Another Fifty Words

Because I Have To

Mon, 23 Nov 2009 13:40:26 -0500

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.

sometimes two and two make five

Tue, 21 Apr 2009 22:59:00 -0400

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.

like a new "flower"

Wed, 15 Apr 2009 21:30:33 -0400

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.

every time, half a year later.

Wed, 15 Apr 2009 21:13:51 -0400

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.

it's not THAT cosmic

Wed, 15 Apr 2009 20:33:37 -0400

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?

first time for everything.

Fri, 10 Apr 2009 02:53:05 -0400

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.

yet again with this shit

Wed, 08 Apr 2009 14:54:46 -0400

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.

i love you, xtal.

Mon, 30 Mar 2009 23:08:18 -0400

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.

stupid words

Fri, 27 Mar 2009 11:00:51 -0400

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.

one day in bed sick

Thu, 26 Mar 2009 11:00:57 -0400

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.

fortunate none

Tue, 24 Mar 2009 23:09:55 -0400

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.

false advertising

Sat, 14 Mar 2009 15:53:35 -0400

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….

memories indeed

Sat, 07 Mar 2009 13:04:45 -0500

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.

behind that ....

Fri, 06 Mar 2009 13:04:42 -0500

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

crime

Thu, 05 Mar 2009 13:04:42 -0500

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?

world wide (aimless) wander

Wed, 04 Mar 2009 11:00:52 -0500

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…

olfactions

Tue, 03 Mar 2009 11:00:51 -0500

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.

it was cold in there

Mon, 02 Mar 2009 11:00:50 -0500

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.

brainfreezes

Sun, 01 Mar 2009 11:00:49 -0500

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.

what crosses the mind, steps on the mind

Sat, 28 Feb 2009 11:00:49 -0500

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.