vigilante meter maids

2011-02-10T01:20:00.002-05:00

this sack of burden
this bag of rock and lead
needs be left
on the side of the lonely
uphill slough
that i trend and tend
to tireless effect

2010-11-13T13:00:00.002-05:00

i am currently watching liverpool stink up the joint vs stoke city in a starbucks in saugus mass, as i wait to go to work next door. my car hood attacked me whilst driving home the other night, causing 750 dollars US worth of damage. ouch.
there is a coffee date couple enjoying each others company across the room from me. unfortunately for the gentleman the young woman showed up early with a book titled, meditations for women who do too much. not a good sign. a good sign would have been if the title was meditations for women who do too many. either way.
cmon liverpool!!!

2010-04-19T17:44:00.002-05:00

im out of work due to injury. i still get paid, a little less than i would like, but that seems to be the norm, so im not complaining. so now my job, it seems, is to find things to do with myself before the day crawls away into oblivion. so far so good.
today i downloaded an application for my phone that bluetooth connects to my laptop, which can then be used as a wireless keyboard to control the computer. so with an hdmi cable i connected my computer to my tv, connected my phone to my computer and watched the first half of the liverpool game through the magic of streaming internet through my tv. during halftime i cleaned up the remains of my brain matter which had leaked out of my ears due to an overdose of glee then ate some mac and cheese doused with sriracha sauce. delicious.
sorry ive been away so long. this is where ive been---

that orange blur in the tree line is my disc. total bliss.

2009-04-06T23:48:00.002-05:00

obnoxious stupid- watchin MSU'79grad/red sox fan bet 5 guys $50 MSU wood cover spread. yells at tv for 3hrs. see also- obnupid -i didnt bet.

a kid who just hit an inside the park home run from the marlins said he'd never heard of "yaz".
fuck
im getting old.
bonafacio=the exact opposite of ken griffey jr
whose return to the home of the sounders came with
a slower run home
fuck.

2009-04-02T23:10:00.002-05:00

on the right you will find a new link to my twitter account. i swore i wouldnt join the league of sheep that is the new myspace/facebook/douchebaggery network site of the week. but its kind of funny seeing updates from stephen colbert followed by pics of shaquille oneill shaving his face taken from his very own cell phone. bizarre shit to be sure. anyways- im on there. so...

2009-03-24T16:57:00.003-05:00

im reading a book. every 2 years or so i decide that enough money has been wasted on trivial means of essential entertainment, such as movies or food, that i decide to see whats going on in the world of literature. that and im much too poor to pay for a decent means of fun. read- boozing. so ill head to the cornerstone book shop in my home town of salem ma and slap down the 15 bucks for some proper type.
its the road by cormac mccarthy. and yup its awesome. a post apocolyptic tale about a man and his boy heading across the desolate plains to the coast for... well im not sure yet. havent gotten that far. but im enjoying the ride so far. mccarthy is the feller who penned no country for old man, blood meridian, all the pretty horses to name a few. old man has been writing for over 45 years and it seems that he hits his stride with more firm gusto now than ever. he writes in staccato rhythms on legato themes and a barely there style of punctuation that im sure infuriates the olde guard, but leaves the reader breathless at each pages end.
its an awesome feeling getting back into reading pages bound with such a master leading the way. moreso its just awesome knowing that i can still read.

2009-02-26T11:05:00.002-05:00

id like to meet the man with the worlds smallest fingers. id like to gently encompass his thimble thumbs in my -by comparison- otherworldly meat hooks and shake the maker of such fine craftsmanship. as it could be only he who could so nimbly and delicately place the headlight of a hyundai elantra in such a tight area as that. either that or the koreans have expertly trained ninja mice who install the bulbs with supremely deft agility and keebler elf like precision. how else could a bulb made of fucking glass and fishing line thick wire end up in a crevice so barely there, so unimaginably crafted from hard plastics and machined steel?
i only wish that when i was very young i could have forseen that i would one day be lucky enough to drive such a vehicle as this. i would have surely engaged in some forms of rigorous finger agility or knuckle acrobatics or drank less milk to stunt the calcium development in my soon to be girthy caucasion frame. damn my waspy heritage. white mans guilt is real. and it seems now that it is my burden to bear. oh woe.

2009-02-17T02:11:00.002-05:00

i feel tired of things. like the aches and constant tiredness of things so cruel and old that it feels like im being introduced to it over and over and over again. Such as the silliness of the whole hunter s. thompson and charles bukowski "was a genius thing" and how the old boys can never be re-created... well let me be the first to tell you, sweet subscriber, that these relics of the form are very fucking dead and shall remain so until otherwise resurrected to type the NEW testament of the written word. and to be perfectly truthfull- it aint ever gonna happen

2009-02-13T01:08:00.002-05:00

FALLING IN LOVE
WITH THE IMAGES IN THE REAR VIEW MIRROR

im an idiot. theres no doubt about it. only an idiot falls in love with the person in the car behind them at a red light. its like this idiotic pg13 rated vouyer thing ive got. and i guess its innocent enough really. its not like i like to watch girls pee or anything. im not a pervert. at least anymore than any other normal guy is. i just like to look at the person behind me at red lights through my rear view mirror is all. its interesting. you can tell alot about the person behind you in those fleeting moments of driving down time, or you can do what i do and make up up a whole bunch of shit about someone youre likely to never see or meet in your lifetime. see? its a game i play. fun.
now id like to tell you this. id like to tell you that i was trying to figure out what the girl in the toyota camry behind me was singing to herself as we waited for that light to turn green. but i feel like if i did tell you that you would pass an instant value judgement on me. label me a weirdo or a lookie lou or a leering larry or something im not. so instead ill lie. and ill tell you that i peered for a second into the sun temporarily stunning my vision. and that is why i couldnt see you in front of me. and thats why just for a second-as my foot lifted from the brake pedal to switch into acceleration mode, my front bumper collided with your rear bumper.
and besides "sully", if that is your real name, why on earth would anyone have a vehicle whose bumpers are made of dyna plate? are you in the A-Team? are you BA barracus? am i in a steven j. cannell production? no? well... let me tell you something buddy. if you had been looking at me in your rear view like i was looking at the girl behind me than this never would have happened. so really- its your fault.

2009-01-31T10:27:00.002-05:00

suck on some pavement you bumper humping slack jaw! is what i wanted to tell the man who cut my place in line at the local walgreens. a place i usually dare not go alone.
-walking in to "little beirut" as i call it is innocuous enough, the lingerers all wait patiently and respectfully, picking their noses in peace or screaming at themselves in a contained audible tone while the derolicts huddle en masse for a bus that seems to never come, warming themsleves with fire from the ends of their found cigarrette butts. leaving, however, is like being at a morroccan flea market. impossibly dirty hands spring from the smoky ether in begging position. "got a cigarette"? claims are heard in at least two known languages as the flannel shirted hoodie men attack you for your change, and the dirty winter coat set try to con you for "bus fair" with incredibly rich and long winded tales of lost car keys off the decks of their boats or wives caught cheating two towns away.-
instead what i said to the line jumper was "excuse me. i think you misunderstood the rules." to which he replied nothing. at which point i said- "are you serious right now?" to which he repiled- "SHUT UUUUUPPP!!! you gonna make a big deal out of it? i didnt see you there ALL RIGHT?!!?" hmmm. its at this point decisions come quick. his outerwear told me he was of the derolict crew. i was vastly outnumbered. this was a situation i needed to handle with delicate precision. " im only trying to point out the fact that what you did was rude man. nothing more." i said. c a l m l y. "you wasnt even in line!" he gnashed. "i was that person standing in front of you man. if i wasnt in line then neither were you." "ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS!??!" he growled. to which i said while now tying my shoe "you know what dude? why dont you just pay for your shit, get out of my face, and have a good day of picking up pennies off the ground."
... and that was that.
silence now. and my head is still on a swivel one day later. a final rebuttal is coming im sure, when a check my mouth has been writing comes back and bounces off my head. until then, its all about the delicate precision.

2008-07-23T21:58:00.002-05:00

i took a rain soaked walk with the dog tonight, as no respite would come from the clouds overhead. our steps were illuminated by the strobaphobic light show from above and by the passing headlights from below. both were too numerous and frequent to count. ive never seen so many lightning strikes in such a small window of time, and it seemed that on any other night it would be a treacherous end to a nondescript day. but nondescript nor ending will it be, as all i could think about was you and your little car pushing through this inclement weather increment by stormy increment, traveling a hundred miles in a deluge, all just to come and curl up next to me. and i wonder for your sake if i, or it, is worth the trouble. and as i finger dried my hair safe in the comfort of my room where you soon will be, i look at the picture of us taken on that red couch in the hooka bar- and the only answer i can come up with is this- of course it is.

2008-06-28T16:28:00.002-05:00

varieties of creature not featured on the animal planet network

during my years of research on a myriad of various subjects i have come across some wildly interesting facts that are buried beneath the veil of normalcy that typical news and media outlets cover on a regular basis. i thought i could share some of these factoids with you.

the double breasted silver chinned grouse-
this species of bird indigenous to oklahoma lives underground. its diet consists entirely of grubs and seaweed. as seaweed is a rarity in oklahoma due to lack of ocean water, the grouse nests near sushi restaurants in sewer drains or under the foundations of the buildings in which the restaurants reside. the long flowing silver beard like feathers located on the bottom of its chin easily distinguish the grouse from its cousin, the double breasted finch. both the double breasted grouse and the finch are the only birds that have nipples, four of them, that burst through its chest plummage during mating season. a rarity to be sure in the world of birds, the grouse uses a form of telekenisis to communicate with its brethren. science is baffled by these strange birds, as professer of avian studies at oklahoma city community college hilario p. knusswaffle has been studying these strange creatures for the better part of 37 years with no real scientific knowledge having been gained from these odd creatures.

the austrian snow spider-
extremely rare, this species of spider lives in the most extreme peaks of the swiss alps. pure white in color, the spider gets its name from the very distinctive hitler-like black moustache just above its mouth. an interesting insect, its diet consists of yellow snow and its own legs. a voracious eater, the snow spider has a life expectancy of 3 hours. due to its odd eating habits, the snow spider has become nearly extinct.

the blue naval lint monkey-
an unusual breed of micro monkey, this animal lives in the belly button of human beings. its diet consists solely of dead skin. unlike its distant cousin, the grey butt crack lint babboon, the lint monkey has a surprisingly advanced defense system. upon contact with human hands it releases a nerve toxin that penetrates the hosts umbilical skin, debilitating its host with feelings of naseua and extreme discomfort. it is for this reason that the lint monkey should never be disturbed. little else is known about these creatures besides their diet and habitat. some research scientists claim that the hiv virus was created by cross breeding between the lint monkey and the butt crack baboon, but these claims have never been substantiated.

