He jumped in to join the pool
to savor his father’s tastes
simple mints and salty beer
nuts, pickled pig knuckles.
After the pool emptied
he reflected sentimentally
on hairs caught in the trap
they pulled up with the snake.
essays, poems, comics – since 2007
He jumped in to join the pool
to savor his father’s tastes
simple mints and salty beer
nuts, pickled pig knuckles.
After the pool emptied
he reflected sentimentally
on hairs caught in the trap
they pulled up with the snake.
Scamble: Where did these lemons come from?
Cramble: This is the way they play pool in Southern California.
Scamble: I thought they were having a drought.
Cramble: The shooter is called a “Willy.” The Willy takes lime in hand and places it wherever he wants within the dish of billeted lemons, turns around, and pokes the lime at one of the lemons, using the shaft of his stiffened tail as a cue stick, attempting to push the lemon out of the dish, at which point he is awarded another “Willy.” When all of the lemons are in this manner poked out of the dish, the players celebrate with a glass of lemonade.
Scamble: I notice there are nine balls.
Cramble: Yes, this particular game is known as “Nein Ball.”
Scamble: But one of the balls is the lime ball.
Cramble: Yes, that’s the cue lime, also know as the green ball.
Scamble: But if the lime green ball is the cue ball, that leaves only eight balls.
Cramble: Yes, you can also play “Eight Ball.” Most shots are called slop shots. There is no penalty for scratching, as long as you keep your scratching to yourself. If you scratch your opponent, that is called a “Zoe,” and you must put a lemon back in the dish.
Scamble: I never knew pool was so much like poetry.
Press yes to play here | the balls fall for free | hear them drop and roll | english orb orbit | for texting eddies | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
no to go away | in pool hall heaven | chalk up your cue stick | break like a big bang | syllabicating | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
maybe to come back | no need for quarters | green felt of grass field | consider the balls | men who cut their tongues | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
some day some day soon | 8 ball in corner | in the universe | across the table | gaming without words | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
tonight not that moon | pocket that was quick | full of dandelions | stars stripes black and cue | ball white as the moon | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
semiquantitatively | microdirectionally | yet who can’t get no no no | unsatisfactorily | twisting down the back alley | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
sociodemographic | ideologically | seven syllable word count | so what is the so what here | pseudointellectual | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
imperceptibility | suspicion grows this is all | pseudopoetically | irresponsibility | what can I say you reading | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
waxing then waning away | autobiographical | compartmentalization | social media neither | social nor mediational ideas | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
unsystematically | superficiality | huge lack of self confidence | just give us the artifice | we’ll know what to do with it | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
without rhyme or reasoned sense | oversimplification | he likes unconventional | individuality | cosmopolitanism | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
syllables all connected | he seems influenced by John Cage | and that explains anything | we seem to be moving to | microcommunication | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
We appeal to fruit | the nature within | seeds meat juice and skin | figuratively | and then the real fig | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
banana orange | grape raisin ugli | miracle passion | fruit worms flies mildew | self-preservation | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
and vegetables | puritanism | free love free fruit gloss | dogs and cats and kids | seal it with a kiss | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
cherry red pepper | baked raspberry pie | apple cloudberry | running toward the surf | rub it in your palm | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
garlic and onions | coconut olive | oils and buttery | fat when it is cold | now back to the sea |
Press yes to play here the balls fall for free hear them drop and roll english orb orbit for texting eddies
no to go away in pool hall heaven chalk up your cue stick break like a big bang syllabicating
maybe to come back no need for quarters green felt of grass field consider the balls men who cut their tongues
some day some day soon 8 ball in corner in the universe across the table gaming without words
tonight not that moon pocket that was quick full of dandelions stars stripes black and cue ball white as the moon
semiquantitatively microdirectionally yet who can’t get no no no unsatisfactorily twisting down the back alley
sociodemographic ideologically seven syllable word count so what is the so what here pseudointellectual
imperceptibility suspicion grows this is all pseudopoetically irresponsibility what can I say you are right
waxing then waning away autobiographical compartmentalization social media neither social nor mediational ideas
unsystematically superficiality huge lack of self confidence just give us the artifice we’ll know what to do with it
without rhyme or reasoned sense oversimplification he likes unconventional individuality cosmopolitanism
syllables all connected he seems influenced by John Cage and that explains anything we seem to be moving to microcommunication
We appeal to fruit the nature within seeds meat juice and skin figuratively and then the real fig
banana orange grape raisin ugli miracle passion fruit worms flies mildew self-preservation
and vegetables puritanism free love free fruit gloss dogs and cats and kids seal it with a kiss
cherry red pepper baked raspberry pie apple cloudberry running toward the surf rub it in your palm
garlic and onions coconut olive oils and buttery fat when it is cold now back to the sea
Press yes to play here the balls fall for free hear them drop and roll english orb orbit for texting eddies no to go away in pool hall heaven chalk up your cue stick break like a big bang syllabicating maybe to come back no need for quarters green felt of grass field consider the balls men who cut their tongues some day some day soon 8 ball in corner in the universe across the table gaming without words tonight not that moon pocket that was quick full of dandelions stars stripes black and cue ball white as the moon semiquantitatively microdirectionally yet who can’t get no no no unsatisfactorily twisting down the back alley sociodemographic ideologically seven syllable word count so what is the so what here pseudointellectual imperceptibility suspicion grows this is all pseudopoetically irresponsibility what can I say you are right waxing then waning away autobiographical compartmentalization social media neither social nor mediational ideas unsystematically superficiality huge lack of self confidence just give us the artifice we’ll know what to do with it without rhyme or reasoned sense oversimplification he likes unconventional individuality cosmopolitanism syllables all connected he seems influenced by John Cage and that explains anything we seem to be moving to microcommunication We appeal to fruit the nature within seeds meat juice and skin figuratively and then the real fig banana orange grape raisin ugli miracle passion fruit worms flies mildew self-preservation and vegetables puritanism free love free fruit gloss dogs and cats and kids seal it with a kiss cherry red pepper baked raspberry pie apple cloudberry running toward the surf rub it in your palm garlic and onions coconut olive oils and buttery fat when it is cold now back to the sea