30 October 2008
26 October 2008
burning ears
furthermore why must everything always be so serious? most words don't have meaning and most songs are about nothing. you're half my size yet you're twice as heavy because you fill your blood and your brain with lead until you can hardly move. everyone wants to blame the world for their burden i can't stand the self pity. i married a pessimist, slept with a nihilist, held hands with a narcissist, bled from a fatalist, and laughed with an absurdist. i would love to meet a casual optimist.
open book
revealing all your secrets to a complete stranger washed our stars a dull gray, now i'm barely convinced that i am the exception it all seems more like circumstance. how can your words carry any weight if you are so quick to confess where you come from and where you're going to anyone who will listen at a drunken halloween party? your mystery melted quicker than ice cream on black pavement. caution flew back in the window on a broom last night. nobody wants to date an open book; tales are treasures that ought to be earned. for example:
" 'Why would you swear when I say I love you, Father?'
'You're the man who stands on a street corner with a roll of toilet paper, and written on each square are the words, I love you. And each passer-by, no matter who, gets a square all his or her own. I don't want my square of toilet paper'
'I didn't realize it was toilet paper'
'Until you stop drinking, you're not going to realize anything!' "
[God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater]
" 'Why would you swear when I say I love you, Father?'
'You're the man who stands on a street corner with a roll of toilet paper, and written on each square are the words, I love you. And each passer-by, no matter who, gets a square all his or her own. I don't want my square of toilet paper'
'I didn't realize it was toilet paper'
'Until you stop drinking, you're not going to realize anything!' "
[God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater]
13 October 2008
patience
the end of a long winter when the snow froze all the parasites and the plants were free to grow anew. its easy to get wrapped up in you, i'll let you sleep in my bed if you promise to play drums for me. if my dove flies away i've still left the rest behind, holding freedom for the very first time in the past 5 years thank god- i pray this color will not fade nor paint your face a fleeting shade most definitely impossible to erase fortunate i'm a widow bathing in a meadow of freedom and simplicity far away from the storm front careful not to lose my peace
when I see their faces
it makes me laugh. no one knows how happy they make me and if they did they'd think i was crazy.
03 October 2008
01 October 2008
sweep me up
tired of her dull life and the assholes upstairs, Lucy stole an old space ship from the Townsville airport to go visit her father. last she heard he was heading towards the brink870 galaxy to sail alongside the manatanooses on planet Gomphtek. the manatanooses looked like 50 ton potatoes with whiskers but travelers claimed they made noises more beautiful than angel music.
22 September 2008
up for sale
the urgency to leave this town continues to snowball. the people ive spent the most time with over the past three years are the people i should have avoided from the start. i don't believe a thing they say,downtown, midtown, two blocks away, each in their own dome, they are all full of shit. i drove over train tracks and wished this saga would end once and for all and that i could heed my mentor's words before i lose another year of my life on the same assholes. drugs help a little but gin only makes it worse.
12 September 2008
3. Freedom Fries
"Today I worked an entire shift without eating any french fries."
-Lucy
Lucy waited tables at a local cafe near her university. To work there, you had to have a really big attitude, a really cool tattoo, or armpit hair. She only worked night shifts because she was attending classes during the day. Three men frequented the cafe painting the rainbow of alcoholism. First there was the nameless, homeless, drunken hobo with a cowboy hat. He would come in hootin' and hollerin' and cursing everyone to hell; the kitchen boys would have to kick him out of restaurant every time. Then there was Jim. He'd sit at the bar and drink 3 pitchers of Bud Light and order a plate of celery and and carrots. Jim would flirt with the waitresses and insult the customers.
"May I have a styrofoam cup so I can take my glass of wine to go?" asked Lucy's female customer.
"Sure" said Lucy, "I'll be right back".
"What a lush" mumbled Jim at the bar.
"SHHHH!!" said Lucy, "Someone might hear you".
Another night, Jim threw a wild card out for bait and Lucy asked him where he came up with such nonsense. Without hesitation, he answered "ether." Jim believed that we are all human and neither race nor religion surpassed humanity. He called himself a Darwinist and with all drunken conviction rallied for camaraderie as the underlying theme of evolution. Lucy played the devils advocate and asked "what about competition?" She was a biology major but she knew that Jim was onto something.