2008-04-14T10:18:00.004-05:00

whatever happened to john norris?

you know john norris? that earringed lookie lou from old school mtv news?
you know the one who would fawn and drool over such bands as
the new kids on the block
or bell biv devoe
devote entire portions of his life to michael jackson. both in terms of fashion and in political affiliations.
wax poetic about the guitar stylings of nuno bettencourt from Exxxtreme.
( i spell that bands name with three x's. if they had done the same they would have been seen as the american beatles. instead gary left the band, replaced some other dude in van halen, and now shops in the trader joe's in danvers MA, along with the elderly and the cougarly. what a waste. )
and would praise janet jackson's rhythm nation as the proudest album in the history of music?
john norris was born a simple man in houston texas in 1959.
thats right 19fifty-fuckin-nine!
that would place him at 30 years old when he was praising such works as the new kids
late 30's early 40's when he was riding that Nsync high that swept across the prepubescent landscape of america in the 2000's.
anyway- i have three points.
1- yet another reason to hate Mtv. over paid, over grown, out of touch, star struck, high school journalists telling hundreds of millions of kids what their version of cool is. thats not my idea of a good time. dressing up like some Dorchester prick from 1984. my coife appearing as though i'd just gotten into a scissor fight with a "stylist" at fantastic sams. my arms and legs working independently of each other in semi rhythmic pulsations and calling it choreography. ugh.
2- how has he not been arrested for pedophilia yet? what 30 year old single male do you know that listens to hannah montana? the jonas brothers? hillary duff? and fucking tells people about it?!!?...exactly. only the perv's. and if you actually do know anyone that fits that musical description, than i implore you to do the right thing and notify the police immediately. cuz ill bet you money they live within a mile of a grade school.
3- why hasnt he sued perez hilton for copyright infringement yet? john norris was the OG tabitha tabloid on Mtv. if you wanted the straight news you'd got to kurt loder. the fancier side of music was covered by norris. kurt cobain shoot himself in the face?..( allegedly)- loder's on it.
donnie from the new kids punch an elevator in boston?-norris is totally there. did jewel pen a piece of shit rag of poetry?- loder's up her ass about it. did jewel pen a piece of shit rag of poetry?- norris is powdering his pussy in anticipation of the interview. first question- what was it like living in a van? now we've got perez hilton for the candy, sway for the urban pieces, and gideon yago for the news that young white people care about. all three of these people's names are made up. and no one cares.

fuck you john norris. next up kennedy. god i hate Mtv of the late 20th century.

2008-04-07T23:58:00.002-05:00

thats why they have handles you "r" tard

wow. lookit that one!!! its like its being propelled by alien forces!
flying flipping forward does that urban tumbleweed travel
that plastic bag hurtling toward inevtiability
hanging itself in a tree where it shall stay for the duration of the summer at least.
while all the shitbag fucktards in the universe come in to my store and request more waste than necessary-
how are you today i ask between gritted gnashing teeth
the knuckles on my hand turning white with fury
as she responds
plastic in paper in plastic please. i have stairs to climb.
its a fucking half gallon of milk you retard!
is what i would like to say if it werent necessary for me to pay rent.
but instead i bend at the naval and allow this wasteful human to continue on her oblivious path
towards her own inevitable path to a grave that lies below a tree decorated with plastic bags dangling from the branches that shade her eternal slumber.

2008-04-04T21:53:00.002-05:00

sorry for my absence.
and sorry for the last post-
i was listening to elliot smith.
jesus that dude was depressing, but youve gotta give credit to man who killed himself
by stabbing his own chest TWICE with a knife.
anyway. listen to new portishead. its awesome.

2008-04-04T21:38:00.004-05:00

to chainsaw

gaia preformed her little dance for all to see just how cute she can be.
and then it happened-
she fell while piruetting for her cookie.
and maybe it was the embarrassment of the event but she has hung up her dancing shoes now.
she only stands at attention now for those treats,
and it is my concern that she has now become as old as her doggy daddy has.
as i am now a bespectacled gentleman, allegedly needing glasses for sight,
not fully believing it as of yet.
but i think
her k9 parents have long since passed im sure
and i only wonder at the age of 12
how much longer do i have the pleasure of her company?
how much longer do i expect her to be a puppy in a coat of ever growing gray?
and it pains me to think that the broken heart tattoo that covers the inside
of my bicep is really for her
and that i just happened to get it early in advance of such emotional devastation.
i wonder these things,
and i look at that fat fuck of a cat
little chainsaw
with no malicious bone in her little body
and i think to myself-
dear god am i gonna resent you when gaia is gone.
5 years.
all i ask is 5 more years.

2008-04-04T21:17:00.002-05:00

AMONGST NO ONE

is this really happening again?
do i really have the fortitude to go through this process one more time?
it all seems to be falling into place so easily
when two people can have so much in common
enjoy the complex nature of each other in such a simple manner
enjoying being together as much as we do.
and yet i wonder am i looking for too much too soon
as i sit here in front of the cool hum of the monitor
as you enjoy the company of others on a friday night.
and i remind myself that you are not HER
and that SHE is long gone
that I am better for it.
for youll be here soon
and i will be the better person for it
per usual.

and i remind myself again the images burned into my retinas
those of your caribbean sea blue eyes
your impeccable porcelain complexion
the perfect entangle of dark chocolate tresses
and how my hands get lost in them so easily
the sight of you laughing uncontrollably at my idiotic attempts at humor
and all at once i am well content
as i fall ever controlled into the light abyss that is a new union
and my hand loosens its grip on the release for the safety chute
once and for all.

ive yet to thank you for that
and can only hope that for as long as we both wish it to be
ill spend everyday
telling you in my own quirky and fumbling way
how much i appreciate you showing me
that i can fall again
and not get hurt in the inevitable landing.

2008-02-25T13:25:00.002-05:00

minority majorus

who dredged the hood?
all recently convicted or released please step up to the track
the 455 bus is departing soon
i swear ive never been so nervous while waiting for public transport
and ive been to the bus depot in schenectady ny
and the train drop in utica
places you would never wish upon your least favorite people
where the bums piss on the benches as they sit two feet to your left
the crack dealers greet you with a lei made of crystal meth
and the hookers set up shop in the bathroom stalls to the shock of many an uncomfortable and weary traveler
yes, ive seen many a thing during my days of waiting
but these "people" took the cake so to say
call me what you will,
and yes i admit freely that i am hobophobic in the worst sense,
but there is only so many cornrowed weaves
wonky eyed femalians
and basic pedophiliac degenerates that one man can stand.
most sincerely when these huddled masses are hunched on the same public bus.
this doesnt even cover the pub scene on a sunday eve
when my sole purpose is to play foosball and relax in a pool of libation
where the conversations range from hellen mirran being wonderful in that crime show on cbs
to why armageddon is a superior movie to the rock
to the bathroom stall scrawl that reads " the night pigions are flying high" with nazi symbols scratched beneath.
all conversations, make of man, and bird i would rather have no part of.
spring is on the way,
you can always tell when the restless natives awake from their winter slumbers
and lurch into the streets like half awake rodents
scrounging for sustenance in whatever form they can find.

2008-01-30T23:56:00.000-05:00

theres no way i could do this any longer
is what i said to her
its just not in me to develop or foster a burgeoning relationship
anything more than friendship, or the idea of it, makes me physically ill
as this person you thought i was
or this person that you so hoped i was
is not at all the person who sits in front of you
and i think you deserve to know that
its as simple as this
all those little tiny bags that i was born with
have grown exponentially in the past two years
and it seems that theyve slowed me to a minimal growth pace
so i say to you now
until i sort out the contents of the luggage i carry constantly
there can be no additions to the foundations that ive had to rebuild for myself.
and im sorry.

and this is all i would have told you
had i any words that could possibly leak through these
tightly pursed lips.
but instead ill sit quietly
and nod with approval
and not hear a word that comes out of your mouth
or see a tear that drops from your eye
as i slowly pull my face away from your own.

2008-01-17T00:35:00.000-05:00

astronomie ominous

from here it appears that the only constellations are the ones made from row houses
and the arteries are human coarsing the landscape of a celestial body
from this vantage point
it seems there is no point of advantage
as my pen explodes in my hand due to cabin pressure
and my reading lamp continues to malfunction
increasing my blood pressure
as ive nothing now to read and or write
i can only look to the extreme south through a plastic window
and watch the ground far below turn frozen.
i can see my destination now from that window
and it looks to me like hell has officially frozen over.
welcome home.

2007-12-31T10:52:00.000-05:00

tis the season
for overeating and massive consumption
for sweating greasy crisco sweat
and crying tears made of buttermilk
for expanding waistlines
and receding pickling livers
for breathing heavy whilst standing still
and for belching in your sleep

tis that season for stupidity
and im engaged in it
full body style
a full body stupid
encompassing the all of me
and i spend all of my hard earned cash
on a winter coat fitting
that i pray will will keep me cozy
on those cold winter nights
when i sleep alone in a bed built for two
just me and my overhang

now if youll excuse me
its time for my midday feed

happy new years from the meter maids.
may this new year find you well and full of belly

2007-12-28T14:05:00.001-05:00

trust me when i tell you that im waiting for the hammer to plunge from great heights directly upon my head. there is no way possible days like these havent a repercussive nature, like some sort of aesop tail of morality, bifurcated swinging impishly from side to side off the ass end of the day- mucking the shit out of the all the hard work youve laid into building a foundation of goodness and gregarious nature. like the days can have a soul, like those days could haunt you in some sort of poltergeist like manner, as if the end result of all the good and harmonious feelings were a disruption to the preset karmic laws of your existence. its called preternatural organic paranoia. and ive got it real hard. its called fear of success. and it doomed me from the womb. its a skin too few.

money? check
girl? check
new pedals for the moped? check
food in the belly and fridge? check and check

what else is there really?

