Why steak sauce? Didn’t that go out out with the 70’s?
like the ERA
those abortion stories passed down
from mother to daughter
while drying the dishes

Salt is cool stuff

Who are we appeasing?
The diplomats sit on the couch
shoving their finger food bites
in our ears

Peasant dresses & plows in the field
turn over last year’s mouth manure
in rows irrigated with heavy water
from the next county

Somebody died in this soup

That puppet is fine without a zipper
See how she talks?
The jaw moves & everything
But they’re only listening
to her blue linen suit
stretched over the expanded hand
wrapped tight to keep it all in

Thank you for being a part
of my experiment with humans

Pink cows in real life
never give their true name
Double agents for alligators
that can no longer get work
since the crocs came to town
Veggie bites
barbecues in winter

I kneel to the power
of food, rent & catbills,
the doorman, the taxi break, the racist,
the truckers & cousin fuckers
I kneel to the bullet

They’ve discovered that Lobsters feel pain

She pays homage
to the meatball & the sausage
a means to assuage meat
And the pasta —
Some long & stringy
Some round as sewer pipe
some curled like a shell or woman’s ear
Tri-colored mix, unfeeling starch, boiled limp

Every day is a pasta day
a consider-the-ramifications day
blindfolded, we keep chewing & spitting
out, but the weather keeps getting weirder
Throw the live lobster in the boiling pot
Listen to him scream

Duly Noted

You gotta think like a shrimp
bottom feeding rocks
waves on the wall
runners coming out of the blocks

You stopped yourself
You said –
I didn’t stop myself

I decided I was okay with landscapes
monochromatic portraits weren’t far behind
I’m okay with jazz, especially trumpets,
some drums pounding in
Her Own Vision
enter the landscape
on grassy feet

Touching the shrimp again
the well exercised shrimp –
I think we’re competing

For Thanksgiving
3 pounds of inserts

see what happens when you jack me up
on vegetables and chocolate
Thank God there wasn’t any whiskey

the landscape of paranoia

we’re competing again
(I know when I’m competing)

the illusion of a strike was there
lines would be crossed
a red mark left
Horns riffed all around
Our illusion bombed their corrugated metal shack

you said
you would never feed me
then the next week you brought me
peanut butter and jelly sandwiches
I thought
inconsistency in messaging
Duly Noted

winking at a sun of yellow pigment
hand traced turkeys
the landscape rolls out of the painter’s brain
I like the idea of napping and competing
I nap better than you

humanity spilling out onto the canvas
salute the shrimp
reach into the shrimp’s back
and rip out its seam of black shit
before dipping in cocktail sauce

Wendy’s there
Jean is here
If you remember where I end
and you begin
It will help you with the compettition thing

You can’t compete without boundaries

If you’re controlling and consuming the other
at the same time
How can you effectively compete?

We both peak and valley on sugar the same

The wall is in the way

I have to write more than you
Everything is a competition
my wrist hurts
we need a chess clock

swamp tummy

swamp tummy

morning stomach gas
gurgling around the belly
searching for relief

I wanted my mess
and to keep people out of it!
my own poison darts circling
my brain wagons
influential parasite
travel knives are important

I can’t be worried about fruit
I can’t be worried about the drum section
horns in the night
acid etchings
nonsense will carry you
only so far

the amplifier has indigestion
the cantaloupe sits in puddles

you need to be fantasy flexible
I saw how you stepped
on your own tail
You were the reason I left this room
the steps swept clean

upgrade the monsters
something new and improved
warm tools
gold star bone to be had

I like your loose brain

transgressions in the mirror
sniffable contraceptives
I don’t know if I can handle
being reassured on that level

Does that pen have bagels on the end of it?

amputated boxcars

there are huge ants on the wall
big dog head in my lap
my feet like the heat

that’s right
the human is feeling
needy again —
the stubborn crisis

i’m okay;
i’ve got a sandwich

it always snows in Brookpark
the brain moves again
it never sticks
the new language of fingers
you know how i like it
i like it all over the place

red barn ham bone
alpha dog bed
learning garden

you are more trashed than i am high


it ain’t easy being a big dog
closet cat
everybody’s got so many expectations

your eyes were the screen saver
on my computer
before it went down
killer white poodle

i don’t want to be inspirational

he’s a honey hoarder
piggy shoe
gay guys happy hour
sign language
for sticky slow fingers
stuck keyboards

masectomized railway
fierce fighting kittie
sober children in Ethiopia

balloon hearts float on the night
units of bubble
the brain moves again
the brain moves towards you

the garbage is moving
itty bitty earthquake
big fat bright sucker
pacify him with treats

my cross is in her pocket
humming in her pants
fine, i’ll be your storybook chick

my inner incubator comes out
it’s all a game of incest
colony collapse disorder
dipping & turning & rubbing & nudging

the disease model
gay boy crackhead doper
trust fund baby
pretty boy

I like burps

you can change; I can’t!
I don’t know if I have the technology in me

a hybrid will make a stronger bee
everlasting funball
stages of culture
he gave me the official grunt

