Wednesday, July 30, 2008

brighter lights

This was our honeymoon in Vegas. Even after a 6 1\2 hour flight she wasn't going to stay a hotel room for very long. She wore a pretty summer dress and matching panties underneath. colored hearts, same as the heart-shaped buttons on her dress.

we drank , played black jack and pulled slots into the night. Yes, there were neon lights, the bells and whistles, white tigers and Elvis's. There were brides and grooms and shrimp cocktails all over the place. If you threw up skittles on the gaudy casino rug you couldn't have telled. but that's what you stay for, not to sit in your room make slow love to your wife. You got all of forever to do that. At least that's what she told me.

You do it Vegas style baby.., she said slurring her words. So later on we made a made sex tape in the back of a cab. I tipped the driver\camera man 50 bucks, not just for his steady camera hand, but as compensation for having to put up with her shrill coyote howls and asking him to put fingers in her mouth while i was pounding her from behind. who knows where her mouth has been?

I lost her on the strip sometime in the night and she was married to someone else by early dawn. she said she was sorry and pretty sure it wasn't legal or it was, but only in Vegas.

i hit a thousand dollar triple jackpot on my way to the airport. I cashed out, left the casino and took one last drag on my cigarette. Inhaling with it the dry desert heat. I needed to get back to my own heat, the heat I'm familiar with, used to, back in South Florida. The way things work around here is we tell it like it is unless you tell me otherwise. we have no secrets.

So what?It's not like she was a serial killer. I felt the fat wad of crumpled money bulging in my front pocket. Was it a hard-on or the 3 g's that i won?. I reached inside and felt deep until i hit bottom. I pulled out a little heart shaped button.

Oh lordie, that girl look goooooood in that summer dress. Wow. 3 grand!. my little polygamist wife is gonna be so happy. I popped the button in my mouth and swallowed it like a red skittle. I called it a wash and boarded the plane.

high wire hypotenuse

love of the heart
over lust of the

i woke up and felt brand new.
when it was that I knew i finally grew up. when i knew i healed.
it was when
i was happy for her. honestly
and truly.
beaming. glowing. safely. calmly. sighing.
fucking happy.
it's when
I knew
I must have also
loved her.

Monday, July 28, 2008

lock and chain

sugar you don't
melt in my mouth
like you used to

like you're used to
loving you better
loving you always

but loving you more?

the word
her name
audible sound
sparkly paint
and chrome

and the taste
in my mouth more
like rust than cake
more like
like blood
than candy

all our dirty choked
up grounded down
and buried

now is it easier for you
to sleep?

left out in the rain
chain sticks
but the wheels keep
only slowly
only with more effort
was it you
who made this harder

Saturday, July 26, 2008

I see myself as a shiny and unique snow flake

i see myself as an airline pilot or court reporter, or run- away husband.
A disney world ride operator, ice-cream scooper, candy maker, nothing where I would have to smoke cigarettes, or shoot up drugs or wear a beater up tank-top outside my trailer in the summer sun.

you know it would be some kind of work where I look outside a large french window into puffy white clouds or grey stormy skies. maybe snow, maybe even winter. As long as it's good , as long as you're good to me. I'll be good to you. I think I'm going to keep my promises. I see myself, and I never thought I'd write so much about this one thing. but, you know there's always just this one thing.
I saw myself wearing a gun, but it's to late for that. the midnight western shows are over.
I saw myself making music, making porno love, making monster movies, making waves, crashing cars and getting scars with you.

I see myself riding in your car. Don't tell me it doesn't smell like ashtray and air freshener.
Don't tell me I can do anything I want to if i set my mind to it. That it's not to late. It's far to late. But there are other things i can do, just as important. I can start by telling the truth. No. not that the first time I went down on a girl, i vomited. that wasn't me, that was my friend and he told me he knew then, he was gay for sure.
That would do it! i said. so, is that why you always invited me over to go swimming in your pool?
No, the truth. Like I always thought when I ran out of things to say, I,d just go and make something up. But really, it's when I end up telling the truth.

I saw myself opening up letters and packages from young girls. stationary paper that smelled like bubble-gum and citrus. emails with offers of marriage with attached .jpg's further proof that
"I'm awesome, you're awesome, I know we would just get along "
or I saw myself decorating cakes,using magic-markers, making pizzas, police sniper, camera-guy, monk, dog-groomer, tire-changer, pumpkin carver, emt, x-ray tech, wine maker, travel agent, motel desk clerk, ..