2007-12-25T09:35:00.000-05:00

it only goes to show the ignorance to the surroundings when it seems for two years the environ has conspired to unite two people who had no idea such a plan was in the works. it only goes to show the true meaning to the concept of time and to the importance of timing when it takes the parties involved to make those all important first steps towards each other in a free willed manner. its all about taking chances. well chances have been taken, and all the soothsaying, and naysaying, and personal nerdowelling cant stop the events that are about to unfold before me.
merry christmas.
hope yours goes as well as mine has.
-j-

2007-12-23T02:14:00.000-05:00

my head is spinning like an origami top
crafted from the finest parchment this world has ever wrought
the scattered thoughts are smashing into each other
creating sparks capable of igniting the carefully crafted
paper toys
at the slightest touch
as smoke begins to bellow from within the brittle housing that is
a head so filled with pure oxygen and incendiary matches
quite a night indeed.

2007-12-18T00:53:00.000-05:00

maybe all this shit has been worth it over the past four years. four years of drudgerous expenditures of time and energy at a place that could not care less about me than i do it. four fucking years of the same tired questions, followed closely by the same exhausted answers. now that the time is nigh and the end is in sight, maybe all the genuine anthropological curiosity that i showed towards those indigenous frequenters has finally paid off.
it seems that my place of employment is "moving" to a location not so convenient to its customers, nor its employees, but really...what do they matter when considering the all mighty dollar. so ive been weighing heavily this ultimate decision asked best by joe strummer and the clash so many years ago- do i stay or do i go? on one hand weve got job security. a rather large pay wage in consideration of the actual work that i do. and instant comfort in the fact that in fact i understand the job and its inner workings better than most in that specified field. on the other hand...
we have a commute that has gone from single digit minutes to an unspecified amount of time. most likely in the half hour range. a long standing urge to want to do something different. and by that i mean anything with a life that has been for far too long sedentary and complacent. my place of employment has basically become a place i go to loathe, even the products that people drive for days to come and purchase make me physically ill upon eye view. every day i go there for work i feel like im coming down with a cold. that cant be good can it?
so today as i stood and explained for the three thousandth time in the past week why we were "moving" and why it was an inevitability and not just a slap in the face of the most financially curmudgeonly neighborhood in existence, a woman approached me with an offer for employment. a job that would most certainly nuzzle to the dreams in my head, a job at houghton mifflin. as in houghton mifflin the publishing company, not dunder mifflin the fictional company on the NBC show the office.
and its this opportunity that makes all the bullshit worth it. just knowing that there are some people in the community that see us blue collar shmoes as a viable option for more than just reaching far away products that escape their pudgy little grasps. for knowing that there is another world out there, and for knowing that it isnt what you do for a job that defines you as who you are. its more who you want to BE that defines the place where you currently are. an eye on the future is an intelligent asset, an eye on the past and on the here and now can easily become stagnant and stigmatic. so it is with a forward peering glaze that i now view this situation of timely fortune. and its with these eyes that i make a move forward in this world of who you knows and right places at the right times.

2007-12-17T01:25:00.000-05:00

treachery thy name is dog walking
skimming about on frozen sheets of glass
were we
all in the name of good health
and proper care
blustering all the while
with wind chills nibbling through the protective layers
of glove
and skin
all in the name of proper positioning
and zen squatting
searching for that perfect spot
in the middle of Hoth
to prepare your haunches
for imminent daily departures
as a Taunton raced by us
seeking shelter from this blast of cold gust
that nearly knocked me from my chucks
and into the shit pile you so carefully placed
on the top of that drift.
and all i can think is
"the first transport is away!"
and i am glad for it
as we make our trek back to the Dagobah swamp
that holds our warm and inviting little hovel.

2007-12-08T10:44:00.000-05:00

Last night I sat in the cold apartment
watching through the window the onslaught of snow
and the holidays
I began to feel a need for nostalgia
with a good cup of tea

Wrapping myself in a blanket, I looked through a box of old letters,
cards and notes from old friends and young loves
there was a time when I thought that saving these things from the past
was the same as living in it

For which I am apologetic beyond words

I find it ironic that Dickens made the ghost of Christmas future
the looming and dark spectre
when it's the past
that would most likely haunt men's minds
during this, our most cherished time of year

Sorting through my box of tangible memories
I found someone was missing
of whom there was no picture, trinket, or trace

Getting up to make myself another cup of tea
I fought against the drafty windows
by pulling my blanket tighter
and then realized, that it was a gift from her
that was keeping me warm tonight

2007-12-07T14:08:00.000-05:00

bound to that sleigh that we used to share
waiting for that sun to dip below the trees
til the neighbors prying eyes can no longer spy with ease
do i patiently lay wishing on those feeble stars
that this slow burn would leave me
that this internal rage would flee
that time itself would slow to a crawl
or words would speed through all those lies
and it would be a welcome addition
if anything
just to feel something again
besides the lumps in the pillows
and the creases on my face from them
as it seems to be now that the hollow has become me once more
and all the missed days
and unanswered calls can do nothing to mask the penetrating desire
to not give a care for anyone or anything
and it continues still
still as a sail that finds no breeze

2007-12-07T13:24:00.000-05:00

the short walk home feels impossible against the wind
being pushed back, I'm in a dream
my movement constricted
leaves run past me, away from some unknown terror
and I tuck my head down and push forward

2007-12-05T19:32:00.000-05:00

I've had enough. Throwing it in as they say. I need to leave this place, tonight if possible. A friend once told me she was leaving her ghosts when she moved away, and I never really understood her until now. Every street corner, bar, piece of ocean, all have a memory that haunt me like ghosts, and I need to find a place with no memories.

I've always had trouble forgetting the past and living for the day, because I'm quite literally living in the past. I need an adventure. I want to get lost somewhere and have to stop for directions. I hear there are different types of people outside New England, good people, people who smile. I want to move over a landscape at one hundred miles an hour, surrounded by nothing but corn or grass, just because I've never seen it before. I need to feel something new, because the same old feelings are making me feel old.

2007-11-28T15:47:00.000-05:00

I broke the routine of to and from
and discovered something new
the ocean laid still
the rain made it simmer to the beat in my head
and i had no memory

2007-11-24T14:33:00.000-05:00

peanut brittle leaves that crinkle and waste away like shards of antique rice paper hang tenuously by their withered stems to branches that certainly would not have the strength to carry them otherwise. noses turn fragile and as cold as flag poles in the early morning air upon impact as winter turns its bitter fists against humanity. knees burn freezing and take the rest of the days hours to recapture a semblance of normal temperature when at 330 in the morning you are beckoned to work by way of 49.5 cubic centimeters of two wheeled transport. its tiring being the moped pirate of salem. tiring and treacherous, as winds carry you from yellow lines to white lines on the beaten pathways of pavement, and all you can do is hold on. with broken pencils for fingers you hold on and shift weight from one side of frozen ass cheek to the other to compensate for mother natures mocking your inability to find steady purchase on a machine not built for aerodynamics. but all complaints aside- there is no other way id rather travel. no other way that could define a man as well as this. no car could make me as happy during my commutes as these model airplane machines could. and no joy could come of pissing away money. money that would be put to good use in other avenues, such as thermal underwear for these frigid mornings that make me wonder all over again why i dont give in and buy a fucking car.

2007-11-14T22:11:00.000-05:00

it feels like spring, but looks like fall
all the earmarks of rain, but it shall soon fall white
the leaves have dropped, soon to be buried by the impending snow
and its all just another day
another way
that the world shows its inhabitants
that another year is soon to pass
and soon too
is another shot at redemption
at yearly dharmic cleansing for stained karmic collections
of regrets and missed opportunities.
i for one
look forward to it.

2007-11-03T16:58:00.001-05:00

i stabbed a man with a unicorn horn today
he argued with me that unicorns werent real
i proved it to him otherwise
the police said it was a tree branch painted ivory
what the fuck do they know about mythical creatures
nothing.
fucking cops.

2007-11-03T12:06:00.000-05:00

never enough to say to you
as it seems my tongue gets twisted and turned to stone
my insides churn like the ass end of a cement truck
and all that comes out is
...
so allow me the time to think
and give me the space to breathe
and ill come up with something good
pearls pearls eloquent pearls
such as these i say to you now
fuck off.

its official
im over it
and you
and all the emotional monopoly that comes with it
good night
good luck
good riddance

2007-10-27T14:55:00.000-05:00

NIRVANA AND THE REASON IT RAINS

a pickled angel, jaundiced from all the late nights and those long hours beneath the florescent luminescence, belly crawling through the sick and the stench left on the street pavement. falling leaves seem to laugh at his position as they gently careen to the surface below. he pushes onward, through the refuse and the filth and the stains from humanity, all for that desire that drives him. all so he can pick those flowers from the yard of a stranger. that stranger who keeps immaculate the yard in the middle of the worst section of the town, where children are quick to throw both judgment and wild fists at those who dare enter their borough, where the adult population live savagely due to the nature of the day in their decrepit homes of smashed windows and half painted exteriors. wild white roses grow there, along with the largest sunflowers ever seen by natural vision, birds of paradise peek through the forsythia bush that keeps the small herb garden fresh to its owner. its lovely this time of year, right before the first frost of fall lays a small film over the small patch of perfection that no one sees except for its owner and one of Gods destitute warrior children.

and on his way he passes a group of children who sit on a run down porch. those devil children take turns hurling insults bottles and rocks his drunken way. if only they knew him before, before life and the years of broken hearted misery doused the fire within him, they would never have attempted such antics, not against such a being as he. never. as tempted as he is to stand tall and show these future failures the impact of their foul ways, he is too weak and can only drag forward. inch by painful inch does he pass the porch squatters and their weapons, inch by slow inch he grows ever closer to the prize he seeks.

corners are turned and his blood trails behind him now, as those bottles and rocks have taken a certain toll on this- the loneliest punk heaven ever created. his health, never his strong suit, fails rapidly and he prays for the first time since his banishment from His court that the amount of strength within him is enough to bring him to his destination which lies just yards before him now. prayers- those begging wishes made on a star that never responds go answered, as he arrives in that side yard of a meticulous and beautiful stranger.

beaten, battered, and breathless he finally arrived. and He notices, He always notices, from His perch high above He surveys His creations with a keen eye and a sad grin at the site of one of His children in such a sorry state. He listens and He watches as his child lies in that yard surrounded by natures beauty and begins to cry. sobbing tears of regret flow from his grey eyes into the soil beneath him until the tears and breath no longer leave his body. and there is nothing that He can do but watch this hollow shell of a once proud warrior pass before him. and its the earths turn now, its turn to swallow this former sentry of God into its cold and dark belly like it has done since before creation. tumbling into Gaia's bosom is that fallen warrior, tumbling into the womb in which he was created, falling and laughing, just like those leaves did to him out of spite.

and He watches, and thinks about how badly He wishes that his fallen warrior child could come back to His loving arms. but its too late. it was too late the moment that His son decided to take his first step as a human man. it was too late from the first moment His son realized that the world no longer wanted his help. it was too late from then on, and the years of effort without results wore on him, and broke his once proud spirit. so He watches now, as rain begins to form in the clouds that pass over his final resting place. and He watches as the clouds open, and a steady rain nourishes the ground that only minutes ago took His favorite son and delivered him to the mother that bore him.

