Dear torch lighter,
I do believe you have mistaken the ignite button that is located in a small hole just under your nose. You may want to discuss this with the other idiot across the patio who is neglecting the exact same vital piece of information that is keeping up all from being warm this December.
Much Respect,
~S
Thursday, December 20, 2007
Monday, December 17, 2007
My life is about to hit a speed bump. it's 30 degrees colder than it was yesterday. Mother nature knows of my rebellion. I think I'll try to make myself feel different for tonight only. tonight I'll change the game plan. Criminal masterminds have to do that. Their freedom depends on it. Tonight you rob a liquor store, tomorrow you shoot a business man from a rooftop, lay low for a few weeks, move to a new city, pay cash for your hotel room then knock off the coffee shop on the corner. Tonight my eyes will dance with a brilliant fire. Not unlike a child's eyes on Christmas morning, eyes the size of sweet sixteen donuts.
I have to be completely ready for the next few days, but how does one prepare for time alone? I see this speed bump in the distance. The yellow paint is worn from years of inconvenience to lead -footed drivers. But it's there, and if i don't pay attention it may fuck up my shocks. Already faced with a few new ghosts. Probably making terrible decisions even before this new time alone. I don't know why i feel so light-hearted. So at ease with this situation. I guess i am setting myself up for a very selfish thing. distance. It can poison a heart. Taint the juice sprayed bib of the fat man gnawing the last bit of meat off the bone. Even if the bone was bare to begin with....
I like the imagery of what i just vomited onto the page. But, let's face it, it really made no sense at all..
I have to be completely ready for the next few days, but how does one prepare for time alone? I see this speed bump in the distance. The yellow paint is worn from years of inconvenience to lead -footed drivers. But it's there, and if i don't pay attention it may fuck up my shocks. Already faced with a few new ghosts. Probably making terrible decisions even before this new time alone. I don't know why i feel so light-hearted. So at ease with this situation. I guess i am setting myself up for a very selfish thing. distance. It can poison a heart. Taint the juice sprayed bib of the fat man gnawing the last bit of meat off the bone. Even if the bone was bare to begin with....
I like the imagery of what i just vomited onto the page. But, let's face it, it really made no sense at all..
Thursday, December 13, 2007
THEY BOTH
A cold liquid pours down his back.
The hue of movie theater seats from the 50's.
Coffee stains on a white pair of shoes and Y chromosomes under his fingernails.
The paint starts to change colors a little as he remembers why he left home in the first place.
"I can't go there anymore" he said inside his head. The quotation marks still applied.
When the doorbell rang she was pouring beer into the bathtub.
"doctor said it will help my skin, and it's good for the baby."
Everyone knew she wasn't pregnant but hell, Why tell the truth now.
He heart wont allow her the convenience of reading the clock hands.
He's been gone for so long, Just came back to get his thing.
But she just smiles, like it was yesterday, or a thousand yesterdays ago.
He slammed the trunk the way wardens slam cell doors.
It wasn't exactly necessary unless someone happened to be filming it.
There was never any ring exchanged between the two of them but if there had been,
this may have been the moment that she took it off. In her mind the ring took a little more than a tug to remove from her finger. Signifying the fact that it had been there since the proposal. This is the moment that she flicks it in the air. This is the moment that the sky turns electric black and winged beasts that have never been recorded by National Geographic fly down around the scorned couple. swirling around them with great fury. Screaming primal battle cries used to defend their race from the dinosaurs. But there had never been a ring in the first place.
The sun never went down that night and in the morning everyone was none the wiser. The moon was pretty upset but would never show his true emotions.
As he sat down to drink his coffee, And as she sat down to drink hers, they both knew the other was thinking of them. Habits such as these don't break over night.
the cigarettes had been left burning in the ashtray. the smoke sending up a signal that neither of them could read however, they both tried so desperately. Smoke has always been magical, since the beginning of time.
It seemed that the day floated around both of them the same way, Like manufactured snow globes with beach scenes inside. Both getting undressed and slipping into different showers. Both touching themselves to feel comforted. Both feeling very uncomfortable.
That night as they both decided to take a stroll, they both ended up on opposite ends of the same park. The smoke from the two cigarettes met at the very top of the snow globe where the air bubble sits quietly, waiting, watching. The two streams of smoke greeted each other, danced together the way young couples do at middle school socials. Stiff and awkward, elbows out. Erection hidden. When the tears floated upward in that sticky sweet solution, mixing with the flecks of glitter and tiny plastic birds, they finally felt alone.
Life's giant number two pencil,
still factory sharpened
erasure clean, no smudges to speak of.
reaches down from heaven.
"Please erase this mistake for me as i have no writing utensil to speak of."
They both
No more.
The hue of movie theater seats from the 50's.
Coffee stains on a white pair of shoes and Y chromosomes under his fingernails.
The paint starts to change colors a little as he remembers why he left home in the first place.
"I can't go there anymore" he said inside his head. The quotation marks still applied.
When the doorbell rang she was pouring beer into the bathtub.
"doctor said it will help my skin, and it's good for the baby."
Everyone knew she wasn't pregnant but hell, Why tell the truth now.
He heart wont allow her the convenience of reading the clock hands.
He's been gone for so long, Just came back to get his thing.
But she just smiles, like it was yesterday, or a thousand yesterdays ago.
He slammed the trunk the way wardens slam cell doors.
It wasn't exactly necessary unless someone happened to be filming it.
There was never any ring exchanged between the two of them but if there had been,
this may have been the moment that she took it off. In her mind the ring took a little more than a tug to remove from her finger. Signifying the fact that it had been there since the proposal. This is the moment that she flicks it in the air. This is the moment that the sky turns electric black and winged beasts that have never been recorded by National Geographic fly down around the scorned couple. swirling around them with great fury. Screaming primal battle cries used to defend their race from the dinosaurs. But there had never been a ring in the first place.
The sun never went down that night and in the morning everyone was none the wiser. The moon was pretty upset but would never show his true emotions.
As he sat down to drink his coffee, And as she sat down to drink hers, they both knew the other was thinking of them. Habits such as these don't break over night.
the cigarettes had been left burning in the ashtray. the smoke sending up a signal that neither of them could read however, they both tried so desperately. Smoke has always been magical, since the beginning of time.
It seemed that the day floated around both of them the same way, Like manufactured snow globes with beach scenes inside. Both getting undressed and slipping into different showers. Both touching themselves to feel comforted. Both feeling very uncomfortable.
That night as they both decided to take a stroll, they both ended up on opposite ends of the same park. The smoke from the two cigarettes met at the very top of the snow globe where the air bubble sits quietly, waiting, watching. The two streams of smoke greeted each other, danced together the way young couples do at middle school socials. Stiff and awkward, elbows out. Erection hidden. When the tears floated upward in that sticky sweet solution, mixing with the flecks of glitter and tiny plastic birds, they finally felt alone.
Life's giant number two pencil,
still factory sharpened
erasure clean, no smudges to speak of.
reaches down from heaven.
"Please erase this mistake for me as i have no writing utensil to speak of."
They both
No more.
Thursday, December 6, 2007
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