December 2011
1 post
5 tags
get on with it then
Talk is cheap, he thought. I need to write something.
He got out his laptop and set to work. I’m gonna write something today, he thought.
A few email receipts later, nothing was done but his Christmas shopping. He looked at the decorative typewriter and made a decision.
“Shut down.”
March 2011
2 posts
6 tags
my own room with a private entrance
I have been “kept” for most of my adult life. I am pampered. I don’t have to work. I am bathed while I bask in the sun. I weigh a lot, but no one seems to care. In fact, they seem to like it. I’m a ’57 Chevy Bel Air.
8 tags
like a chiquita commercial
Possibly the most insightful thing the writer said… he said to his kid brother: “We are cooking onions. And if you think about it… the only ingredients we added were heat and time.” The twelve year old brother’s foot was broken. His precocious assent was validated by the sweet Vidalia.
February 2011
2 posts
5 tags
broken trains to Yoknapatawpha County
They plunked along the corduroy road, quarts of moonshine threatening suicide from the back seats. The Model T had lost its windshield to the local speak, and dust painted the travelers’ sweating bodies.
The man took a swig of hooch and looked at his companion: a woman of easy virtue.
6 tags
i got in trouble for that
I played in the woods. I kept my dreams there in a box.
It contained an old copy of Bulfinch’s Mythology, and a plan for running away at 12 years old. It was just for play.
Mom found it and I’m not allowed to play in the woods any more.
January 2011
4 posts
7 tags
The Jungle
The city loomed like so many concrete prison guards watching his routine. “No slip ups this time,” they said.
He pulled his hat down and his trench coat around him. Crossing the wet grit of illuminated pavement, he saw his mark.
He eased a greasy revolver out of his pocket…
8 tags
gunherder
The soldiers in the trench talked of home.
“Your family owns a ranch?”
“Sure,” he answered, cleaning his rifle.
“Like goats and shit? Sheep?”
“No… Land, trucks, guns, hunting. We hunt the wildlife.”
“Oh.”
“It’s a lot like here, really.”
“Except here we’re hunting people, not animals.”
“Hearts and minds.”
6 tags
you know who you are, magyar.
There was a brief bit of communication. Then came the elation of knowing what lay in store.
She asked him if she could drive 300 miles just to meet him.
She went home while he was at work.
He texted her: “You left your scent on my pillow, didn’t you?”
7 tags
boston, south.
“They’re dirty people, the Irish. Sharing food with bugs underground. How do you make money in a place like this, I don’t know.”
“What can I do? This is where I am.”
“Move to Flaridah,” he said.
The Irish there weren’t much better, but there were certainly less of them.
June 2010
2 posts
6 tags
jjjuussttt liiieek a buudddddhyy moooviee
Best friends… hadn’t spoken in years. The phone’s ring echoed his heart’s pounding. “Hey man.” “Hey.” “Glad you called… I miss you. I miss home.”
—- He cried because his friend still loved him. Ten days later, he cried because a drunk driver hit that best friend. —- I’m glad I called.
4 tags
what next
I have four vehicles; no way I can’t get there in time. What is this? Why won’t the engine accelerate? Fucking piece of shit scooter. I get home to put tires on my bicycle, but it goes flat. The motorcycle has water in the carb. Taking the bus… “A/C’s out.”
May 2010
1 post
It was the simple pleasures Frank liked most. People always said that, but for him, not going down three flights and across the street for a cookie was truly a gift. He didn’t care much for walking, let alone climbing. “You can have my cookie,” someone said. It was stale.
March 2010
4 posts
5 tags
block
On his laptop, he pecked…
“What a shitty career choice. I should have done something easier like photography,” he wrote. “I don’t care what they say; all you have to do is point and shoot. These modern cameras do all the work for you.”
The word processor corrected his typos.
7 tags
like plowshares for trophies
On deck Walter saw the kamikazes. There were enough, the ship would go down.
The deck guns tried playing schoolmaster. They attempted to break up the fight between flying and floating metal. Besides the rainbow of oil slick, the sea was red with blood.
They’d win an Oscar for this.
5 tags
architects of fear
The scientists adjusted spectacles and looked at each other.
“There will be world peace at last.”
“What if it backfires?”
“It can’t. There’s a failsafe. The A.I. would never launch all the nukes… The world will unite in time for peace.”