2007-10-27T14:36:00.000-05:00

ive realized now that the best moments of my life were the ones spent with you
not due to the moments themselves
but from the enhancement of having you in them
and the mob will call me crazy
and the families will look on with hairy eyeballs
but not one of them knows whats best for me or you
it seems a necessity that we remain together
as
its so few and far between that a person finds their perfect match
the person who was born for them
created specifically and preternaturally
it would be a crime against the gods if we were to ignore it
it would be criminal if we didnt try
and so its time to do just that

2007-10-24T01:48:00.000-05:00

0 comments

its like looking into an empty room
and expecting friends to show up at any given moment

they dont.
get over it.

2007-10-23T10:58:00.000-05:00

concerning the nature of the damage incurred
it was merely dented, nay, bruised
if you can bruise steel that is
when you drunkenly backed your truck into my ride
it might have bent the rear fender just an inch or so maybe
im just glad i wasnt on it at the time of impact

have you considered maybe not drinking before you drive
especially before driving to a liquor store to purchase more intoxicants?
is this something you frequently do
or was this a one time game 7 night type deal?
i only ask out of worry for the next potential ramming device that you dont see out of your rear view mirror
like maybe a shopping cart
or a bicycle
or a stroller burdened with child

or have you considered this one
maybe turning the wheel while backing out of parking spaces?
as i noticed that you decided reverse straight was the best course of action
where i felt that maybe a slight left or right would have served you
and my ride
so much better
anyway...just a morsel for thought

2007-10-23T00:55:00.000-05:00

it seems every time you turn a corner there is another corner that needs negotiating
and its up to you to decide whether or not all these twists and turns lead you back where you started from
and if its even worth turning in the first place
or if going back from whence you came is such a good idea
as the starting point is always the end result of another corner that you chose to follow
and it makes you wonder
can the same pathway full of corners and short straightaways
ever change
or is it how you walk them
and in what condition you do so
that decides the result of the walk

so you choose not to turn left one night
and instead you are met by giant trees and cliff walls and fences of the barbed wire variety
all conspiring to force your direction back onto the primrose path
that of least resistance
but you swore that you wouldnt take that cursed left
so you hurl yourself from that cliffs edge and cling true to a tree branch
and you clumsily repel that massive structure to throw yourself over the gnarled metal fence
tearing your skin in the violent and awkward process
only to find that eventually lefts must be taken
in order to ever get home properly
and all the while you never considered
that all you needed to do was to take three rights and your journey would have been quicker
safer
more efficient
and infinitely more logical

but all roads lead back to home
and youre here now
wondering if tomorrows route will be any different from todays
and if you learned any lesson at all than it should
as its not the roads fault that you dont know how to traverse it
its the operators
i only hope that you fully understand that
before you take one more step

2007-10-20T00:54:00.000-05:00

im not sure that you understand the carnal desires
that tend to well
when i see those large trees swell and sway
in the autumn winds
that send the electric messages to my head
those that tempt
the very insides of my core
the same current that carries the responses of
right and wrong
and knowing the in between that proper belongs
so i sit and ponder
where you lay tonight
and what type of weather you may see
and in what condition you may be
and why i sit alone on this throne
waiting for some retort of rhyme or reason
that may or may not be in thyme
with the season that never comes.

2007-10-17T17:19:00.001-05:00

coming and going
ebbing and flowing
those words typed through miniature telephones
that strike chords like matches do gasoline
combustible and potentially undoing
all these past years of picking up pieces
to a life that had been torn and tattered
so pause
and take a breather
and think about what it is that you want to accomplish
with these words
of encouragement laced with poetic fancies and
lovelorn woe disguised as chicanery and disconnect
but really...
we all know whats happening
hearts break
and then they mend
its the nature of muscle to do so

2007-10-17T15:26:00.000-05:00

a friend said to me over a phone conversation
that boy, can i pick em
and i had to tell him that i never pick em
they tend to pick me
and i sit and fall prey to the trappings
of being pursued
while my sound mind leaves all logic and law behind
and peruses the vast halls of a fantasy land
a place that never existed in the first place
and it dances in those chocolate streams
and smells the heavens flowers
and kicks the caramel leaves
and plays with all the imaginary woodland creatures
until the pursuant decides that she no longer has any purpose for the pursued
and the doors close to that magical land inhabited by
narnia creatures and disney songs
and life goes back to its more pedestrian setting
of dog hair woven into the fibers of the carpet
and fingers raised in an expletive manner towards a choice of transportation
of cold winter whipping winds tossing broken leaves into my face
of mans selfish ways collectively burdening the soil
on which the humble still crawl
and no matter how it is that you may look at it
its understood that this is the life that you have chosen
and its up to me
and you
to change it if we want
or we can sit in these chairs that our asses covet right now
and continue to bitch about the same damn things we always do.

----------------
Now playing: "Rescue Me" by Michael Truckpile
via FoxyTunes

2007-10-16T09:57:00.000-05:00

you got under my skin if only to later shed me off
and it liberated you
freed you from your own self imposed shackles
made you feel accomplished
even more so than you actually did

all those accomplishments and all those tasks
that you hide behind that feign your business
and your busy-ness
all those morsels of intention are merely shade
from the real world that began between you and i

the rat race ends about twelve miles to the south of here
and you skitter about as if it steadily approaches
like the eye of sauron encompasses all the land now
and only you are working to beat back its evil stare
from this little sleepy burb
this shire of bullshit

good luck.

----------------
Now playing: "Nude" by Radiohead
via FoxyTunes

2007-10-12T01:40:00.001-05:00

and this is how its done...

2007-10-11T01:31:00.000-05:00

i can only guess as to when it actually happened
and its sad that i dont know the actual date
but i remember it being a few weeks before thanksgiving
the air had that scent of ripe apple and the leaves had turned a burnt copper
as they always do in that central new york air.
and i recall that pile of puppy breath all squirming about
in that home for the needy that my sister worked overnights
and i inspected the pile of fuzz
that i had pined to see
and came to this conclusion-
that none of those pups would be coming home with me.
and i was about to turn away and leave them where they lay
when from the bottom of that shiny black scrum
arose a little black nose attached to the sweetest puppy face
with oversized floppy ears that i immediately wanted to put into my mouth
and i knew right then and there...
so i picked up that tiny little girl
and stuck her beneath my coat just above my chest
her sweet little snout protruding into that fall air
and left with her.
and through all the bullshit that she has seen
and all the piles of shit that i have cleaned
i can honestly say
that nothing makes me happier
than seeing gaia smile.
happy approximate birthday baby.

2007-10-10T23:53:00.000-05:00

there are only two good things to come out of the life aquatic with steve zissou movie by wes anderson. one was the gun fights- those were fucking awesome- completely ridiculously awesome. the other was the portugese versions of david bowie songs by seu jorge. very much accessible to the listener whilst still being utterly sublime. i encourage you to listen to the tracks posted.

2007-10-10T14:41:00.000-05:00

im staring and wondering and wandering and starting
and beginning to worry that all those things i want
are going to have to come by my own devices
and all those vices that keep me at bay
will never be released through the loving promptings
of another soul
it seems that this journey might be one that i have to go
alone
as it appears to me now that the more i try
to be me with someone
the more i become me with no one
or is it just that i am unable
to just let things be?
it might be the perfect combination of all these
as i type in the dark
waiting for answers to questions ive asked
far too long ago

2007-10-08T11:47:00.000-05:00

the uncomfortable silence
occurring after having climbed alone
out on that thin limb
when its still an uncertainty
on whether or not your weight will cause
or effect the wait of the sound of snapping
creaking
jarring the nerves that bound you
to that precipice in the first place
crawling with your ego exposed
nude to the world it makes you wish
for some sort of signal or noise or anything at all
but none comes
and now youre naked and alone
stuck in a tree
unsure of why you even climbed to such startling heights
until you realize that most sit and stare
at those limbs and never think of perching themselves
and most sit and stare
and will never know the adventure in the attempt
they are too afraid of falling
but its mostly in the ascension and
only partially in the possibility of failing
where the excitement lies

so sit very still on this precarious perch
the branch will make a noise soon
and regardless of its meaning
at least you were brave enough to attempt it

2007-10-05T08:16:00.000-05:00

ive got limited time to pen this note
and i want it to be quaint
and i was going to say something clever
but i forget what it was that i wanted to say
about how much ive been wanting
no...
needing an opportunity as this
for its situations like these
that i become the person that i yearn to be
and its sad
as someone once told me long ago
-youre too influenced by other people-
and the new agers would say its absorbing others energies
and the punks would call it selling out to the masses
and the freaks wouldnt say anything at all
but i say that its important to understand the difference
between being influenced and swayed
and experiencing others while being true to yourself
and i hope that through all this angst and anxiety
that i can stay true to i while showing you the best of me
and if i get swayed by you
well then...
there are worse ways to go than that i guess.

