The beerbox haiku project was actually what started this blog, and though I did finish writing 1000 haiku, the first step of the project, and sifted out the best ones to put on reshaped cardboard beer boxes, and picked out the matching pilfered over the decades magazine pictures all the same size to put on the boxes as well, to create three-paneled wall hangings after installing grommets and connecting with brass chain, I never did finish up the assembly line. There's still about 20 boxes that need to be made, then those plus another 25 or so that need to be triple polyurethaned, and then really the entire project for the most part needs to have the grommet/brass chain bit done to it. I did finish about the first five, to get an idea of how it would look, and it looks fucked. They hang about 6 or 7 feet tall, and about a foot wide, and when done I'd have approximately 180 panels, which breaks down to about 60 of these giant three-paneled wall hangings. It would make for a great installation of retard art should I ever get it done. Well this year I shall, so that next spring at the latest, this bizarre and slightly disturbing (the amount of beer I drank to get those boxes alone is bothersome, and probably why my lower back aches all the time) shall hang in some sort of venue, for strangers to come around and look at and judge its merit, and for my friends and family to get invited to, look at, and be impressed but also probably shocked by just how intensely retardedly creatively fucked my brain actually is. But they'll smile and be cool, because that's how family and friends roll... they'd rather the world break your heart and dreams down into painful memories than they do it. And in the process, they teach you that you can't trust them, so that when the world does break you down, you feel you have nowhere to turn. So you end up writing 1000 haiku and scribbling them on empty 12-pack boxes you accumulate in your camper some gypsy jewish lady left on your land.
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