All the promise was there in 3rd grade, where I, huffing elmer's glue and cutting and pasting bra ads from magazines to construction paper. An early band poster of sorts. bras and panties, nylons, and striped socks arranged like planets around the words WRETCHED HIVE. taken from Star Wars. the name of my imaginary band. A project that only warranted me a purple star (3 below a gold) from the narrow-minded, but busty, Mrs. todd.

photo credits:

Wednesday, July 23, 2008

and i was highly over-rated

Eventually something you love is going to be taken away. And then you will fall to the floor crying. And then, however much later, it is finally happening to you: you’re falling to the floor crying thinking, “I am falling to the floor crying,” but there’s an element of the ridiculous to it — you knew it would happen and, even worse, while you’re on the floor crying you look at the place where the wall meets the floor and you realize you didn’t paint it very well and when you’re having sex with your next lover on this very floor they will also notice that you didn’t paint it very well and they will think less of you for it. And then you think, “Is that sentence too long?” and then you have to hold the contradictions of sobbing uncontrollably and wondering about grammar in your head at the same time.

— Richard Siken

i never kept it hidden. myself. I never kept myself hidden.
I was always there. maybe deep okay, maybe buried down
real deep.
maybe with that body in the woods,
with those secrets,
maybe just where my heart
oh, boy - how it ever lied

but that was only because...... really now, I have no excuse.
you called me baby, I called you my baby.

now look at us. yeah do.
I'm not hiding. I/m here.
digging it all up
just to bury it back

Monday, July 21, 2008

and I am no king

my girl and me, we are driving back from the flea-market, we are hot, thirsty and hungry from walking around for about an hour in the South Florida sun.
It's lunch time and she know what I really really feel like having right now? a veggie burger from BK. I wasn't even aware they sold veggie burgers and I bet her they don't have it.

I find a BK fast, it isn't hard. We go inside and there it is on the menu. VEGGIE BURGER. She wins. So I order two, one for myself, apple chips and a diet drink on the side. Okay, I didn't get the veggie burger. I can't lie. You can clearly see in the picture the wrapper says Steakhouse burger. I haven't had fast-food in over 4 months that isn't a lie. But I figured if I didn't get fries and had the apple things it wouldn't be so bad. Anyway, I'd been wanting to try the Angus beef burger. . It's $3.99 just for the burger. (the average cost of a full combo meal) but either i was extremely famished or it was well worth it. That is a tasty burger! .
She tells me her Veggie burger is wonderful too.

When I was about to order a homeless guy walks up behind me. I'm in the so called bad part of town. over where we have the giant flea-market and drive-in. He shyly asks me for a quarter and opens his dirty hand to show me he has a dollar and some change and wants some lunch.

I reach in my pocket and give him all i had left, which was a 5. His eyes lit up. He didn't have to order from the dollar menu. he thanked me over and over and then ordered an awesome lunch.

what was this feeling i was feeling? what was this warm light that was washing over me? Am I such a fucking uncaring bastard most days, that this feeling is so new to me?. I felt so unbelievable for helping someone out, making someone feel good. I felt good. I felt alive for once doing something for someone other than me. I felt like the King of fucking Burger King.

Wine of the week: EVIL. It's a ruby red Cab. hints of berry and notes of spice. I spotted it while shopping at Whole Foods Market. I have a thing for trying to find killer twist-off wines for under 10 bucks. And I quite like this one from Australia. Admittedly, I made the purchase based on it's cliche alternative name and packaging. I had it with Stuffed Peppers and Grilled Short-ribs on Sunday.
All Photos:
Art by:

Sunday, July 20, 2008

and on Sunday she wore her summer dress

Scheherazade was so wrong; she had it all backwards. For 1001 nights, she told her king new stories to keep him interested and spare her life. But men don't want to hear stories-- they want to tell them. They want to talk; they want to hold the floor. Males want the world to listen to whatever it is they have to say. That was the single thing she learned from her dismal period of Internet dating--most men really only want to talk to someone who listens. Some want to download while others want your sympathy. Some want admiration but not as many as she had originally imagined. More often than not men just want to tell you what they're thinking or how they see the world. They prefer an appreciative audience but willingly settle for an attentive one. She realized after meeting so many men in a short period of time that the best way to start things going on a date was to give the guys a little verbal push and off they'd go--talking about themselves, their world, their take on things.