2007-10-03T00:25:00.000-05:00

slow dancing in the garden center of a home depot

ive been granted these two eyes made of chestnut and ivory
to see that which exists in front of me
gifted with memory made from organic compounds
to store insight into that which might occur
endowed with a heart molded from love and agony
to process those two emotions into something that lies between
and its with these tools that i am able to foreshadow
the forthcoming
...yet...
i will continue to strive to sharpen the focus of my eyes
and test the capacity of my memory
and strengthen the muscles of the heart
so that they may be better used by their operator
to better serve you.
i am foreseeing the beginning of great potentiality
and im ready to embrace it
and you
fully

2007-10-02T16:48:00.001-05:00

its friday! and another shift at work has passed through me like an 8 hour mental enema. a quick drive and im at my usual friday dive, collecting my usual chair amongst my unusual usuals. mike is drunk, and wanting to give his phone number to some hipster looking broad who can barely stand on her own two chuck taylors, "thank god i got here when i did dude," i tell him. "A- guys dont give their numbers to girls man. B- that girl doesnt even know her own number to give to you right now. C- just go make out with her for god's sake." i explain to him. so he begins to approach her, and just as he does the girl in question begins to stick her fingers into nicks mouth, nick who sits three chairs to my left in the circle of madness. as this girl uses her fingers like an oral speculum on nicks face, i see mike's face turn into that distorted drunken mess that usually accompanies many a mans face friday nights at the lobster shanty. that silly little horror show that says, "but she was mine!!! fuck!!! why isnt she stretching out my cheeks with her fingers??!!!!" and the answer is always too simple for the drunken minded to grasp, its because you spent all your night fawning over your half empty glass as opposed to enjoying the half full patio of new faces and interesting possibilities.

----------------
Now playing: "Wish Me Well (You Can Go to Hell)" by Bouncing Souls, The
via FoxyTunes

2007-10-01T10:46:00.000-05:00

its october and the sox are in line
the fan is still in the window in anticipation of indian summer
the streets of witch city are thoroughly washed
and the shop keepers are lined up with their cash registers open
the foolish walk through the town and photograph street lights
and other such nonsensicle items
while the locals all pack up their items and move
from one shitty apartment to another
hoping that new parking lots wont be constructed across
from where they live now

its october and the societal snipe hunt is happening
couples are uncoupling while the single
mingle
looking for a warm body to enhance their bed comforters
in the cold upcoming winter
and those winter blossoms will bloom in spite of the bitter
and the bite
and eventually if lucky
will push through the layers of snow and frozen earth
to create roots for the spring and summers warmth

its october now
and those that crave the cool breath from autumns lips
are revelling in the prospects from their sweater closet
no more beach wear on the hips of the hip
no more tan lines on the bits of the twits
and as the leaves skim and sway into the pathways of the foot
and the sleeves lower to respectable lengths
the cheeks grow pink with chilled kisses
and i miss the heat already

2007-09-28T12:30:00.000-05:00

when did this happen specifically?
did i miss a course in school somewhere?
the one where they tell you
that the role of men will now be played by women.
i swear to you that chicks are the new dudes.
right down to the spitting, swearing , crotch grabbing,
emotional disconnect, and beer bellies.
i learn something new every moment
and pay no tuition.
unless you count emotional damage as payment for knowledge.

i swear its time to turn over a new leaf
the one where i stop my philandering
and start adventuring into social circles of respectability.
if only to find women who finish writing their phone numbers
before shoving their tongue in my mouth.
maybe a certain amount of decorum and class would be
a nice change of pace
in this world of the mouth flatulent
and amy winehouse romantic antics.

or maybe its time i nick-cave in
to the new courting habits of the new female breed
and just be happy that im making time with women
in the first place...
if they only knew what kind of heart beat in this chest
and the amount of shit ive shoveled into the deepest
pits and recesses of my mind.
if they only knew...
what a miserable failure i am at relationships
eventually theyll find out
they all do.

so sure,
be the new dudes.
its ok by me as ive been one longer
and i know that we as men never ask more questions than are
necessary.
so follow suit young suit wearing womyn
and pry no deeper than you must
as you might not like what you will blankly nod your head to
as i ramble on for god knows howie-long
and you wish you had never asked that last question
that now makes you forever look at me differently.

2007-09-27T11:14:00.000-05:00

French Fried Grey Matter and the Difference Between Me an You

my boss recently told me that someone once close to me told them that my brain was fried from drugs. and yes, ive dabbled in my share of the illicits, but fried my brain? no. certainly not. if anything my brain might be fried from constant dealings with idiots like the one mentioned above. its these people with their high horses all filled with bullshit that tend to fry the synapses of ye old mental bubbler. these people with their constipated views on the way that others should think, act, or be, like there was no generation better than the one that they might belong to, there are no rules that apply better than the ones that they adhere to, and there is no lifestyle better than the one that they themselves live. ive met all kinds of people in my brief existence, and i can tell you that morons come in all shapes, sizes, color, creed, and most importantly economic class.
i once worked with a fellow, both docile and lumbering in his frame of six foot six, that at one time served in the merchant marines. no small feet, either in being a merchant marine, or those that laid at the end of his ankles. this man once told me in solace that he attributed all his successes to being an early morning riser, and that those that sleep in miss so much opportunity to succeed in the latter part of the day. the thing about this man whose name was Tony, was that he not only carried with him intense knowledge on all subjects- he probably had an IQ far and away above the mendoza line, im guessing 150 or thereabouts- but he was also the worst alcoholic ive ever met. (i can state this claim irrefutably. my education on alcoholism began at an earlier age then most. ask anyone in my family.)
Tony and i would share lunch breaks together when we were both working at a turbine plant making integral pieces to jet engines just outside Troy NY. i would eat my bagged lunch, or if too poor for a brown bag, whatever change i could scrounge together to create a peace meal out of coin operated vending machine fritos and ho hos and 1.00 dollar burritos. (you know youre eating garbage when all the main components of your dinner end in the letters O and S) Tony on the other hand would compile his lunch from a raw potato, or tomato, a slice of bread, and a fifth of rot gut vodka. you know the ones in the plastic bottles that come from such distant and exotic lands as Canada, or Connecticut, or Sommerville, Massachusetts. Tony and i would gnaw on our food in his 1983 honda civic hatchback with a garbage bag electrically taped over his previously smashed and now nonexistent passenger side window in the dead cold of winter. we would talk about how to navigate at sea using only the stars as a compass, or the greatest generals in the history of time, all the while he would slug that fifth until the only thing remaining was vapor. (i was young and stupid, and reading Sun Tzu at that point in my life, so i argued that it was indeed Sun and not Alexander the Great as he would state. like i said- i was young. and stupid) and eventually our conversations would linger into his drunken babblings of being unworthy of Gods love and how he had forsaken his family. and then after 45 minutes of intense dialog we would return to work where eventually Tony would make a complete ass of himself by doing something that only drunk people can do at work... and get away with.
i once went to church with Tony, to prove to him that not only was he James-Worthy of His love, but that he was capable of making amends on a spiritual foundation that he could later use to build upon for further successful impact. six weeks later Tony slept in for what would be the first and last time in his life, as he was found dead in his single room apartment, complete with communal bathroom, that rested above the stockade inn in Schenectady NY. heart failure said the coroners. that foundation that was laid before him had been sledgehammered by his own compulsions. that was the last time that i went to church, its not like i was a regular before that instance, and certainly not that i hold a grudge against christianity or God itself, i was just affected by the experience is all.
*-this is just one example of many of people ive known whose brains are/were fried from their battles with substance abuse. i could write a book, and may still, about my dealings with the underbelly of societies liver.-*
but its times like now, when i hear about those usually pursed lips that looked like an asshole on a mans face, those lips that eventually pinched open and spewed forth shit about me to a boss of mine at my place of business, and in the past when things like this happened i tended to well with venom and acid and strike verbal acrid and let the repercussions figure themselves out after. but not anymore, i know who i am, and am comfortable in my past dealings with humanity to understand the difference between those people who hold honor and integrity as a sword, and those who hold it like Bob Dole does those pens, as a prop to look competent when we all know that a stiff breeze could dislodge that prop from your dead hand that connects to a soft arm that leads to a weak soul. and thats the difference between me, and people like that pursed lipped man. honor is a sword that i keep sheathed, integrity is a pen that you sir, lose daily. good luck to you in finding and holding on to what it is that you have lost.

2007-09-26T09:02:00.000-05:00

with the cat nibbling at the top of the water jug
and the dog buried underneath the shroud of sleep
and the breeze caressing the drapes into a free form dance
its any wonder that i get out of bed at all.

its easily the fuzziest warmest place on earth
its like disney
with not nearly as many daily visitors
but just as fun.

its gaia's play pen and wrestling arena
its chainsaws favorite place to sneak attack in the dark
its my favorite movie chair in the house
and my favorite writing one as well.

and i wonder why im writing this shit about a bed
and i wonder this as its 9 am and 75 degrees outside
and ive got wiring to do on the bike.
i wonder no more.

2007-09-23T00:35:00.000-05:00

sometimes
like now for instance
i need nothing more
than to be left alone
from the constant foot traffic
or vehicular variety
of mouths dripping sweat and not so sweet
tasting fumes of the dead
as they batter the ears with question
after question born from idiocy
and aural dilutions
and all i really want is this screen
gaia
and maybe a warm ass to curl up to at night
and even then
i feel like im never really alone
but it certainly feels better
than ever being lonely.

2007-09-21T01:46:00.000-05:00

the world is run by the crooked cricked cracked-out and cantankerous
and all the news reports it in such a white collar cocksucking method that tends to make me
not want to read such publications.
and this is why the paper media is a dying form of money laundering.

do you all know that the ads are the first things to print in paper media????
and those old advertisements that said "all the news thats fit to print"
to lure you into a kinder gentler state of news media
were a spin on what actually matters most to those multinational corporations of wanton lust.
the actual methodology is this:
all the news that fits. thats what prints.
and all the news that fits????
well...???
it sucks.
and its boring,
and it exists in order to create order.
and its solely responsible for the automatizing of a general public who are simply too afraid to create a little disharmony in order to create a general chorus of union.

and i wonder how such sites as the onion news network are spawned.
and then i open my door.
and the bile starts to maneuver through simple rhythmic pulsations in my gulliver
and it moves swiftly through the constantly nervous system and onwards
to the control room that is the central cortex.
and it all spills out in technicolor at my feet with which i stand at attention
for a prayer and song
that our grandfathers and mothers perished in which to save
and they perished to save it ,and us, from precisely what it has become.
a place where the american dream has become a 30 second advertisment
in between the public viewings of physical beatings and emotional starvations.
a commercial and economical failure.

