The proprietor of this site also did some creative-type things included, listed, or linked on the right column of this page.  Prior fake names used include J.S. van Buskirk, jasvanb, sherocket, and, now, certifiedprepwn3d.  No claim is made as to whether anything included, listed, or linked on this page is actually art.  It certainly isn't competently formatted.

 Pruntiforms published in Moria Poetry Journal as part of a group submission with the Atlanta Poets Group.  The one about how my cat has a red stripey suit underneath his fur is the best one, and one of my favorite pieces - scroll all the way down, past the one about canteloup and the one about people in my building who I enjoyed believing were undercover government agents. 

Pruntiforms on the subject of pigeons published in Ratsalad Deluxe. 

Another pruntiform published in Ratsalad Deluxe. The link has a suitable photograph of a fine establishment and its puzzling pronouncement.

Assorted other pruntiforms not "published" anywhere.  New ones added recently.

Two poems from back in the days of going to meetings with the Atlanta Poets group, maybe four or so years ago.

Here is another new oneAnd another.  I am very pleased with the new-to-me Malayan poem form "pantoum" - here is another new one: it is about trees.

An Infinite Variety of Similar Things.  My favorites are #12, #55, and especially #18.  Many of them are not as good as they could be, but in a collaboration it is often necessary to just stop where you are and not go back and fix things.  Someone else liked number 56 pretty well, also.

 What are they doing in your house?
 Everything is slightly tilted.
The proprietor of this website founded INFO DEMO, and then passed the torch of that fine variety show to the excellent Terra McVoy and Christopher Stevens.  You can see the show at eyedrum every other month or so.
written years ago. 
There might still be some packs of OPOYUL~ trading cards in an art-o-mat machine somewhere.  A-and! There might be some new ones for keeping NOT TRADING hidden somewhere in this country, not today, not tomorrow, but soon, and for the rest of your life -- if you live in one of five or six lucky cities and are liable to pocket things in bookstores.

There are some other things - poem type, notes, short texts, along with some drawings.  Some of those things might be added to this list later.  There is a newish and very elaborate pruntiform over on the Home Page now.



this might be the only poem I ever wrote:

Some fool painted the white dogwoods red
risking his neck in strange endeavor.
Shame I could not catch him at it -
Knave-like, waving paint around,
and risking a spill-
Coaxing Spring from Winter branches,
knowing full well open flowers fall more easily than buds.

I sit with my queen-like heart
and this scene is sweet like chocolate
melting on a tea-burnt tongue.

So I smile, to think a jack might do this
and risk his neck to please me.



A graphic novel titled "The Thrilling Days of Yesteryear" about how the Lone Ranger is actually a werewolf hunter.  Otherwise, the silver bullets make absolutely no sense.  This project made it as far as a reasonably detailed write-up of the origin story and a potential first episode.  I am not a good artist, not good enough for this.  Tried a couple of times to get with different artists, and then the project stalled.

A graphic novel entitled "50 Running Dead Men" about domestic animals taking revenge on a representative sampling of men for the abuse routinely suffered by animals.  This project got as far as several months of dedicated viewing of Animal Cops and a reasonably detailed write up.  Not many artists do animals really well.The way the victims are selected is this:
A late night radio call in show solicits listeners to answer trivia questions, and to bet their own belongings on getting the answers right.
A listener bets and loses all his belongings, laughs it off, and passes out confident it is all a joke.  Returning home the next day, he finds everything is gone.  While he stares around in bewilderment, a Great Dane dog comes in and drops a note in his doorway.  The note has an address where he can recover his belongings.
The listener goes to the address, only to be captured in a cage with a number of other men.  Things proceed from there to a Survivor-type race cross country, under attack from cats and dogs (and other animals).  Anyone who makes it to the end gets their stuff back.
By the way - the raccoons organized the whole thing, and the listener ends up selling all his belongings, going vegan, shaving his body hair, and working fanatically at an animal shelter and rescue organization.

The Synthetic Memory Project - An official-looking mailing and an online questionnaire solicited information from all about someone they knew but no longer know anything about.  A white male, born in the US between 1968 and 1974.  I was interviewed about this project on a local radio show and actually accumulated about 50 completed questionnaires.  At that point, a rough calculation convinced me I would need more than 200 for the project to work.
The ultimate goal was to write a biography of a non-existent person that was in fact true, by stitching together all of the details from the questionnaires.
Stalled, going on about 10 years now - most of the completed questionnaires are in my possession, but many of the online ones were inadvertently destroyed by a third party during some unauthorized email access.

Short Films - Other people should make these so I can see them.  Filming things requires a lot of energy and interactions with other people.  One involves a tied-up person being pushed around on a hand-truck.  One is about hold-music that must be performed live by low-budget businesses.  One is about a guy who sits in the bathtub while all his room-mates go to the bar to meet women.  One is about a game of tag between two commuters on slightly different schedules that starts accidentally and ends up lasting for years.  I thought of most of these in the early '90s, and have been waiting for the right film crew to magically appear. 

As far as the desire to perform in films goes - the terror outweighs the appeal, but it would be cool to get to be in:  (1)  a beautifully costumed ballroom dance routine up and down a spiral staircase, with stair-steps that light up when I step on them; (2) a really good fight scene involving kicking people in the head; (3) pretty much anything sci-fi that has a good costume; (4) super powers.  I have mentally written a role for myself in the next Firefly movie that covers most of these.  NOTE:  This comment does not properly belong here, but including it slightly increases the chance that one of these things will happen.

Outside: "I thought it would be funny if I punched you . . ."; Inside: "It wasn't.  I'm sorry."
Outside: "Great Work, Pal!!"; Inside: "And, fuck you."