- Jonathan Carroll
I like the nights of stars. her summer dress thin and breezy hiked to her waist. Her lips on my neck as she sits close. i tell her about the salty sting of sea water and other stories. I pretend we are on a sail-boat sailing to anywhere. Anywhere but here. anywhere as long as she is with me.
we are really in bed and tomorrow there is work. but I tell her this and this and that. until she closes her eyes. she sleeps now, but I still talk only in whispers. listen. this our happily ever after. As close as it gets. real or pretend. stars and moon and shiny rings.

audrey kawasaki

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

Why won't you stay? , why won't you come?

one summer, just before school starts back up. i meet her while working at the Publix grocery store. she was this cute hippie girl with dreads, braids and plastic objects twisted and tied up into her hair.

I was running the front-end of the store. Ordering around bag-boys and calling on cashiers who'd rather block the shelving (moving things from back to front) then to actually be checking at the register.

A 16 year old voice cracking over the store loud-speaker. Mine. I called the girls only by their last names. like in the military. I figured to leave them with the good memories of who they once were. before the rush to lose their daddy's name, the inevitable marriages, babies and bills.
like a drill Sargent I call out the name- TRIPPER check please! or maybe it's BEAN to the front-code blue!. I wondered why the management let kids run the store? I don't know. But i was happy to do it.
The hippie girl with the gum-machine toys hanging from her hair. she drove a CUSTOM VAN. I thought it was more than rad. When I was little I wanted to grow up and drive one. In a way the Honda Element I drive around these days is probably my version of that dream come true.
Her van was a beast with a side cuteness. little heart-shaped bubble windows. Garfield the cat was air brushed on both sides and an angel tire cover on the back. The shaggy carpet and giant captain chair seats. double cassette deck, 5 speakers, and a disco ball. we could park it anywhere, anytime and fool around. She let me drive her too.

we talked about taking trips and camping and leaving our town, school, the job, this life-behind.
But I didn't often jump into things like that. I wait. I keep her waiting. I'm not as free. I'm about the job and money and things should be a certain way. they are supposed to be. dreaming is fun. but....
on the shagged cookie-monster colored carpeting we stared out of the moon roof. The south-florida night sky filled with stars and hope. In the back of the van on our backs, skin touching skin, she would say the strangest things. Out of nowhere- trippy and inspiring. The things we could do, the places we could see. She wanted it together.Me. I couldn't grasp the concept of it. together she kept saying.
I didn't see past the stars, past the moment. I just liked hearing her talk. Touching her skin. Her letting me. her saying it was okay for me to want it anyway I wanted it.
She was a cool girl. She had a Custom van for christ sake. the dreams in her head , they were so much like mine. But I waited to long. made her wait to long. the story of my life she met a guy who was willing to do more than talk about leaving, more than talk about camping around the United States. More about doing. Less about dreaming. They got married.
She sent me post-cards for several years. beautiful sunny, dusty, sandy, mountainy, post-cards from all over. her scrawling handwriting and trippy words. If you can't come, I'll show you. And she wasn't shoving it in my face, she just knew. Knew me. Knew I'd be happy for her. It could have been me. maybe. She told me once that I'd rather pretend to be somewhere then actually be there. I told her - I am here.
She pointed to my head and said.
No, you're here.

photos:4 _selfhaircuts 5-I still love you by _tefa_zozokovich

Monday, July 14, 2008

Why is abbreviated such a long word?

It's her daughters birthday. She turns 14. I go birthday shopping with them at the outdoor mall. I suggest Urban Outfitters but they go skipping off to Hot Topic. I mean she is 14 , I understand. There is nothing in there for me anymore. The clothes to dark and hip, the girls to young. The walls are full of t-shirts with bands. some i know. most I don't. Goofy looking Tripp pants with zippers and chains and well, the Gloomy Bear stuff didn't look so bad.

A gothy looking girl is reading Catcher in the Rye behind the counter and looks puzzled. Should i be working? changing the music?. I'm bored to beat the band. This is what I imagine her thinking. only with a girly inside voice.