----------------
Now playing: "The White Sheet" by Scarface
via FoxyTunes

2007-09-18T01:07:00.002-05:00

weekend recap bulletin style

-got hit by a car whilst riding my moped friday afternoon. ol boy decided that taking a right hand turn from the left lane was both legal and binding. it damned near bound me to a fucking street sign when my bike jumped four feet in the air and landed on the grass of the side walk. somehow, someway, i was not going to allow this fucktard to see me spill. so through sheer will and decidedly gracious luck, i ended up with both feet on the bike, and then luckily on the street. both of us are in good health. the bike and i- i should say. and yes many words were spoken between the offending driver and i, most of which included these gems from my mouth; "fuck" "retard" "idiot" "lucky" and "lawsuit".

-got a cane swung at me whilst walking down my street to my favorite local establishment to meet up with some friends friday night by an elderly gentlemen in a straw hat and brown suit. as i was walking behind him, for some reason, i envisioned him in my mind swinging that dull weapon at me. and sure enough, as my shadow crossed over his line of vision ahead of us, he stopped, turned like stale lightning, and threw me a slapshot of decrepit angst into my previously alerted pathway. missing wildly. he said he was sorry, and that he just got scared, but i know to this day that he just got out played.

-later that evening a girl with 40 inch legs and a smile to die for picked me up, rather successfully, at that usual friday evening spot. cool chick. if not only because she thought i was cute. lunch this wednesday. drinks this friday

-a marshmallow fight ensued, lit only by campfire light, and i felt like i was back at saratoga preforming arts center sitting on the lawn. very happy.

- and of course...work. and all the fucking nonsense that it carries with it.

-and then this morning im doing my internetting when i stumble upon this story. look into the comments section, you might find a name youre remotely familiar with.

so yeah. yet another strange weekend that shall soon be turned into paragraphs of nonsense.
hope yours was as fun as mine.
=j=

2007-09-14T21:54:00.000-05:00

my kisses are like goodbyes
and my hello's are like low blows
or so you told me
and now im sitting here alone
wondering exactly what you meant
while you go dancing with the rest
and im in bed typing these words that make no sense
with little to no emote left
and i wonder why i care
or if i even do at all
so i come to these conclusions of contusions
that girls dislike being rebuffed as much as some men fear it
and that makes all the sense in the world
for as much as i like to be liked
i didnt like being liked by you
it was forced and i felt coerced
and all the social pressures couldnt keep me from
dumping you

2007-09-11T19:17:00.000-05:00

by the way
its september 11 today.
dont go celebrating like cory lidle.

2007-09-11T18:01:00.000-05:00

Boo Boo Kitty Fuck and the Mystery of the Two Underpants

i once overheard my neighbor talking to her male gay friend about how they should use her personal pleasure device on each other. so he took his pants off while he waited on the upstairs back porch for her to come back and upon her return she removed her pants to then squeal with drunken chubby college girl delight,"im wearing two pairs of underwear!" i didnt stick around for the finale, a friend of mine and i were discussing how best to beef up a 1976 motobecane moped, and needless to say we were both a bit queezed out by the multiple possible endings. i later sold that moped due to the graphic nature with which it existed in my mind from that point forward, the buzzing from the engine through the seat and into my ass was too much for me to handle. i felt ruined for months, no contact with the fairer sex for me, i said. and then i find this kitten on my street...

during a smoke break from a late nite card game, as my company and i were trying our best to circumvent certain cancer from our piss poor habit, i asked the girl of the group if she was wearing bells on her shoes. ( she's young and an artist and a nut job, so i wouldnt put it past her) it was when she responded quizzically and i looked down from the porch that i noticed a small brindle coated kitten wearing a red collar and bell. before i knew it i was sliding down my porch beams and leaping onto the ground below in order to inspect the curious wanderer. she walked over to me and i snatched her up and brought her into the house.
she met the dog, then her little claws met the insides of my hands as she lept to the top of the door frame completely ape shit insane. gaia looked up at me and gave me that "are you fucking kidding me" look. "she's not staying." i said, like the dog could possibly understand or even care. then she met the cat, and began hissing uncontrollably, growling at her every move. sensing this was not good to chainsaw's new found life of zen i proposed one of my card friends remove this kitten from my home before chainsaw starts pissing on everything not bolted down in the apartment. and sensing that my buddy mike had just broken up with his longtime girlfriend i figured him to be the best bet, as he might want some female company for the evening.
so mike took boo boo kitty fuck (that was her name) and texted me until 445 in the am about every stupid thing from- where do i put the cat dish in relation to the litter box? to- she's sleeping on me. to- i hate this little devil beast. call a priest dude! i think she's possessed!!! i ignored them all. things went well and i forgot all about boo boo kitty fuck until sunday night when in the midst of a rousing football game between two teams i could not care less about (read giants and dallas) mike called me fourteen times to find out who was taking the cat where and when. you see he had to work and by god all mighty no cat should be in his place upon his return from a hard day of sitting on his ass in an office full of ugly people.
so monday i bring the kitty into the shelter as no one responded to my signs of PLEASE GET YOUR KITTEN WITH A BELL ON OUT OF MY HOUSE BEFORE I SELL IT TO THE CHINESE REST.!!!! with my phone number plastered on it. the shelter women, all of whom looked most likely like the women that work in mike's office except frumpier and covered in fur, took boo boo kitty fuck and placed her in the general population area of cell block c along with a retarded dachsund, six terriers from peurto rico (you could tell they were peurto rican as they were blasting that song gasolina out of their cages), and some other furry kittens easily more adorable then herself. and it was over, or so i thought.
monday night im on respite from working with the north shore of massachusetts finest when a lady calls me. she says in her own way that the kitten is her neighbors and she lives at house number 219. "why im your neighbor, the skinny one." i say. "oh hey, weve met." she drools and hisses. i swear i think she wakes up with a cocktail of bloody mary and percosets. the cat belongs to the college girls next to her and they dont take very good care of it, she explains. " well its at the shelter now. im sure theyll take better care of it there." i say. and then i get the phone number of her collegiate neighbor girls and call them sternly.
me-are you missing a cat?
girl-yes! do you have it?
me-no. do you know that there are signs for it not twenty feet away from your house distinctly saying that I have your kitten.
girl- i didnt see them.
me- well theyre there! did you not go looking for your kitten after you lost her?
girl- i didnt know she was missing.
me-for two days?!?!
girl- do you have her or not?
me- shes at the shelter on highland ave. good luck.
girl- thanks.
me- and another thing! are you a blonde?
girl- ummm yeah.why?
me- lookit. this is twice now ive had to deal with your pussy. once when you were on your porch with your perez hilton friend battery blasting each other. and now this. im getting tired of it. keep your pussy indoors.
girl-...holy shit. im so sorry. and thanks again.
me- anytime. good luck with your boo boo kitty fuck.
girl- whu?

and that is where that ended. turns out that someone adopted that kitten rather quickly, and that girl is very sad, and i cant say i blame her. as a matter of fact i feel massively responsible for boo boo being picked up so quickly, and it makes me upset to think that that girl is missing her friend tonight. and i do feel bad, i really do, but hearing her voice over the phone did so much damage to my sex drive again that i really cant say if i might ever be the same. i should have asked her if she's still wearing two pairs of underwear...and why???

2007-09-08T12:28:00.000-05:00

conversations with doormen at the local discotech

four dollars to get in here? i asked the doorman
what's the draw?
i mean if im paying to get into a place that im going to be spending money at then dazzle me. wax me some allure, paint me a picture with words, make me want to pay you the price of a drink so i can go in and buy a drink.
he looked at me like i was nuts and spewed forth this glistening pearl of elocution-
well, its five dollars across the street.
oh well in that case then. do you have a live band? i wondered aloud.
no, but we have a dj. he replied
so you want me to pay to hear someone spin his i-pod, an i-pod which is almost certainly inferior to mine in musical quality?
look...are you going in or not?!? i could smell frustration welling up from within him
so you want me to pay four dollars to go into this place that i can hear someone play their Mtv tunes so that girls can dance while their low cut shirts and push up bras do their fabrical best to disguise the fact that theyve got bigger beer bellies than all the men in my extended family? i dont think so dude. thanks anyway though.
-and i walked with my posse of anxious a-listers to the next watering hole feeling satisfied that i didnt get my ass beat by the cro-mag majoring in i.d checking at the door of the shittiest bar in salem. god o'neals is an embarrassment to all the irish named pubs in the world, those places called murphy's, or mcgleashes, or paddy o'sheas, or the dirty limerick, or erin go bra-less. ya know those spots, theres one in every college town, its usually the first place your overly developed female friend first got served a drink well before she was 21, having no idea what to order she probably got a beer, then realized she hates the taste so she drank four of em to wash away the flavor in her mouth, then vomited all over her fuck me pumps. anyway- that girl grew up to be that young woman who now drinks captain morgans like the company is having a fire sale, her overly developed frame never stopped developing in all those wrong female places, and she sometimes sits on the corner of the street at last call afraid that her best years are like those fuck me pumps she tossed into the trash so many years ago. well behind her and forgotten. i think about her as we walk to that next watering hole for an instant, then put her out of my mind as a stiff game of foosball is soon to begin.

2007-09-08T03:03:00.000-05:00

this is the color of my innards

and it just has to wake you up at some ungodly hour
this feeling of compromised stomach linings
and churning acids of boweled conception
and it makes you think to the last thing you just had to
stuff in your word hole-
that intake and output valve of the wretched and loud-
and you remember cheeses built from only the finest
of manufactured oils and saturated fats
and of beef cut from the purest cows
in all czechoslovakia
drenched in sauces that would make even the most hearty
of french chefs faint.
and you wonder why? and what?
what on earth would make you imagine
that this delicacy of only fourth world countries would go well
with the amount of booze
and tobacco
and two stroke fume that are firmly entrenched in your
skeletal ecosystem as of this moment.
and why on gods green earth do people even consider
these moments of dabbling in the black arts of epicurian wizardry
such as
the super roast beef three way
or the steak bomb
or the lobster roll.
and i wonder this as my homeostasis bobs and weaves
to the nonexistent wallpaper that seems to have anchored itself
to the synethesiac colored and currently unfixated walls of my room.
as demonic grumblings erupt from the vesuvious
that is my now violently emotional guts.
as tears of fryer grease
slowly make their way towards my outstretched tongue.

