Wednesday, December 22, 2010

the rain the rain the rain keeps pouring
and words keep spilling into my ears
and they are wet words
slippery, slimy things that my atrophied brain
doesn't want to absorb
this boring trickle
boringboringboring drops
all you
and not me
a reign a reign a reign of cattezz' and doggzez'
a drip and another drip always
flooding hope patience my will
i don't want to drown
to sail this vessel past the edge of The Earth
or to cast my sextet into the void, frustrated
i want warmth
and an empty ARK
so that I can sail a world anew

Tuesday, December 21, 2010

Oh My.

Thank Gandalf. I got this back. It went away. bksafdjkbffasnmsaf,mnfsa

Wednesday, December 15, 2010


My Best Christmas Ever...

Might of written about this before. I know that I have, but I think that it was in one of my notebooks. Maybe I wrote about it in a magazine or school paper. Somewhere.

Back in the day. When I was young. When the top of my head probably came to my fathers hip - my father and I went down the street to the Xmas tree lot. This was a REAL lot. One of the ones where you actually picked a tree and a bundled up gnarly neanderthalic man sawed it off for you and lugged it to your car. Not one of the drugstore parking lot lots. Something that you didn't do in combination with grocery shopping.

It was cold. But Southern California cold. So that means, like...60 degrees. My father and I had trudged deeper and deeper into this mini-forest looking for a nice, full tree to take home. I don't know where my older brother was. Probably playing Atari or watching football. Definitely not dating girls. My brother was a very late bloomer.

We found one. Not a girl or a late bloomer, but a great-looking tree off in the distance. Looked huge to me. Gigantic. As we approached it, I realized that my father wasn't around anymore. He was behind me, crouched down on one knee and had his hand placed on something by the ground. I crunched back to where my father was and heard him speaking in a strange voice. A tiny, soft voice. My father's eyes were misty. He had stepped on a baby rabbit. It was probably no bigger than my hand and was jerking spasmodiacally on a blanket of pine needles. My father was softly saying that he was sorry. I'm so sorry, so, so sorry...

I kept on looking back from the dying baby rabbit and to my father's now alien face. I couldn't figure out what was more of a shock to me - the little thing dying before me or the glimpse of actual emotion on my father's face.

My father eventually barked an order at me to KEEP ON GOING. I did, because he was my father. My father told me to not stop looking back. I did, because he was my father. I didn't ask any questions. I did, because he was my father.

We got our tree.

Do I remember how it looked that year in the livingroom?


Do I still remember that tiny, twitching rabbit?

Yes. Perfectly.

Best Christmas ever?



Because I'll remember that one for the rest of my life.
don't go out
ignore social gatherings and obligations
stay inside

see how this works out for you
I can hear your heart beating from here. And I can hear you breathing from there. And even if I'm not here with you tonight, I know where we'll be tomorrow. Together.

Saturday, November 20, 2010

laz e

Fuk. I relly dnt lik this com pumputer nd th smoeks all poring n my eys nd i guss its cld otside r at lest cld fr asouthern alifornia nd evn thogh tht ths sntnce wsnt tht gloriou it stll tk me mor tme t blw acros the thje kybrd. to blw ashs acrss this Mc kybord thet I fuckg hte. i'v wrien n prchmnt. imis cnieform. imis arrnging big St\nehenge bloks. i mis my CIA focallity. iam fuckng cazy andI am nts. I neeed t diee, aloonend wih mny petsz nd to b coverd wthvultre p]\ckings nd rdiation tht wll pngpingping pstumosly wi me nd yor grate gddamn granchildrn wen Richard Branson  n Octobabies r mining ore n th Virgin Moon.

Wednesday, November 10, 2010


The Best Thing That I Did Today
Was The Worst Thing That I Could've Done...
Because Then - Everything Was Better After That...

I have a new wallet now. Strikes me funny that, in twenty-eight years, I think that this is only the second time that I've bought one myself. There were probably a couple before that, but they were probably fastened together with Velcro, so they don't count. I might've traded a friend one of my G.I. Joes for one of the wallets that I had before. And the one before this, was a Harley Davidson one that I bought in a biker shop in downtown Cincinnati when I was eighteen. It had a long chain on it. I thought it was cool. And it helped prevent people from stealing it while I tried to sleep on the Greyhound bus too.

