comfortable. VAGINA. ENDEAVOR. tighten
the kern. the space between them.
simple rules. of typography. watch
and observe. it’s easy to learn.
use your keyboard with caution.
perhaps go back to a pen.

the life i’m ruled
by.

know your printer. eat breakfast
with them. drive in their car. always
shake their hand. photoshop is not
graphic design. neither is a computer.

idea is king.

it’s solving a problem. it’s a service.
translating a message from one to
another. from bow to target. the arrow.
straight. narrow. responsible for
the end result. the viewers perception.

there’s meaning. there’s reason.
visual plus verbal equals message.
graphic design is a verb. a+b=c.
providing closure. problem
solved.

nine minutes

– brianprince

high noon. monday afternoon. six hours
before i have to do anything. seven
o’clock school this evening.

busted out the frozen trader joe’s
mojito salmon. mouth waters from
just looking at the packaging.

read the back because i can never
remember the cooking instructions.
microwave. push a couple buttons.

conventional oven sounds too complicated
and feminine. now i know why my
dad always said ovens are for women.

it comes out less tender. but so do
i. who’s judging. this is bachelor
time. i must embrace this encounter.

so. nine minutes… START. the light
comes on and i hit the garage button.
weave through the baseball stuff.

to jump on my cruiser. pedal. petal.
neck-breaking stare and that girl
in the corolla. (she started it.)

neck-back forward to nearly run
into some rockabilly dude. chops
all long and neatly groomed.

turn right on lawrence to the deli/
market. grabbed a six-pack of
smithwick’s. 1710. my favorite.

so swifty. pulled into the garage
like knight rider. black plastic bag
in hand. shut the genie screw drive®.

nineteen seconds left! just enough
time to scrape off the plate’s toast
crumbs from this morning’s mess.

crack the bottle. slide the salmon.
to me. this is a little piece.
of monday afternoon heaven.

topped off with a candy bar. and
some reading of james dickey.
i’m not sure life could

get any better.

corazón

– brianprince

i can’t speak.

i could stare at you for weeks.

listening to your reasons.

your theories. and dream of kissing with every gaze. simple hand shake. connection. blood pressure. raises. heart melting. waialeale mountain. dripping on soul like. warm coals hidden in tunnels at the hub of earth’s most lushious island. isolated. forgotten. the world drops behind. down the canyon grand. no ending. can’t hear it fall. so enthralled in your presence.

listening to your reasons.

i could stare at you for weeks.

i can’t speak.