A button was pressed, and somewhere a fuse blew…
February 2010
2 posts
4 tags
Redrum
“First,” he explained, “You press down on the pedal to beat the kick drum.” I hated his condescension. “Got it so far?”
“Yes.”
“Next,” he continued, “You take the drumstick and hit the snare drum. Like this.” He hit the drum. I imagined stabbing him.
“Can I have the stick?”
5 tags
Wrong Again
A person once said that it would be a prosperous year, quoting a horoscope.
He managed to stare in disbelief, which was easy. The sad part occurred when it actually kinda happened. You see, in all his time, and despite the good luck that came, he didn’t like being wrong.
November 2009
1 post
Because I Have To
He wrote fifty words to waste time. Maybe his own. He wrote fifty words to waste time. Maybe his own. He wrote fifty words to waste time. Maybe his own. He wrote fifty words to waste time. Maybe his own. He wrote fifty words to waste time. Maybe his own.
April 2009
6 posts
7 tags
sometimes two and two make five
I think of shoegaze and I can smell buttered scones, loose sweaters, English rain and English melancholy. I can hear noise on my radio, I can feel Florida air thirty years after the fact. Seattle has nothing on the Irish Sea. Despite it all, I can feel pain too. Sad.
8 tags
like a new "flower"
The dry shuffle and scrape of a leaf from a book. Using one finger with that careful, precision force to both grip and slide it across it’s brother. The fresh read produced a smile from her.
With ravenous affection she split it down the middle and smelled the binder’s art.
6 tags
every time, half a year later.
He clicks and clicks. It’s fortunate the internet doesn’t charge him rent.
Alerts illuminate his face and tell him which friends he can talk to.
His head in hand, his eyes dart to the corner. Her name appears: “____ has connected.” His heart races and he feels like he’s falling.
8 tags
it's not THAT cosmic
It was a life of books. Inspired at 11 years of age by Thomas Jefferson’s quote.
Now as he contemplated a move, he looked at his collection. Not much but dust and paper. Some hadn’t been read yet. But where could he put them?
Did not Saturn eat his children?
4 tags
first time for everything.
I always say: “Happy Birthday.”
We broke up.
It’s polite and charming to continue with the greetings.
“Happy birthday!” I’d email.
She had a son with her new boyfriend.
I thought, “Maybe my greetings are perceived as attempts to get back together.”
I don’t think so, but I stopped anyway.
5 tags
yet again with this shit
Why does she always seem out of reach? Even after so much time, we have a good time in each other’s company. Things fizzle out, inevitably, I know. But when do I stop caring? When will I stop caring?
Questions posed to no one in particular are the worst sort.
March 2009
12 posts
6 tags
i love you, xtal.
So, I had a few sisters. They were good. I didn’t know my sister would end up being the product of a pair of strangers’ fuck. That is how it happens, though; your friends become your family.
And then grampa has surgery, and I still don’t know what family is.
11 tags
stupid words
The other students handed in their test booklets in due time. But she sat there, chewing the pencil, brow knitted, mind twisted into knots, refusing to submit anything that didn’t have just the precise word she was looking for. And so she could not get past “The…” and failed miserably.
10 tags
one day in bed sick
Golden ringlet curls settle around an ashen face. Slaves sweat in fields and she can see them. Her thoughts go out to the son of one, away fishing. She meets him now and then and they talk. He isn’t as polite as daddy’s friends. And yet he knows her best.
11 tags
fortunate none
Most nights on the porch anymore were solitary nights. With some regret, he assumed it was because he was older, not because his friend was dead. And it was bearable.
But when Creedence Clearwater Revival plays from the radio… He didn’t cry so much, not anymore, but it hurts more.
6 tags
false advertising
I would have thought that here, in paradise, I could be amazed by all the natural beauty that surrounds me. What was it the man said? Wherever you go to run away, your problems will be there waiting for you?
If only she was here, waiting. If only she was….
8 tags
memories indeed
Click. He isn’t even thinking.
“Hold it like that. Yeah. The light…” he trailed off.
Click. Click. He checks his exposures as he attempts to tower over her on the bed.
He takes a drink in the dim light and looks at her.
All he has now is the film.
7 tags
behind that ....
Wait.
That’s all he needed to do. Just wait. Hang on for a bit and he’ll get what’s his.
How easy.
Sit tight. Here it comes. Not a big deal, a minute or so.
And then the door will open…
Here it comes. He heard…
He opened the door and
8 tags
crime
A few minutes earlier, the man had been punched in the stomach. Sucker punched and put in a car.