Larry came in every night at 6:30 since 1978 and drank two pitchers of beer. The first pitcher of Budweiser, the next one served as two halfway. He only drank out of a small cup so his beer wouldn't get warm. He sat right in front of the fan, except when it rained. Lucy would chat with him while Larry criticized the absurdities of Townsville before the dinner rush hit. Larry pointed out the escort service the fat capitalist was running out of his building next door. He stared in silence when the alumni strolled by in their alma mater "uniforms" of maroon and gold on their way to the football game.
"Why do they glorify a child? He's a kid, not a gladiator" Larry demanded to know.
"Because they need someone to believe in" said Lucy.
Until he was thirty, Larry drove potato chips bags in trucks across America . Then he became a nurse in the neonatal intensive unit in the Townsville Hospital. Larry and Lucy loved to talk about Kurt Vonnegut and Denver and the shortcomings of Caribbean Nights at the Cafe. Tuesdays were always dead because the Cafe fired their steel drum band and no one knew about their 25 cent wings. The kitchen boys would come outside and smoke a cigarette and complain about how they made the special sauce for no reason because the only asshole that would come into the Cafe on a Tuesday and order the most expensive thing on the menu was the owner of the restaurant. Meanwhile Larry would collect pistachio shells in his cap and dump them in the hanging plants on his was out. The juniper plant next to the fan enjoyed the same diet as Larry for 40 years, beer and pistachios.
-Lucy
Lucy waited tables at a local cafe near her university. To work there, you had to have a really big attitude, a really cool tattoo, or armpit hair. She only worked night shifts because she was attending classes during the day. Three men frequented the cafe painting the rainbow of alcoholism. First there was the nameless, homeless, drunken hobo with a cowboy hat. He would come in hootin' and hollerin' and cursing everyone to hell; the kitchen boys would have to kick him out of restaurant every time. Then there was Jim. He'd sit at the bar and drink 3 pitchers of Bud Light and order a plate of celery and and carrots. Jim would flirt with the waitresses and insult the customers.
"May I have a styrofoam cup so I can take my glass of wine to go?" asked Lucy's female customer.
"Sure" said Lucy, "I'll be right back".
"What a lush" mumbled Jim at the bar.
"SHHHH!!" said Lucy, "Someone might hear you".
Another night, Jim threw a wild card out for bait and Lucy asked him where he came up with such nonsense. Without hesitation, he answered "ether." Jim believed that we are all human and neither race nor religion surpassed humanity. He called himself a Darwinist and with all drunken conviction rallied for camaraderie as the underlying theme of evolution. Lucy played the devils advocate and asked "what about competition?" She was a biology major but she knew that Jim was onto something.
Larry came in every night at 6:30 since 1978 and drank two pitchers of beer. The first pitcher of Budweiser, the next one served as two halfway. He only drank out of a small cup so his beer wouldn't get warm. He sat right in front of the fan, except when it rained. Lucy would chat with him while Larry criticized the absurdities of Townsville before the dinner rush hit. Larry pointed out the escort service the fat capitalist was running out of his building next door. He stared in silence when the alumni strolled by in their alma mater "uniforms" of maroon and gold on their way to the football game.
"Why do they glorify a child? He's a kid, not a gladiator" Larry demanded to know.
"Because they need someone to believe in" said Lucy.
Until he was thirty, Larry drove potato chips bags in trucks across America . Then he became a nurse in the neonatal intensive unit in the Townsville Hospital. Larry and Lucy loved to talk about Kurt Vonnegut and Denver and the shortcomings of Caribbean Nights at the Cafe. Tuesdays were always dead because the Cafe fired their steel drum band and no one knew about their 25 cent wings. The kitchen boys would come outside and smoke a cigarette and complain about how they made the special sauce for no reason because the only asshole that would come into the Cafe on a Tuesday and order the most expensive thing on the menu was the owner of the restaurant. Meanwhile Larry would collect pistachio shells in his cap and dump them in the hanging plants on his was out. The juniper plant next to the fan enjoyed the same diet as Larry for 40 years, beer and pistachios.
