Following is a poem that artmunow wrote for me, using bits of entries i wrote, rearranged and put back together. there were two, but i like this one the best. :P the other, can be found here.
CHEERS DUDE!! :D
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1.

she wonders if i’ll ever find a home on a wall, or get to fuck some
really good art that’s already hung – i know that curling up in her
mellows me, but i’m hugely purple and that’s scary – and my face
doesn’t always work; it stops time when i eat a muffin’s silk -

i actually panic, like i’m gonna be recognized as just a bunch
of puter-bits, and not a quiet art formed without answers to
big questions – but i think i’ve found myself, or at least painted
my self into a corner where art ranges free, and numbers are just
symbol-shapes drawn from imaginary, sometimes alarming facts -

those are the things that dance our space away in response to music,
so i’ve given the day an ultimatum: close your mind, and open all
of our identities, because they can’t…and be the question that fucks
with the academics.