Dude, yes - I am getting older...nothing makes an old dog sniff the aging air more than perusing wallets in Target because your old one's on its last thread. I cheaped out and bought it at Target. Do you have Target where you live? It's like the west coast equivalent of your Wal-Mart. Except without the guns. And the old people greeting you. We do have Wal-Mart here though. Don't get me wrong. We have a lot here that you do too. Except White Castles...maybe that's a good thing. But...

Buying a new wallet made me feel ancient. Car lots, buying booze, lap dances, work clothes, ordering for your date, having kids call you SIR...none of this makes you feel as dusty as buying a wallet by yourself. I don't know why, but it does. I also bought some plain, white t-shirts, socks, light bulbs, Cokes, and picture frames. That's old too. But I did spend a lot of time agonizing over whether to buy more Star Wars figures - so that doesn't make me a gray ol' man yet, does it?

If I could've stopped any part of the day today, it would've been the part where I woke up, and if I could've sped up a part of the day it would've been the part that I'm at now. Stretch it to the limit. See what happens in the end before you fall asleep and have to return it the next day to avoid late fees.

I think that I just figured out the law of nature, kids. We have to hunt down all of the cats, let the dogs fight it out amongst themselves and let the monkeys be monkeys. Everything else can be bugs and insects. That sounds good to me.

I'm scared of the snail's pace in the world's race. I remember how cute and sad my little sister was, all at once, when she was young. She used to construct little dollhouses for the numerous snails that used to inhabit our front and backyard bushes. My father eventually found out and made her move her sticky cardboard and miniature plastic furniture mansion outside in the front by the doorbell. One day, as I was getting ready for school, she ran up to me crying. I followed her outside and looked towards the direction that she was pointing at with her tiny little fingers. Cardboard snail shelter intact, but myriad shiny snail trails leading from her house, over the walls, and back into the bushes.

Sad for little girls. A relief for fathers. Freedom for fast-moving snails in the night. It must've been some operation for them under the cover of hushed darkness. I bet they ran real fast. She was only slowing them down.

Little sister's all grown up now, trying to build her own house. While I feel like one of her snails. Except the walls are bigger for me and I can't figure out which way to go. Would you look for me if I left a phosphorescent trail for you? Would you try to retrieve me like she did? Would you try to replace me with another or just forget about me and move on to something bigger?

I like my new wallet. It's nicer. Sleeker. Slimmer. Kind of like how I am now in my older age. I liked only filling in the new wallet with the bare essentials and chucking out the pack rat paranoiac feeling that I-cant–throw-this-away-because-I-think-that-I-might-need-it-in-an-emergency. I like feeling that if an emergency came up and if I needed a number or a scrap of paper that I'd survive and that I should just chill and that none of this stuff comes up anyway, and that if I really needed it - then I could get it - and if I couldn't? Then fuck it. My mind keeps on telling me to get jumper cables for my car, but I still haven't gotten those yet, though - have I? So why worry about having a certain business card? Yes. Why?

Oh...everything's fine. This is part of the reason why I turn nonsense letters into nonsense sentences. This is how I've always been. All questions with, maybe, a different answer every second. Every second breeds more questions - all you're trying to do is catch up. You forget most of it by the time that you wake up the next day - and then...shake...stir...repeat process.

Looking at the long list of ingredients to the package of Pringles that I brought home for my girlfriend makes me depressed. Looking at the cigar to my right doesn't. Uh-huh. Yeah. Hypocrite. I spent all of my day working at a job that I hate doing, now that I should be sleeping at three in the morning - I finally feel alive. Love the girlfriend and can't wait to spend time with her - but now that she's asleep in the next room - I feel alive. Feeling like, I think, the person that she fell in love with. The person at work all day doesn't exist. He's just a gossamer image of me now. Tonight's ME can totally kick today's ME's ass.

I'm getting better and better each day…I hope. I need a little fast and a little slow snail pace. I need what I need based on my schedule. I need you to listen to me. I need to listen to myself. I need to be young and old all in the same moment. I need sleep and I need to wake up. I want you to kiss me and I want you to leave me alone. I need more time and I've used all of mine up. I need to keep drinking and I need to sober up. I need to start running harder. I only want to float. I can' t watch. My eyes won't close. I should stop writing...

But I can't shut up...

