jim christ


cafe' oceans

oceans of it brewed
and sipped religiously
when mornings never were
without its aroma, wafting.

years of daybreaks when
watched italian octagons
aluminiumed o'er licking flames
until the spill of deep cafe'

dawns croissants would never
be without our steamy friend.
early cigarettes ne'er coiled smoke
without its vapors near.

now, tobacco is a memory
except for once a moon or so.
green tea and I six days a week
fill time and cups 'til sundays' tide and

jet fuel waves of dark cafe'.


easter cancelled

while the homeless
of the world wake
in newspapers and cardboard
while men kill men
on the sands of the mideast
an old man in white silk
under a fish hat
mirrored in marble
does a Sistine shuffle
limps across vatican floors
from empty rooms
to empty rooms
through ages of echos
carrying infallible weight
and a knowledge that negates it all
-they've found the body


elizabeth 88

elizabeth came to me
and I to her inside a winter
that never ended
and never was
but comes round now and then

bessy sang and spoke in riddles
while I talked through clear thin air
conversations of red roses
and empty crystal vases
blooms that never end and then

lizzie broke and sent me silence
as spring was turning round the mountain
days were endless lingering
without even yet beginning
becoming now and then again.


horses mouth

load's heavy this week,
that one wild hair's sticking up.
reminds me
time to depart
the usual grind

it was only 10 am,
the workday had
barely started
so I smoothed it
a little.

they'd know something
was up if I combed
the whole mop
(it's usually tousled).

smiled at the chief
and asked very clearly
if I could have some time off well.


smiled again and explained,

"there are no appointments scheduled after 12,
and I could waste it (the afternoon)
much better than you would
(and give up half a vacation day)."

he smiles back,
slowly tells me,
I like this much better
than when
you called in well."

maybe it's the phone
that gets in the way.


jim christ

all things considered
(theotherside) audio
     author is currently a technical illustrator/graphic artist of northern california. he was born in New York and moved to Los Angeles in the mid 60's. After adolescence in LA and a tour in the Air Force, max relocated to San Francisco and then Sonoma County where he started a serigraphy studio and service as well as jobbing at everything from construction to truck-driving. As founder and manager of Wild Boar Productions, Jim promoted and produced Truck Competitions and Shows as well as musical events in small and large venues in the wine country of northern California as well as contributing studio work and graphix. Has been described as an ocean that's only six inches deep.

     At this time is assembling a body of work in linocut and woodcut in preparation for a show at the California Museum of Fine Art in Santa Rosa (this is going very slowly).

     When Jim isn't working, he's usually scribbling down these little groups of symbols that somehow paint the edges of this thing called life.

climbmax aka jim christ

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