I understand the value of a good backpack
cruising for garbage
steal the lane
you’re more cuspy than me
you’re more crispy than me

I’ve gotten good at living with myself

I am the master of my olfactory
sneezing ice cubes
it’s a distance
I don’t think I can travel anymore

couscous can be allot of fun
a hybrid Jewish wedding; it was so watered down

I wanna be a fruit fly
frozen time concept
genuine lizard boots
I’m in a prose state of mind

my heater works best in the summer
let me know when it’s loaded
What year are you from?

I understand bran

one of the great things I heard on TV today
a whole line of cheese buzz
cookies could be replaced
sandboxes are cloned
designed to isolate your system
just because it’s extruded
doesn’t mean it’s not food

my dog publishes poetry


Allow disruption to deepen your concentration.

Everything I say is not a poem
It’s a Cleveland thing
structurally appropriate
3 digit rugs
coupling nuts

They try to get you with the tea
no faking that boy out
he knows when something’s up

You’re a page ahead of me

Hands I have forgotten
salt & rust
works of hands
blown clean by unemployment
crying rivers in the shower
missing hubcaps
wrinkled, clumsy, silent
genuine Cleveland black oxide
blood & saliva down the drain

I had shut out the internet
lies they tell white girls
tasty fiddleheads
people in a hurry on Sunday
hurry up & pray to god
hurry up & pray to god

they attempt to throw our state parks
under the bus
coat hanger love

even the ants won’t eat the margarine

it’s safer for me sometimes
to go out on a limb
because I have you
to pull me back in

I never thought I’d be so excited to eat chicken pot pie

he sniffed me when I mentioned your name
fortunate little DNA package
bridge game gone bad
kiss snort snuffle drip
bat eyes chasing flies

waiters flirt for their tips
minimum payment layaway
vines wrapped in concrete & rebar
your name playing soundtrack loop in my brain

there is no recession in heaven
diluted sorrow in a puddle
folding too early
feet remembered walking away

we are at homeostasis
no overload
no backing


Poems in the Pocket

Let’s not set the bar unsustainably high
you can disappoint them afterwards

isolating my track
sexual predator cat
soy bomb

love before caffiene is unconscionable
I can’t hear anything
I’m not connected
a cinder block wall in the middle of nowhere
I’m about to get an attitude

We were on our own scratchy island of red ants
when you eat lunch
with the queers
you know you’re a queer
victims of the bulldozer *
Going the other way
is always an option

I’m still looking for something
nothing says fun
like knives
crashing into portapotties
the Les Paul feels great in the hands too

Conversations cascade around the room
cops playing dress up
little girls shoes and stains
obnoxious middle aged women
fucked up fascination
It’s always 8:10 at Mom’s Diner

I put a fish poem in my pocket
It was fine until it got dry again
poppin and flabby – raggaefied

If you can initiate I can do it
I need to lay down the tracks in my brain
Shiny always sells

We’re running out of daylight
The birds, the cats and the Big Mac
the birds each get a meat patty
The cats never had a chance
kinda sad

Now it’s really MY turn

The crazy white bitch with the chain saw
I was playing with my Les Paul
the Mac Daddy of guitars
It can’t get any tighter

I didn’t know I had an option
I got its name in my pocket
Book of sparks
comfort knives
sensor in road
That cat’s half in the bag.

