Monthly Archives: September 2011

Yearbook Cento

Lisa (a/k/a the reincarnation of Natalie Wood) –
Why do you hop like a bunny?
Think humanoid not rodent.
Did you know that Tampa is a place
that all Catholics must travel to in their lifetimes?

Your a weirdo. You laugh to much.
Remember – not even for a million dollars
and all the Hawaiian islands.
I’ll miss the times we shared, and I
hope you weren’t too scared
when I hit that snowbank
(oops).

Street Violence is clutch.
Drama is key.
The Dead Milkmen are gods.
You are going to school in Florida!
It is shaped like a penis!

I know you are going to have
a really interesting life.
Read anything else I’ve written
if you think I’d tell anyone else this.
Have a good summer; I will probably
see you for most of it.

Go get ’em, killah.

Fences

Season’s have playoffs,
Summer battles fall.
Mid-July high scores

Shed like leaves, forgotten
As the river valley breeze
Gives way

To wild card runs
Of Indian summers’
Late bursts of color,

A hail Mary pass,
A bottom of the ninth
Sideways hat rally.

Nature,
At
The

Plate,
The
Swing,

This
One’s
Going

Back,
Back,
Back…

jersey double cream–

licking it off a narrow wrist

mine you lift it with two white

strong fingers. blush lips to

creme colored cream on brown skin a green river of vein beneath

where your mouth touches

leaves an O of morning coffee.

Two Nights Ago I Dreamt the Sun Was Crashing Into Earth

Expert’s assured me that death would be peaceful.
There was a television broadcast that explained
how everyone would pass
out from the heat and die asleep. We would all
nap sweetly and wake up in heaven among those
our bodies had melted against in the last moments.
I was told to ignore the rising
shoreline and the other gravimetric effects of a

mass that large bearing down upon us. The ocean
turned to lava. It got a bit warm. The sky turned
to glass. It was the reddest
dream I’ve ever had. I was still awake. No one cried.
I was told to ignore the rising
tightness of the weight that had arrived before the light.

The Collapse of the Theory of Evolution in 50 Themes

Get ready for this beautiful story:

I.

First, let me reassure you that
this is not your ordinary house.
The main goal is Interpretation
of data in the network. Now,
within just 3 minutes, the stream
ran shyness in the zone of the trades,
holding and using the reins. Stress
is laid upon raising goats to awaken
your partner’s desire. Let me improve
your riding and the miracle of flowers
(roses, daisies, vanilla, spring and more).

Bow, lie down, and shake hands —
the church bus will be taking off
on Friday, and every punctuation rule
is at your fingertips. A fascinating
cross-cultural voyage, and it takes
only two minutes. These secret tactics
do not turn into legends; it’s a great
deal of fun even if they do discover
and separate the pleasure functions.

II.

The painted butterfly took blood
into the air upon the edges of its
home; it can never lose its beautiful
story guidelines on injector cleaning
and flow testing, the one process that
destroys 93% of her profit before and
after each days’ play. How you can use
a marker pen to draw on balloons to
create a specially designed calculator
to help you run this system?

III.

Dear Friend, wouldn’t there be
so much more wealth in questions?
Are you looking for a way to jump —
embarrassed, humiliated and defeated
again? Do you suspect that it rains
during the summer? You will only bet
the races with the absolute best: a girl,
a horse, and the the real reason why
laying systems do not work. You will
undoubtedly look back on this moment
with shock for many years, Daily and
longer in the regulation afternoon,
considering a horse at last: What
does it cost? No special skills get
respect around town now that we have
entered the Millennium, and phobias are
no more. Natural principles may not be
exterminated, but regulated and transparent.
There s a great deal of money to stay
legal, with the additional help of
the racing world that were once truly
a great benefactor of the human hearts and designs.

Open

There are two rooms.  One for the casket,
one for the service.  The latter
is larger, meant for Christmas sermons
and mass amens.  Too many pews
for our small service, but it has the projector.
That’s what matters.  The same dozen pictures
cycling over and over on the ten-foot screen,
because that’s all there had been time for.
A dozen pictures.  Newborn baby girl
looking grandpa in the eyes, reaching
for daddy’s midnight stubble.  Her daddy,
my brother.  He isn’t even crying.
No one is.  In the other room,
people sit and pray.  The same look
crosses everyone’s face as they pass the casket,
all five stages of grief in a split second before
something human in them dies.
It’s open.
The casket is open.
Whispers say that can’t be her,
that loosely tucked body with the porcelain face
and the fingers curled just so.
She can’t be the one in the pictures.  She spent two days
breathing outside the womb.  It took longer than that
to preserve her sleeping state on a steel tray
before they transferred her to this padded box
and left the cover open.

 

They Shoot Film Philistines, Don’t They?

One of my friends out here in L.A. has a fascinating (to me, anyway) character trait: through various machinations in her life, she has almost no grasp of popular cinema from 1979 to 1999. Apart from Indiana Jones and Lord Of The Rings, it’s just a black hole of pop-culture arcana, where half-understood details and overheard recollections fill in the areas where most of us have indelible memories.

There’s nothing inherently wrong with this, of course — no one is required to have known or seen certain things to exist comfortably in life.* Still, it’s very strange to talk with someone highly intelligent who has a firm grasp on the history and current events of the past 30-ish years, but who has no ability to converse in the shorthand language that my friends and I use all the time.

My hope in the future is to try to launch a project that traces the progress of this pop-culture Mowgli through her cinematic wilderness. As a preview, here is a compilation of some film syonpses that she has recently shared during normal conversation:

The Shining

“It’s Jack Nicholson. He’s in a hotel, and he’s a writer. There are a couple of little girls, and a room floods. Then he starts to go hysterical.”

Back To The Future

“He goes back in time in a car on fire.”

Animal House

“That’s a college one. It’s sort of like Old School. I think it stars the brother of that guy from that awful lawyer show on TV, doesn’t it?”

Return Of The Jedi

“I’ve seen that! Luke tells Leia she’s his sister, and she remembers her real mother. And there’s an old guy at the end, but they replaced him with the young one from the new movies. Umm…I might need to watch it again, actually.”

Friday The 13th series

“I don’t know what that is.” [That’s the series with Jason.] “Who’s Jason?” [He’s the killer who wears a hockey mask.] “Oh.” *long pause* [Do you know what a hockey mask looks like?] “No.”

Dr. Strangelove, or: How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love The Bomb

“There’s a guy who rides a missile. Right?”

*I say this, but I don’t really mean it. It’s so very, very wrong.