It turns out she has to ring stuff up. It seems the birthday girl has selected two arm loads of clothes, arm warmer things, make-up and an Alice in Wonderland book bag just for fun. But she says she really needs the bag because someone wrote LESBO on hers at school.
Wow. Kids are still dill holes. I say.
She laughs. Everything i say is funny to her. My archaic old guy slang. ridiculous.

The birthday dinner. That wasn't so bad. Sushi. Vegetarian Sushi for them and a tempura dessert. She had Tempura oreo's with ice-cream. We had banana-filled spring-rolls with ice-cream. It sounded much scarier than it turned out to be.

Later we all watched a dvd too. She picked STAR WARS. The good one. I'd never watched it on the 60' Plasma w\ surround. It was awesome. It felt like my Birthday. I mean I might have picked going to Urban Outfitters or getting inked, but everything else.

As a bonus cliche' i remember my girl saying to me sometime back: Since it's close to your birthday, how bout we have it on Halloween? she's talking about our wedding. I tell her that sounds perfect. But let's not make it to cheesy. but sort of. but not. you know?

Now that the witch is dead. She has no idea what I'm talking about. Something to do with the Wizard of Oz. Maybe.

Tuesday, July 8, 2008

If you put it in slow will it hurt?

she packs her little black bag
and comes over with a half pack of cigarettes and
full of regret
she doesn't smoke but they
remind her of him and the safety
waiting and
waiting around for her back
and it's all the reason why
she's here

catch me
I'm falling

it doesn't matter now
but maybe she'd get used to this
thing with me already
and it'd somehow be worth the lies
and dirty
she feels
having to lay
by my side

the kind of grime and hollowness she tells me, that doesn't wash off
even after a scalding hot rape-shower.

maybe she just needed more convincing
that i am everything
she never wanted
that she couldn't believe I breathed the same air
and lived under the same skies
as everyone else
because I was like
no one else
far worse
i was the same as everyone

and here I go even
before i get home to her.
I go home to her. the other one, she lives in the apartments less than a mile away from my house.
and I go there and she touches what she touched
we have sex
I don't let myself come if that's any consolation
I save it
for when I get home

I put it in her
with a shame full kind of violence
like i can somehow force my
dick and soul
into her all at
i know it wont keep her mine
but it keeps her
mine now

less than an hour from being
inside of someone else
I push myself off of her
I do it just like that
shoving at her sweaty skin , leaving her breathing hard. used. and she doesn't see it but I wink at the ceiling as if it's my pal.
as if I won something, like showing off to the heavens.

see,you haven't hurt me. You can't hurt me.

I am wrong of course. I'm wrong about everything.
you wouldn't know it
but I am in love with her
and I hate myself for it.

art by: MISS VAN

Friday, July 4, 2008

Sugar and Ghosts

The fourth. It was the traditional fish tacos and fireworks for me. The girls are vegetarian. Living with two non-meat eaters is challenging. Ever go shopping with two girls? one a teenager?. Fuck I'm tired. They know how to give a credit-card a work out too. First clothes, then we noticed the Linens' and Things by us was having a location closing sale. We bought a bunch of Nate Berkus sheets, a Comforter and pillows for 50 percent off.
I think we look weird out on the town. My girl and I have full sleeves of ink and her daughter with pink hair and hot topical .

shot off fireworks in front of the house for about an hour, we watched the others in the neighborhood for a little bit longer. Amazing display some people put on.

I got to play my drums really loud. No one is going to complain with all the fire-works going on. right? Oh, I have an acoustic guitar now too. So I expect to have my first demos out soon.
Music is more fun than writing words for me at the moment.

I am sure that will change. Everyone does. Everything does.

Thursday, July 3, 2008

Boom !

A different route home today. I don't know what made me. Got off work early. Driving home on a summer day. Sky is blue with patches of puffy clouds. There are cars in front of me coming to a stop. In the street I see there is a Momma duck getting her ducklings across the road. Not little chicks, they are bigger. Size of small kittens. Maybe 5 or 6 altogether. But there is one, on the end. It's hurt. A car must have just hit it and kept going. but now everyone has stopped. Including me. The little duck in the road is flapping it's wing. part of it crushed by the rushing tire of a ton of automobile. Someone driving in a rush, someone not paying attention. Maybe a mistake. The Mother duck she gets all the others across but she keeps going back into the middle of the road to help push her injured baby. She goes over and taps it with her beak. She taps and runs back to the side of the street, then goes back and taps more. Over and over. but it isn't coming with her. It can't. It's dying.