WeBiLo 6-14-09

* Philip DeLoach

mail order grooms

in WeBiLo world, there will be
mail order grooms
they will look good
know how to listen
& move all the heavy things

Mouse House

A lot of bad things happened
these last eighteen months
Another mechanic no longer
in the trusted mechanic zone
untouched water
body of work
pity devastated bull shit

I’m a bigheaded cat woman
willing to do the work to be your dog

I had the line
and now it’s gone
slacking in haikuland
There’s nothing better than ham in the morning
Hospital gown that explodes in the back
as oversized as their SUV’s

I have a dance that involves the hips and the keys
It’s used in religious ceremonies and barbecues
You have to forgive madness
ice jams
flammable tap water
fundable disabilities

we could underbelly up

In the 90’s I had five couches
tater tots on the side
500 calories for a buck
Russell would like a weird noodle place
sticky money

It’s a drag driving down Clark
Luna lazing on top of you
poems like sneezes
record busting snake
I should just stop talking

She has Albert Einstein hair
pulp is not the enemy
I got, like, a corner clean
Too late at night to leave a stuffed animal
She does the microwave
all this stuff bubbling in her mind

The dining room smells better,
but you’re not here
semi colons are my friends
Hermit crabs really do have feelings

I listen to my inner baby Jesus
burping up tabouli
junk in trunk
narco wars
let me know when it’s loaded

Once we put it on paper it has to be self-contained
A mouse house
my nose likes it
dead like Latin
Poetry i the Drug Mart Plaza
White Castle’s fine with me
a written treasure trove

Uh oh, shoe in the street
(waiting for the other shoe to fall)

It isn’t a stable if there is no Jesus
my poetry binder
tool shed Park Avenue
silk goes in the bathtub
The only way to replace lost false value
is to create new false value

smoking each other’s cigarettes and kissing

Are people calling me the proper noun?
sweaty guys in smoky suits
a little information stitck
a barstool n my mind
many more little notebooks

I forgot how to look
Americans are scared of hair
weird noodle love
influential parasite
I’m heavier; you’re lighter
upgrade the monsters

WeBiLo 4-5-09


I am not really touching
this glass
There is space between all matter
If I were to really touch
this glass
Matter would be destroyed

I am not really touching
There is space between us
If I were to really touch
We would be destroyed

Your breasts are known to me
no matter what you wear
Last night
in a dream
our breasts touched
and space opened
inside me

I will keep you there

WeBiLo 5-18-09



microsoft spellcheck
does not recognize CUNT
i think that is SAD!

WeBiLo 4-28-09

morning drive

sudden — this morning
cherry blossoms are poppin’
overnight success!

Jumping for Balloons

I like to keep a low profile
and a twenty in my pocket
standing in the middle of nowhere
Who doesn’t have size issues
climate control dog – that’s who

Sound systems should look good
in a storm any borders will do
flaunt your taste
random acts of kindness
I love my meat

Tastebuds will be closed

Heavenly metals
cat escort
rattling the sugar
indoor yaard sale
playing with friends is even better

He gave me the magic of the sould patch
I don’t even hate myself anymore
peeling the label
I want to store the sperm

Canadian artists have access to health care
and video equipment. *
I like my bed – nice & soft – perfect temperature
You can be the Jane Fonda of my mind
There is no recession in heaven
I assumed my role and it felt good.

You see – Paul McCartney with wings
comes in right after the stones
pixilated promise
accessory sleeve
if he suspects any sort of weakness,
or illness he’s on you like a coyote on a sick dear
in these tough economic times.

When the skaters hit the backs of their heads
you never see them again
62 could be the new 17
Frisbee, Fresca and Frampton
misbehaving with bowling balls
I didn’t even need to squiggle around to get
them to be quiet

He eats brains

I have a thing problem
I know an idea person when I see one
dog collar, pig ears and hot sauce
anti-fatigue flooring
artificial insemination under a microscope
when the white fluffy stuff starts to blow
it is not pretty.

Vatican overflow parking
smiley face fuck you – hello
bus incident in Canada
they extracted it – early boundary
steal the lane
If I was having a bad day and feeling a little annoyed
– that could have turned out a whole lot different.

New and improved embarassing secrets
Her ears flap in the wind
People wear Buddha on their sleeve
A frozen time concept
No notes, just an apology

I’m experiencing thermal shirt envy
Trying to be inspired
going 70 down 90
I tabled for your stomach
She wants me in a tree

I’ve never had arthritis but
I’ve had people owe me money.



* Frank Greeen

 I can feel it in my head when I write

Queer as three weiner dogs on a leash

As rated by stalkers everywhere


I’m a good wine person

If it weren’t so loud in here I’d send it back


Can you put three of them

            on a leash?