2007-09-07T09:40:00.000-05:00

stop dressing your kids like theyre fucking lawyers

so i was at work the other day and this teenaged boy, obviously mentally challenged/ or handicapped/ or retarded/ or whatever the fuck we call "them" now, busted through the double doors and screamed- in that blood curdling style that only a teenaged mentally whatevered boy could do- MOM!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and the mother reacted as she does probably sixty four times a day, like it was just another hiccup in the days events, but the rest of the store...oh that was a different story all together. it seems that marblehead mothers and their expensively swaddled little children all named griffin, or phoenix, or jesus, or after someones last name that they might admire like rove, or carusoe, or kennedy or some fucked up shit like that apparently dont get to see too many mentally whatevered teenage boys, as simultaneously three hundred or so rich twats shit their expensive knickers and leapt four feet in the air. upon their groundly arrival the collective thud was loud enough so that every bmw, lexus, mercedes, and land rover's alarm begun to sound, that being every car in the lot i can tell you it was a massive cacophony of beeps and buzzes.
this got me to thinking though as inevitably every child in that store would ask that burning question to their mother, or nanny, or au pair, or whomever. and that question as we all know is this, "what's wrong with that boy?" and the mothers responses would be something like this, "oh griffin, he's a very special boy, but he shouldnt be treated differently in anyway...blah blah circle of life disney movie bullshit blah blah. but I know... I get it. and if i could in my power to one day be that old curmudgeonly bastard who says whatever the fuck is on his feeble mind, than i would tell that kid this-
"look son, when god is picking mommies for little babies HE decides who is strong enough to deal with a tough life and who is not. you see only HE understands that everything we go through everyday is a test of our makeup and ourselves, and some people are better equipped to deal with blind spots on the car of life, or in this case, fucking ape shit teenaged mentally handicapped young boys. you see you got lucky when you were born, that golden laced vaginal chute that you dropped out of was especially chosen for you as both you and your mommy and daddy are emotional pussies and will never have to deal with anything like what that strong once probably beautiful woman goes through every moment of her life. so remember this when youre on the playground one day soon and you decide to get some marblehead street cred by picking on the easiest prey, like that boy over there you fucking soon to be popped collar little douche. remember these words forever."
and then i would scream into his face for a good two minutes, just to really drive the point home, ya know? and all this hatred and repressed anger because of two little things. and i swear this- if parents didnt dress their kids in those fucking croc shoes or the latest keens style or in better clothes than i wear than i would be fine. but jesus-fuckin-christ-on-a-popsicle-stick no!!!! little manson needs to keep up with little blair down the street and just needs those little cufflinks and matching little ascot.
*-needle pierces skin-*
bah!!!! whatever. i feel much better now. thank you doctor.
the end.

2007-09-07T09:31:00.001-05:00

i tried thinking of something clever to say to you
but all i could come up with was 'fuck you'
the words, sometimes they flow like water,
other times they ramble like a four year olds turrets riddled tongue
all aspergered and frightening to the general public.
anyway-
yeah, in trying to figure out a fancy lead in,
or conversational springboard,
i realized i find you to be,
most of the time that is,
juvenile at best,
and at worst a carbon copy of the things you see in those uber fucking cool snowboarding magazines that you have taped up to your walls like you were some sort of twelve year old boy.
which is what i believe you to be,
emotionally that is,
and i realized that i could only like you a little less than i like run on and bumbling sentences that carry me into four different corridors of my mind.
and so i say this to your offer-
no i will not be coming to your fucking party.
thanks for the invite though.
(insert smiley face texty bullshit here)

2007-09-06T00:35:00.000-05:00

first time big shit hollywood movie review

the film being reviewed today will be the new rob zombie remake of halloween starring people ive never heard of and sherrie moon zombie. ive only ever vaguely heard of her due to her being semi attractive and as a stone cold man i need to keep abreast of these matters. halloween, the original was one of my favorite horror movies when i was a kid, so im going into this review a bit jaded already, but i digress. so without further adieu i give to you my review of halloween 2007:

2007-09-05T23:52:00.000-05:00

general public convo's and barbs:
i.e. retards...all of us.

lady at the cashier: there is writing on this screen.
cashier: yup.
lady: how do i make it go away.
cashier: those are the items you are purchasing.
lady: but how do i make it go away.
cashier: you pay for your purchase.

girl on the phone: how could you let him go out? he's sick!!!
boy on the phone: what do you mean?
girl: he's your friend! you know he's sick, why did you let him go out with you?
boy: friend yes. father impossible as all my kids were aborted.
girl:.....

girl at my work: are you hiring?
me: i dont do the hiring, but yes, i believe so.
girl: so where do i get an application?
me: at the office.
girl: where is that?
me: look for a group of people in hawaiian shirts doing absolutely nothing. the office wont be far from there.

2007-09-05T01:15:00.000-05:00

crawling towards the finish line of woe
i spy you from my point of view
silly sad and tired huffing last vestiges of breath
scratching your lungs for forgiveness
and receiving only shame from the onlookers
ITS NOT A RACE
reads the sign above the rat
and yet it certainly feels like one doesnt it?
and its a race to see who can get offended first
in these overly sensitive and emotional times
of sad sacks and sorry saps
all love lorn and forlong shuffling towards what seems to be
an almost certainly gray day
in a morose world of dark existence.
to all those in that particular race i say to you this:
grow up.

2007-09-04T15:11:00.000-05:00

like a mexican japanese hybrid skull flower, sylvia ji is one of my favorite painters going right now. her use of vibrants and essence makes me fall in love with her subjects on impact. the studies are like frank miller women come to your bedroom wall, valkyrie's all of them, strong and blessed by nature and god. its inevitable that these need to hang on the support beams of my home.

henry lewis on the other hand is THE new premier tattoo artist in this country. limited as is work may be this cat is on the cutting edge -no pun intended- of tattoo artistry. turning skin into canvas one needle at a time, his use of shading, his lines, the subject matter, fucking awesome.

2007-09-03T03:29:00.000-05:00

just a keepey upee for the weekend-
ive laid with the devil
spent darts with meth head steroidal gargantuans
met the girl of my dreams
inhaled fourteen pounds of wood fire smoke
tip toed the the line of recreational fun
and rehabilitational excess
and smiled
a bunch

2007-09-01T19:37:00.000-05:00

i wanna eat a whole cake followed by a case of dr. pepper
i wanna fill my belly with shit to my eyes
i wanna be that fat fucker waddling down the street
pleased as punch drunks chafing his inner thighs im sure
but alas no
im to be forever wiry and pliable
here's to rapid metabolic rates
my next slice of cake is on you.

2007-08-31T10:18:00.000-05:00

the not sure

id love to make somewhere my home
somewhere that isnt quite here nor there
where postage is an unknown monetary amount
drakma's or rubles or rupees or some such
and police vehicles consist of bicycles or golfcarts or polar bears
and women are new to me in my foreign appearance
they could be brown or yellow or porcelain or beige
and walk with that overseas confidence
as it seems this place is running its course
and those cookie cutter lives that brush elbows
with all of the other assholes that live such
convoluted and misdirected lives
make me want to vomit acrid lashes of verb and noun

2007-08-31T01:45:00.000-05:00

holy hot shit i wrote alot this month. nothing worse than someone who doesnt know when to shut the "f" up says i. hopefully this is a trend that can continue. been kicking around a few ideas as to reworking this page, so bear with me as i try out some new formatting, new techniques, new styles and such.

2007-08-31T00:16:00.000-05:00

phones buzzing like a wounded hummingbird littered with buckshot that struggles to hover over the firm earth that lies two feet below its collapsing frame. late evening lonely nights of rejecting phone calls like women do those nice guys who want nothing more than to be that bad boy who tends to get those very same women. thursday nights in front of the computer screen that glows like the mercury emitted from blown light bulbs that at one time illuminated the room in which i write this. photos of those past dalliances that tend to dance through the infinite space of the web like woodland fairies on crystal meth crashing clumsily into my view with such regularity that i feel as if i have set traps for them unbeknown to myself. and all i want to do is sleep like gaia and eat like the cat and pray like my grandparents and love like my nieces and nephew and parents and be proud like my sister and sing like tom waits. but mostly just sleep.

2007-08-29T17:26:00.000-05:00

there is a new link on the right for banksy. graffiti art, when done well, is as good as any shit hanging on the walls of the louvre, in my opinion, and this guy is the best. if youve heard of him- well ladi-da for you, and if you havent- get your shit together. anyway...just sayin is all. check it out.

2007-08-29T16:48:00.000-05:00

I PISSED IN BUKOWSKI'S TOILET

went to newbury street yesterday and watched the mongrels buy jeans that cost as much as some families make in a month of working in certain foreign countries. my word those mongrels can shop. meanwhile a lady with one half of one working leg and only one good arm sat in her wheelchair in the middle of the street muttering help. help. help. no one could help her, only god i imagine could save her from the pathetic existence that is her life. but all digressions aside- we ate at fire and ice, flipped off the civic planners in the next building because we can, drank whiskey and ran through the city like we were golden griffins brazened by the fuel and by the world itself. we did more of the newbury street thing, yes i bought some shit, no it wasnt expensive, and then made the short walk to mecca. lying on the end of scotia st. (of course it would be the name of my hometown) was bukowski's tavern. no more whiskey for us though, as one of our party members was only 19 and wasnt allowed to take in the scenery of the visage of chuck plastered everywhere. smoking, drinking, writing, laughing, soon to be drunk, hungover, or just plain old drunk. i pissed in the urinal, grabbed my satchel of goods and left mecca, thirsty and worn from the day, i turned and watched that tavern disappear over the footbridge that we used to grab the train that took us back home, where the bars arent named after literary genius', but do the job just the same.

2007-08-29T15:48:00.000-05:00

i think i get it now. the metro north area of boston, as it is, is filled with crazy people. mostly women. mostly brunettes. mostly nuts. when did this happen? who is responsible for this overpopulation of mentally deficient ladies and their retarded nonsensical ways? i want some fucking answers!!! and i want a soccer stadium built in somerville so i dont have to travel 2 hrs to see a goddamned soccer game. answers!!! gimme!!!