He can see through the blindfold and vaguely make out various landmarks.
The two men beside him are mere apparitions of humanity. Ghosts. He wonders about his fate. Beating or death?
10 tags
world wide (aimless) wander
Sometimes there’s too much to say. Too much to fill.
How can you pick any one thing to do? And once you’ve set on it, how are you supposed to maintain… after you pick yet another…
His comfort was that he was young. Perhaps things would sort themselves out yet…
10 tags
olfactions
His mind could still recall the smell of her pussy.
The first time he had caught a scent it was disturbing. Too strong. I’m used to something much sweeter.
But now, some months on, a strange combination of smells caught him at his desk and he thought of her flower.
13 tags
it was cold in there
Frank made his way to the hotel where his girlfriend and her friends were staying.
Everyone was napping before the night’s hedonism. She was next to another guy. Frank laid down and put his arm around her, but she never returned the gesture.
Later that night, she would leave him.
8 tags
brainfreezes
She suppressed her thoughts as much as she could. This is how one kills love, she thought. Just deny it, there is no other way.
Then without warning the dreams would come, over and over, but still far between. And so the years rolled by, but she always loved her.
February 2009
7 posts
5 tags
what crosses the mind, steps on the mind
Some time’s gone since I first met her. She had been something of a savior to me. But she has moved on.
We still talk.
I thought I had become her friend but when I meet her now and then, I still stumble over my heart.
She still has it.
7 tags
perspective
I stared at him with love. I’ve known him for 4 years. I just don’t like when he touches me, but I truly love him. I sleep with him every night. I want to give him a smile. I’d pet him back if he could. But I’m just a cat.
10 tags
addictions
He reminded himself a lot of the father in Angela’s Ashes. Only he didn’t drink the earnings away. Well, not all of it anyway. His unemployment check arrived and he hit up eBay for that pretty gold watch he had seen at the store. Luckily again, he had no children.
7 tags
20,000 leagues
“For a good time,” he told his friend, “grab a camera and ride.”
“Ride?”
“Take yourself a trip through downtown. Take a picture of hookers, snap a few of all the kids going to clubs. It’s amazing. The world is like an aquarium when you tour it in your car.”
11 tags
stupid hipster girls
He wondered when the stupid attraction would stop. He had gone through three other girlfriends. He thought it was through his system by now. But then, in the random click of the mouse, he stumbled upon a picture of a girl that only looked like her. It all came back.
7 tags
ow
He woke with the pleasure of a nice Sunday ahead to be spent leisurely at play, or maybe even a bit of work. But unfortunately, he brushed his teeth. This must’ve aggravated something, because the next 3 hours were spent in searing pain as the cavity made its presence felt.
8 tags
discovery
Sometimes discoveries are made in places that are altogether familiar, just not often visited. I opened the door to one such room to find someone I didn’t know, but had seen around plenty. Maybe we could be friends? Until now, she had only been a pretty face in the crowd.
January 2009
17 posts
dom-a-seal
It felt like he was cheating on him. They weren’t gay, for sure. But they were roommates. And in this way, an odd coupling did exist. What could one do? He shopped around, looked for deals. Called in favors. But the feeling was there nonetheless. Despite all, he’d miss him.
nonincestuous
At the tender age of nine I first saw her. She was my stepmother’s sister. Is this wrong? I still don’t know. She studied in college what I would study one day. I could wax eloquent but the truth was and still is that I want to fuck her. Hard.
twentyoneeth
He was reminded how well someone could look with a bit of rouge and liner. How clothing hides the gravity’s rage o’er even the most nubile tits. Reality’s a shame but better than the farce.
The shutter fired.
He drew from the cigarette… called her a slut in his head.
still going
The theory was that you could lose friends by maintaining your association with them. Show them love and nourishment daily. Personally select something they might fond insightful and post it to them.
He had formed the theory after people returned some letters. They were too busy to read, they said.
I never did have an easy time of letting my body go unprotected. But we moved to Louisiana and it just got so damned hot I had no choice. Shirt, shoes… It all came off. The pasty mud squished through my toes and the soft scrape of it felt sensational.
who said that?
“I don’t know why everyone likes him. I don’t feel him,” he stated.
“How can you claim to be a writer and not like him? Listen: ‘We turned at a dozen paces, for love is a duel, and looked up at each other for the last time.’”
“Oh, that’s good.”