06 September 2008
2. townsville, usa
" alfred is my roommate. we first met when i came back from working a night shift covered in dill and ketchup. i opened the shower curtain to hop in for a quick rinse and out of the curtain ran a hairy black spider, resembling a small tarantula with red lines on its back. i spent an hour looking for the fuzzy criminal in my apartment but he was nowhere to be found; i gave up looking for him because i wasn't sure if he was real or if i had imagined him so instead i named him Alfred. we agreed not to bother each other. my other roommate, karen, was never home because she had an internship on planet SIX2000 working for the Chief Adminstrator of the Bureau of Historical Accounts. karen managed the chief's files and brought him coffee until the sun went down and they would screw all night. i pretended not to notice because i enjoyed parading men through my apartment at will and using her dining room table for pouring cement and rolling joints.
i hated the couple that lived above me. i was learning how to play drums and i played the trumpet in my high school band. they hated me too, they would jump up and down on the floor and my ceiling would shake and the lights would flicker. my father phoned from the bo-OH-te3z0 galaxy where he was sailing the orbit of the Lockey comet. he was constantly afraid of danger. he wanted to know if i had become a rock star yet. i explained to him that i lived below two angry elephants and i could only practice my instruments when they were fucking and they couldn't hear above the headboard banging against the dry wall. he was outraged and suggested poison gas."
i hated the couple that lived above me. i was learning how to play drums and i played the trumpet in my high school band. they hated me too, they would jump up and down on the floor and my ceiling would shake and the lights would flicker. my father phoned from the bo-OH-te3z0 galaxy where he was sailing the orbit of the Lockey comet. he was constantly afraid of danger. he wanted to know if i had become a rock star yet. i explained to him that i lived below two angry elephants and i could only practice my instruments when they were fucking and they couldn't hear above the headboard banging against the dry wall. he was outraged and suggested poison gas."
02 September 2008
31 August 2008
throw water on it
i'm hiding from this town in this town and everybody keeps saying your name these walls are closing every time they talk
26 August 2008
13 August 2008
pKa -10
when i was twelve years old i had these warts on the bottom of my foot. i tried duct tape, homeopathic remedies, the works, and they wouldn't go away. i let a doctor try to freeze them off with liquid nitrogen but a year of cryotherapy didn't get rid of them. finally, they were so fucking obnoxious that i let this doctor cut them off with a scalpel after sticking 10 needles into the bottom of my foot. after 2 weeks of not being able to walk or sleep because of the nerve damage done, the doctor lamented to tell me the warts were coming back. FUCK!!! so i said, fuck this doctor, he's no good, i'm going to try something else. i went to another doctor that a friend recommended, and he tried to burn the warts off with some extremely concentrated acid. one day the doctor used too much acid and it dripped down the side of my foot all the way to the front leaving a 2nd degree burn and an 8 inch scar on my right tootsy. so i said FUCK THIS, fuck these doctors, i have to get rid of this shit myself and i went to the pharmacy, bought the strongest o.t.c. acid i could find, and nuked the shit out of the devils on the bottom of my foot everyday for almost two months. i couldn't walk sometimes, i couldn't sleep sometimes, bits of previously applied acid would frequently meet with a nerve ending sending excruciating pain up my leg and straight to my brain, and i didn't care how bad it hurt as long as those fucking warts wouldn't come back. my mom always felt bad for me because i was limping, but i told her it was no big deal, that i was temporarily engaged in chemical warfare with a nasty virus but i was positive i would win. well, now its been over 10 years, i still have the scars on the top and bottom of my foot to show for my victory and suddenly i realize that certain people in my life have become like these warts and other nastier people are the acid, and if it wasn't for their repetitive causticity i might still be screwing the warts.
09 August 2008
07 August 2008
02 August 2008
dear john
your message made my day. also, i am looking for freedom, ethics, and the little prince, do they have those out west? i'd like to stay out there with you.
24 July 2008
chamomile pines
everyones off flying solo through mangroves and mountains sending messages back home. the doers the chasers the dreamers, the ones who get excited, beaming with elation and wonder, they are so alive abandoning chains and committing to spontaneity. i find solace in their freedom and chastity links their success in an unlikely way; happy, peaceful, pioneers, reliable, adventurous, well-read and untame, they are the one-way ticket youth.
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