Tuesday, November 09, 2010

You and me?
Kind of
Goddamn cool.
Kind of.
Are and you...
are we -





and when I'm not trying to prove that my life makes sense
and to not be the stuff of Sleepy Hollow legends
learn, learn, learn - about CCD 2011, Reindeer/Caribou/Rachel Reis/Mirah/The Hoover Dam/Air Force 1/The House/Senate/Migratory patterns/Patience/Ghosts/Warren Ellis/Lisa Hannigan/Ollabelle/Love/Chemtrails/The Panchen Lama/Factory farming/Nelson Riddle/Sewing/Tom Stoppard/Bokanovsky's Process/Bokonoism/Rachel OG/S.M. Stirling/Mayans/Jesca Hoop/Hands held/Tesla formulas/Smiles/Fat Man and Little Boy/
I try too much
and now I'm trying to prove that life makes sense
and I've learned to be humble/patient and like WATER
to be so much better then before
want to not to speel check my actions
and to Mirriam Webster/iPhone app my heart ALWAYAS

Saturday, October 02, 2010

I am the best that I've ever been
I've had glacial progression
and tsunamic moments of clarity
go H20

Thursday, September 30, 2010


explorer Ostrich
with his head in the ground
an insect
trapped in amber
until you release me
and from being stuck
in the past

Friday, September 17, 2010

I come from the future...

Back then we used to write about
Cat Stevens and Sufjan Stevens
factory farming and sustainable agriculture
time in a bottle and

Thursday, September 02, 2010

I have not written too much lately. I've been distracted. Dealing with things. Overworked and under-stimulated. Part of me didn't miss the writing. I don't miss freelance jobs. I don't miss writing about your DJ's, your magazine, your company or helping to write your screenplay, script, proposal, etc. What I do miss is writing on a front porch, drinking cigarettes and smoking beers furiously. I miss writing things that aren't for anything and that will go nowhere...but here.

God bless this blog.
My head today?

Charles Lindbergh and Amelia Earheart had a baby.

Cloud fury.

Saturday, August 14, 2010

This Year... (sort of)

i died
got better
and then got betterbetter
got creative (sort of)
got comfortable (sort of)
tried (sort of)
and feel now
like getting better
all of the time
with practice
and consistency (all of the time)
with LIVING (all of the time)
this year (and NEXT year)


You don't have a pen that I can write with and no paper to write upon with the pen that I don't have. I wanted to make a Facebook status update in regards to how happy I am at the moment but I didn't want to get responses back via my phone. It's set to high volume because we have to wake up in the morning and I want you to sleep. Your neighbors are noisy but they're getting quieter as their drunken tide starts to grab and grab at their LOUDNESS. I can imagine a cop not giving a shit when I call - neighbor.noisy.need sleep.

I think you're good. Sleeping soundly. I'm here. It's nice to type on something that works. I've missed writing. I promise to give you everything that you want and please don't hate me if sometimes I excuse myself and try to give myself a little bit of everything that I want...besides what I have with you.

Wednesday, August 04, 2010


and i like you and i think that there's something in my drink and I'm okay with that
i want you to be okay and for you to like me
and damn, it takes so much work to be a better person
i never was before
i never was a bad tyke
i never knew what it felt like to grow up
and i
want to grow up even more now
and i
want to like me and for you to be okay
and i like you
and i think that there's something in this life
and I'm okay with that

and damn, it takes so much time
and I'm okay with that


I just erased what I wrote
it wasn't bad
it just wasn't good enough
for you
just roll
with what little I can give
to you
right now
it may
get better
for us both

and if not
then we'll BOTH
get rid of this

Monday, July 26, 2010


I've been fiddling around with this stupid computer since i got home
to a house filled with autistic children, pooping cats and ticking clocks
not really
I'm just staring
right here
it's white before me
stupid technology
failed mechanics
another failed
writing night

Friday, July 02, 2010


Can you hear it?
Shhh...LISTEN - just shut up for a second.
Can you NOW?

Yeah...It's nice isn't it?

Monday, June 28, 2010


and i thank you
for everything
and thank you for all of the love
and the friendship
and the care
and your constant hugs
all of you
are amazingly patient
i keep on running and
you're always right beside me
when i bother to look

and i thank you

Monday, June 21, 2010


We're learning as we go
Learning as you go
You're learning as I go...


I saw a play by myself on Saturday
I read two reviews about it for weeks
so i bought the ticket in bed the night before
credit card in hand
I've realized that i need to continue doing things
that i like
that don't involve anybody else
even though
I totally want all of you in my life aren't
I saw the play
ninety minutes
with an actress by my shoulder in a theater of twenty people
so close
I smoked a couple of cigarettes afterwards
not looking for a party
or to cement my theatric experience
I said hi to a couple of people that I knew and
excused myself
because I was hungry
and because sometimes I don't know
what to do with myself

Ummmm...and that's it.

Quiet night. Stupid poem.