I’ve got an old lady neck,

you’ve got boys knees

no word left behind

A dinosaur in computerland

The co-efficient of friction wasn’t with me


Sometimes my brain just does things

We’re all on Youtube

we just haven’t been tagged

The hypocrisy of humanity

I’ll love the dog that prevails


Demonstrating makes me hungry

Healthy relationships keep me fit


funky mouse


I like jumping up and down

With younger men

Mom doesn’t like to wear the mom hat

Run up the bezzle

Hanukah is getting hip


He had a sensitivity chip missing

Jesus dressed in cellophane in lights

weirdness in code

the gloves are back

I am separated from my concerns


She has 100 songs in her top 50

It fits with her need to have two of everything

This is a plus for us

temporary humans

hanging out in Haliburton Hummers



He had to break the law to get to god

Riding bicycles in the mansion

Hacking up the yellow stuff too

I got under both my blankets

That was my last conscious thing


My mind needs prompts

I got some good zip codes

I need reassurance from

     the dead Jesus downstairs


Do not blow smoke up my ass


I lost my gloves when the car blew up

You have to be careful with your food source

The republican party, jesus and all that

Sneaky smart rat

Rudely ripped away from purring bodies


Anxious tag wailing

Seven days of birthday

The stubborn crisis

Caring about my fellow man tires me out


We can close


Starving to death around piles of vinyl

A random piece of snow flies at me



                                      WeBiLo   2-8-09

thought for today

If you can’t say it in haiku it’s too many words.

The new ants didn’t come today

Start drinking beer & start yr evening

crack infested children

winged wheelchair

Oprah reveals her weight


Can I not tell the future?

The voice is cracking

like the hair is cracking

Boring numbers tasks

a salad martini


Scrotum — it’s not on the list

I think someone else perspired

judgmental poet

something viral going on

in the you tube of my mind


I can sit here & play

with my Prismacolor all day

I have an obligation to be diligent.

Catholics have the illusion

that they understand sin*

the proper gays who hold

sanitized fundraisers

store sperm

purse & boots

warm notebooks


error in deleting


Someone’s egg smells like perspiration

premature exiting

insulating glass

puke on the carpet growing stuff


We’re everywhere —

women with our little pocket notebooks


If she has shiny red shoes

she must have plans

high wire walking squirrel

the other skyline in town

canine cattle beef bone monster femur

I set some parameters

& turn myself loose.


Women wandering in traffic

banging computer boy


dead pansies

marginalize       vilify

obese white trash data

Enough of the right things

to claim it makes sense.


I need to keep my tail clean

& kick my ass.

There’s a gaping hole

where the bear used to be.

Changing the subject around the egg issue

Don’t let my East side DNA come out!

Beer & movies make it a little better.

If you don’t like it,

I understand.

WeBiLo 2-1-09

* Nick Traekner

thought for today

You’ll walk away from this thinking I’m well read, well traveled or insane and the meds are working today.


Big paw Louie

queen on a barstool

brownie for a year.

Until you kneel down on the tile in this skirt

you’ll never know what a saint is


I have sick breath

She has a spiritual advisor, homeopath & naturopath on standby


You know me as a blond

He’s just a hungry skunk

trying to get back to the 4th dimension

Eating police

The audacity of hype


Depends on perspective whether it’s a suburb

little tight units

duck billed platypus

the sound of the flea

crunching between the fingernails

incarcerated cats on virginal turf


I can see the UHaul on the horizon

Song like a painting

sniff the purse

He let the fish win.


The bailouts are getting scarier & scarier

WordPress & godaddy talk to each other

Dead space on dead man’s curve

True believing kitties


I’m as confused as I ever was

but now I’m confused on a much higher level


This is a no-brainer —

there are two kinds of people,

size queens

and those who are in denial

about being size queens

I rely on my inner jock


Saturday morning multitask queen

He was kinda weirded out by it

smashed & skewered rat going for his weiner

They measured with a yardstick

Gutter balls


Finesse clown,

exact profile of somebody who,

if he drank enough,

would get a few felonious assaults

Do you really think so?


It wants to break

trenchant expository

photographs sullied by intermingling.

Mental illness —

they say it like it’s a bad thing.