This breaks my heart into a zillion pieces of shattered glass. Us just sitting in our cars. Watching. My chest hurts. I start to fucking cry. I'm in my truck. Crying. Weeping. Sobbing like a baby. I can't stop. It hurts so bad my throat burns. Acid in my stomach. my eyes wet. Chest heaving. Through tears I see someone get out of their truck, cradle the little duck and carry it across the street. A saint. It flaps it's wing it's crushed body. The last of its strength. Now everyone can move back into traffic. some people are beeping their horns. They want to get going to wherever that is. Fourth of July weekend. Important things.

I move out along with traffic. But i can't drive like this. I have to stop. I pull over, turn up the radio and cry some more. it's pure, it's from somewhere deep. I don't know why god wanted me to see that. I never go that way home. Maybe it's like the Tin-man. I have a heart and I've had it all along. I can feel. I can feel it explode and hurt and I know I'm alive. So many things I've tried to shove down. Forget. Erase. Move on and be numb. There are emotions you can't escape and they found me. Things I've have to own up to. and I am sorry. I am. In this transition from becoming boy to man. Finally things start to become clear.

I've been missing my Dog Dallas again lately. It's been 8 months since he's gone. I miss coming home to him. Miss him by feet touching his soft fur at night in bed. But, I am lucky enough to have a girl who truly loves me. Someone who understands when I bolt up from sleeping at night. Who doesn't try to take the place of my hurt. But lets me. Let's me feel.

Tuesday, July 1, 2008

a pretty girl so tired

Happiness is like a butterfly which, when pursued, is always beyond the grasp, but if you will sit down quietly, it may alight upon you.
-Nathaniel Hawthorne

the big kids would stand on the back bumper of the ice-cream truck. harass the poor old driver. One day he got fed up and pulled a shiny silver gun. I saw it. So I know it's true. Some kid went and told his Mom and the cops came. Eddy. Eddy the Ice-cream man, that's what we called him.

screw balls, push-up, astro pops, Italian ices. Eddy. Red faced, with veins in his nose. Always sweating. wet towel wrapped around his neck. He didn't seem to like kids to much. nickles and dimes and dirty pennies with the year 1977. I have my Smokey n the Bandit shirt on and a small transistor radio is strapped the handlebars of my bike. Eddy is in handcuffs. He is ushered past me. Hands behind his back. As he passes, he says to me I'm sorry kid.
Those damn kids.
he mutters to himself.

cop is looking at the shiny gun. He clicks it and a bullet falls to the ground. One in the chamber! He yells to his partner. Everyone is outside their houses now. Even those who never buy ice-cream.

My ice-cream it's started melting all over my hand. Eddy's truck is parked in the grass by my house. The music is playing. Pop- goes- the weasel. over and over.

One cop yells to the other. Shut that racket!. The bigger kids started laughing. riding their bikes along side the cop car. Eddy in the back , his head lowered to his chest.

it's enough to make you crazy....the cop says.

and then she wanted a reason why

you say it a lot. you say it until your blue stars in the face. you say it and it's to late.
you write it and it makes no sense
you read it and it's
like some kind of dream

it's done. already? you stare at the night sky and wonder
where did the time go

wonder if you'll ever make it back home again.

It will be a long summer. July is going to be bright with explosions and light. Light fuse. Run away. The A\c is cranked I tend to stay inside. sometimes I'll go out for a run, or play my drums in the garage. one light bulb swinging from the ceiling. I pretend. I used to be good at that. pretending. I pretend I am in a band, that I am good. people think I'm good. I used to be good at pretending. not so much anymore. I try. I tried. I can say that.

so i told her that we would get married in October. I don't think it will be much cooler out, but it's my birthday and Halloween. She said that's all the time she'd give me otherwise i was taking to long. I think the costume thing is corny. candy corny.

sometimes you just have to listen. sometimes things are greater when you wait. sometimes not.

the thing is. I can't wait.
I didn't mean for it to end like this. that's what I always end up saying. but I think it's best.

i remember you best in winter. hands cold, cheeks red. I remember football season and making cupcakes. winter is when I've always loved you most. It's going to be fun. something about me. I'm going to warn you. Don't say i didn't. my love is tough but it's forever. no one will love you more.

you wanted this and honestly
I've been wanting it too.