It took me 15 solid minutes
to fix the sliding glass door in my room
that I haven't been able to open for the last 6 months
and now
these last 20 minutes
since I've opened
my sliding glass door
feels like
a face-buffeting hurricane of FUCKING AMAZING.

Thursday, June 03, 2010

The best savings...

Everything is expensive
but getting me out of the house
to me?

Thursday, May 20, 2010



He spent hours assembling his spacesuit

yet forgot to put on a pair of clean underwear
to put in his contact lenses
and to send his last will and testament via Ansible
His socks had holes in them
he had forgotten to update his Virgo Supercluster of galaxies Facebook status
totally spaced paying his monthly bill to the House Atreides
and slowly smacked his space helmet in zero-gravity frustration
when he realized that he forgot to take out the trash to the Dianoga compactor
The stars still looked pretty, though
and he swore to do all of these things 
when he got back
or maybe soon

Wednesday, May 19, 2010

Toys and books arrive in the mail and you don"t remember ordering them because you were drunk.

Wednesday, May 05, 2010

A Journey - By Edward Field

When he got up that morning everything was different:
He enjoyed the bright spring day
But he did not realize it exactly, he just enjoyed it.

And walking down the street to the railroad station
Past magnolia trees with dying flowers like old socks
It was a long time since he had breathed so simply.

Tears filled his eyes and it felt good
But he held them back
Because men didn't walk around crying in that town.

Waiting on the platform at the station
The fear came over him of something terrible about to happen:
The train was late and he recited the alphabet to keep hold.

And in its time it came screeching in
And as it went on making its usual stops,
People coming and going, telephone poles passing,

He hid his head behind a newspaper
No longer able to hold back the sobs, and willed his eyes
To follow the rational weavings of the seat fabric.

He didn't do anything violent as he had imagined.

He cried for a long time, but when he finally quieted down
A place in him that had been closed like a fist was open,

And at the end of the ride he stood up and got off that train:
And through the streets and in all the places he lived in later on
He walked, himself at last, a man among men,
With such radiance that everyone looked up and wondered.

Thursday, April 22, 2010

there is an alien spacecraft hidden in a hangar in Roswell

and a fountain of youth to be found somewhere on this desk
amongst the forgotten bills, Astromech Droids, toothpick sculptures, 
old hospital wristbands, office supplies, tissues, packets of chewing gum, 
crossword puzzles, scratched CDs, Flarp, Dewbacks, Empty Redbull cans,
old phones, candy, mice, DVDs, notebooks, shoes, socks, newspapers, 
magazines, to-do-lists, regrets, scattered pictures, electrical cords,
grocery store receipts, drumsticks, shoes, hot sauce packets, hats,
plastic masks, bathroom towels, drawings, scribblings, smatterings,
all thoughts-not-necessarily-Earth-shattering, envelopes, cigars,
paper clips, keychains, Pez dispensers, dust bunnies, books,
tears, socks, incense sticks, various silverware, mason jars,
water bottles, chocolate, guitars, crayons, mistakes,
paintings, peanut shells, Red Rum,
Clown piggy banks, Jesus puzzles,
fifty-cent bouncy balls, scotch tape,
walking canes and discarded nipple rings.

a glaring truth
of a misspent youth

to be found somewhere on this desk

Tuesday, March 09, 2010

Man, th lv tht i got
whn my insidsxplded
in thrty mnts
whn i wsz in th hzptl bd
and iwz n mrphne
and iwz s scrd
i gz m nt so malone

whr wru bfr idied?

Where were you before I died?
while my insides were imploding

i died and you missed it

Monday, March 08, 2010


Somebody took out my appendix last week. I guess it burst. This last week hurt. Friday a doctor unspooled a tube out of my gut. He said that it would feel weird. It did. I decided to work last night because I am badass. I decided to work last night because I am poor. The ten hours that I worked last night is a testament to my veracity, tenacity, and my pugnaciousness...

Kidding. Really. My insides exploded. It sucked. Random. 

I don't know anything.

Weird shit happens to me.

Thursday, February 25, 2010

Meows and Growls...

God(s) bless you
I'll say it to you
before you sneeze

I've been missing my old life for two and a half years
My new life - I haven't been missing for two and a half years

God(s) bless you, darling
I'll say it to you
two and a half years later

Please, somebody bless this mess
and a half years
too late(r)

Friday, January 01, 2010


I just got excited. I heard a car coming up but it was the paperboy/man. Thappp! Newspaper delivered to the neighbors. NOW, I'm lonely.