I hear it all in my head —


The audacity of hope


Cinnamon sticks make me think

little puppy dog eyes

Hot chocolate anniversary

It’s a small cue

spooning rice

getting all the bad stuff out


I’m learning to give people their own perspective

a part of me that’s real

chubby little bullet


wraparound doggie

(everyone has size issues)



I like canning, handling the harvest

feel it traveling thru yr hands,

down thru yr legs

to the ground

I like it when you’re standing in pumps.








thought for today

a self-actualized glass of vodka

I’m missing a Bob


History as a picture story
Middle class angst
They look like the type
of folks who would push the Button

The mistake that some women make
they simply give birth
they don’t nurture, raise it, steward . . .
(bacon should have pecans)

I don’t know the rules —
should I start writing them down?

Church of DOG
No country should fear religious freedom
Seize the bone
Chew the moment
Beauty tips for the drunk

Fat free scares me
Scaffolding always gets me hot
I’m cool like that

An oversized flat screen world
Eat pay & get the fuck out
I’m not sticking things up my nose
Sport pencil
Pure water drool
The mother of all boards
Playing to both sides of the window

I’m missing a bob

She had a weakness for controlling angry men
You just need one bust
They can give birth
but they can’t let go

He faded toward me
I gave it the gas
he flinched & went off on the berm
This is my option.

Beef & beer — an American tradition
we won’t give up

Thinking critically of the subsets —
We do have suburban friends
Contact sober
Scrambled hard
Binnacle — a term still used today.

The thought of having fun makes me nauseous.
Everyone needs Teddy in troubled times.
Cats doing laps
FUN low pressure dates

Beef ‘n cheddar does not look good
on a 42″ flat screen —
test marketers should catch that

themeless harvesting
Nominally competent for my own purposes

A big old girl love in
I’m not the man —
I’m not in charge


Derivatively Derivative

Haiku victory
Seven syllable moment
And then five again




I dream of wheat pennies
it goes in the hamper with ball gag
Ninety minute Hollywood Happy
Families depending on Disney

The chair wants space
ultimate affluent bull shit time
peeling paint and gutters
Art on the ground
after they duped me in
Robert Frost and nature

There’s nothing more arrogant
than a third year law student
slated to get raided
penises on the windowsill
Profit from their dying

It sucks that we wait until people are dead
Years of service
We’re committed to you

Drool doggie
The guy parks his Harley
outside the Ugly Broad Saloon
Early on a Sunday morning

We are complete

dominant paradigm
White man grin
buckets in the rain

tuna used to be such a great staple
it went boom with the peacenik thing
winter stacking, stacking for winter
Color me silly
I want my space

Life sized plastic pig
community forum
crinkly ceiling
an alternate Chris Franke universe
where red is green

Mr. Gay and his black tie boyfriend
no touch automatic
department store dream
department store lighting
May Co. blue carpet

Standoffish bitch

I had a fever
He had a lot of the proper stuff going on
What else can you do in China
except drink in a Tex-Mex restaurant
Trying to relive the one moment when you were almost cool

Thank you for shopping

She tends to be empirical
cum belching whore
– they have an outside
closing time
I just scored again

How old were you when you first moved home
Lay it out
There are good poems
and there are poems that I like

Overcome the power unit
drinking tea for beer
anxiety reduces
27 more minutes of it

Are we there yet?
one word
two continents

WeBiLo June 29, 2008

meat eaters

snot nosed white kids
smacked heavily on the boards
doggie goes home

she just follows me
skinny ass white girl
tattoo Americana panther
pure great juice

breakfast special —
little did we know
Aesop was a mole for the government
organizing beans
learning to cut —
he was a nice guy

words go right by us

you are the master of your tail
fag hag, gold spike, coffee

I knelt on the tile floor in this skirt
that’s when I knew
sausage was the second meat

I’m tired of being the object
babes under babes
steamed yucca
Mother’s Day flowers

Identify with the dog
Whine to your husband
Sleep with anybody
Pretend we’re normal
like all the other aliens
magically American

Let me be more specific
I am a parabola
I deflect
I am a mirror
I’m turning into a suburban girl

the dog raises his eyebrow
he’s concerned
we’re shipping the money to Mexicco
we’re women who know what we want
we want the breakfast special


beginnings . . .

Two distinct voices joined to form one.

An exploration into the creative spirit force that exists in each of us that becomes but a third spirit, a separate and unique voice when the two become one. That voice can only thrive when both are allowed to fully exist as oneself thereby bringing completely to the table oneself to be joined in the process.

Respect of each voice for the other is mandatory to the integrity of the process.

http://webilo.wordpress..com is where the WeBilo run free, and seldom is heard a discouraging word, for at WeBiLo weblog criticism is offered as insight not insult.

This website is dedicated to that spirit.