2007-08-25T19:16:00.000-05:00

----------------
Now playing: "Midnight Mile" by Bouncing Souls, The
via FoxyTunes

its because i get nervous
that is the ultimate reason for my own failures
and its because of this debilitating disease
that i tend to trip over the roots in the forest
while running from the demon monster
in the movie in my head.
when in actuality-
i should just stop
turn around
and punch that fucker right in its fat nose
sending him boo-hoo-ing back to its cave dwelling
or where ever the hell it slumbers during the day.
and this is why i will eventually lose you.
its easy for me to cave
to your dwellings
and your secrets are safe with me
as you never share them
and secrets that are untold soon become lies
and those lies are the roots that grow in the forest
of your mind
that i trip over while running my fingers through your hair
as i lie next to you
nervous
that we might accidentally figure each other out
that each of us has that demon monster
slumbering within us
and our true selves are the ones running from it
and its this nervousness that i feel
because i like you
and THAT is saying alot.

----------------
Now playing: "They'll Soon Discover" by The Shins
via FoxyTunes

2007-08-25T16:51:00.000-05:00

the clouds today formed the shape of jesus' face
his snowy beard rippling between the blues
and he showed his love over the park in which
we flung frisbees and slugged water and smoked tobacco
as not fifty yards away from our communion
jesus pride day set up their tents in the salem commons
garish bumper stickers emblazened their vehicles
for instance-
91101 massachusetts terrorist hunter id number
spoke a sticker on the side window of a honda passport
driven by a gentlemen decked out in full clown regalia
no bloody jihadist would ever suspect the clown
no one ever does.
15 people were in the park that day
including the four frisbee players who were decidedly not
showing their jesus pride
the other 11 people,
8 of which were in the family band playing in the veranda
for the other 3 people in the park,
one of which was a police officer
did however show enough jesus pride
to make that pillowy cloudy jesus face
grin a little
and let me say this
the power of 10 suns cannot match the warmth
of jesus' smile.
i think it has something to do with his bone structure
high cheeks and all.
Amen

----------------
Now playing: "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds" by Beatles, The
via FoxyTunes

2007-08-24T12:46:00.000-05:00

a little haircut
and some johnny cash to soothe the time
while i wait for a moment of peace
to sneak up behind me and massage
those tense coiled hot springs
welling up within this diminutive frame
i call
me

2007-08-23T20:35:00.000-05:00

MIDNITE NAVIGATIONS

relationships are crashing against the harbor rocks
and friends are sent careening into the bay
its difficult to watch from my vantage point
up in that hilltop tower
the masts that once flew their flags so proudly
now crack from the pressures of unbearable weight
splintering the social dynamic that used to bond them true
as those ships sink into the murky memories
of their undoing
i can only toss life preservers and give words of encouragement
that go unheard from that tower
over the sounds of the screaming and inconsolable wails

2007-08-22T21:11:00.000-05:00

okay-
one more before i slumber
one more to ease my racing mind
only these words and the feeling behind them
to chase those thoughts from my spinning head

months ago
when there were no prospects on the horizon
and the well seemingly had been gone parched
i wrote of the ideal woman
and its these words that are soon to follow
that show my exuberance and my good fortune
of finding exactly her
now all i have to do is find a way to keep her

so i leave you with this simple phrase
after this simple mantra-
make me want to be the person that i know i could be
i would be all those things
not only for me, but for you too

"im a happy dude!!!"- jeff blatnick 1984 us olympics

----------------
Now playing: "I Want You Soo Hard (Boy's Bad News)" by Eagles of Death Metal, The
via FoxyTunes

2007-08-22T17:45:00.000-05:00

EAST COAST HOMIES vs. WEST COAST BITCHES

los angeles and las vegas are dead cities
cold and endless in their expansive downtown districts
sterile and futile are the forces that control those decrepit streets
where lawlessness is the order of the day
those days that last for 6 hours
to make more room for the everlasting dusks
that roll into those tumbling nights
of gambling and the bullshit that the socially retarded do
such as
desperately trying to impress the shit out of everyone around them
creating trends that will have passed before they catch on
or creating new venereal diseases to pass to each other through
plasticine complexions and wooden smiles
the newly minted depravity
of los sodom and las gommorah

2007-08-22T16:58:00.000-05:00

so pretty you could live off interest alone
from all those that desire your time
and from the idiots who cannot tell the difference
between money and time well spent
ive got a fuzzy eyeball for all of you thick fuckers
keep popping the collar of your pink polo shirt
reckon youre leif garrett do you?
a regular soch eh?
retards
all of u

2007-08-21T11:20:00.000-05:00

the little boy who loved to slide down those stalactites
that hung for centuries and yet seemed so precarious
dangling through the sheer power of mysterious history
his arms would wrap the coarse crystalline surface
legs locked ankle over ankle
embracing the form made from time and water
skittering downward to the floor of the caves
that he would adventure through daily til dusk fell
accompanied by his scraggly mutts tail flittering
chasing those cave rats and flying rodents contently
adventuring with his best friend and owner where no one
had ever stepped foot before and soon would not again.
i never asked the boy how he climbed to the top of those stone structures
im sure he would never have dispelled his secrets to me.

he was always a secretive little boy
carrying a cave quartz formed naturally into the shape of a humpback whale
in his miniature pocket on his left hand side
a yellow pocket knife that his grandfather had bestowed to him on his right
the knife had been boned to prevent chipping on its face
its twin blades worn to half their original size from constant usage
and always dog biscuits in his back pockets for that scraggly mutt of his
the dog that had no name
as it followed his little master instinctively and without question
as if they were linked psychically through lifetimes of friendship
a union that was blessed since the imagining of unions.

that little boy who slid so freely through those caves
with that unnamed mutt ever present
would tell stories of hidden dragon bones buried deep in the wells of those caves
and of secret underground societies of subhumans who lived peacefully
far from the pressures of the above ground world
eventually never came back from one of his daily excursions
and the townsfolk wept out of fear of permanent loss.

a search party was assembled in the town hall two days after his disappearance
but found that the entrance to the cave had been blocked by boulder and rock
and again they wept for fear of his inevitable and slow demise
it was then amongst the tears and hysterical mourning that i
came across a rather queer find in front of that blockaded door to the cave
a cave quartz that was unmistakenly formed in the shape of a humpback whale
and i wondered-
what if his fantastical stories of underground societies werent so far off?
and i think about that little boy and his mutt to this day when i look at that quartz whale
and i wonder...
if i could un-bury that cave entrance and see for myself the world in which he now resides
or is it only in the mind and eye of a child can the wonders of a natural world be seen?
i smile now for you little boy
and i pray that your secrets are kept forever secret in that underground world.

2007-08-20T23:38:00.000-05:00

better to die on your feet than to live on your knees

what kind of "man" rechecks his text messages for hidden innuendo's
or slipped by mis-understandings
or grammatical errors?
this kind i suppose
this small little neurotic wide eyed emotionally narcoleptic "man"
the kind that worries about rip tides during night swims
or of strange algae diseases while pond swimming
the one who checks his alarm four times before being able to slumber
semi-peacefully
i swear-
i think i was mishandled at the hospital during birth
the nurses confused me with another baby
i know im jewish
ive got all the internal sensibilities

so yeah
im tired
and i know im in need of a good nights rest
but i cant sleep knowing this-
that you are only a short distance away
and you should be here
lying next to me
comforted by this comforter
and warmed by this heart-
that very same heart that needs to recite its own cadence
over and over again until it feels comfortable
playing its rhythm publicly

so i ask again
what kind of "man" is this?
and the answer is simple plain and clear
the romantic kind
the kind that over-thinks
due to severe heart trauma suffered in the past
the kind that refuses to let past sufferings impede future romantic potentiality
and THAT...
is the kind of "man" that i can be proud to be
the "man" who sticks his head into the lions mouth for the mere thought of possibility
as opposed to the "guy"
who sticks his head in the sand
for fear of rejection.

2007-08-20T11:50:00.000-05:00

what did the snail say while riding on the back of a turtle?

nice girls make me smile
like a retard
and make my wallet feel
heavier than it actually is
they make me seem stronger
than i am
and look cooler
than i ever could be
my empty belly
feels full with them
and my mind and wit
are quicker
sharper

and yes
im still taking it slow

but ive realized this-
you cant be afraid
of past transgressions or
the previous experiences
that led to this bout of singledom
you can only
be you and hope that
that is good enough

but yes
im taking it slow

WEEEEEEE!!!!!!!

2007-08-17T11:14:00.000-05:00

you placed me on that pedestal
and watched your vicarious ego
as it drifted through the ocean holding fast and tight
through the midnight waves
tumbling with the girl of your dreams
and all you had to do
and all you ever needed
was to remove me from that lofty perch
the one that i never could be fully expected
to meet
and start placing yourself on it
and stop living vicariously
through someone with so little

2007-08-16T17:20:00.001-05:00

Boo-fucking-Hoo

a little tickle me Emo on the underbelly of my arm
or is it simply an admission of medical fact
that there are holes in the whole of my heart
and the ink resides to remind
me
not to impress you
if i wanted that result i would have permanently placed
a sad faced jack skellington
winnie the pooh hanging by a noose
fugazi lyrics
or worse yet
a patriots tag
a green 33
or bobby orr's toothless grin on my wrist
sure-
maybe it is a little emo
and maybe youre a little dim
but when youre born broken hearted as i was
dim goes with the territory
so to answer your silly query
no.
im not emo.
and no.
its not all over a girl.
and no.
i wont go see the Evanescence concert with you.
now go back to your daddy and mommy
weeping
that someone was mean to you
and i pray that they tell you to do something that
should have been done long ago
-to shut the fuck up-

----------------
Now playing: "Hope" by Descendents
via FoxyTunes

2007-08-07T22:42:00.001-05:00

the difference between an artist and an intellectual. for years ive said an intellectual is someone who makes something easy look difficult, while an artist is someone who makes something difficult look easy. i still hold this to be true, i wonder now though- what does it take to be an artist? is it complete disregard for society and the normal views that are carried by the masses? is it pure unadulterated devotion to the work, the betterment of yourself, in the process? is it the drive to continue to come back again and again after many inglorious defeats? or do all artists start as intellectuals, and only become once the understanding has been met- that they are not yet an artist, and never will they be one until they realize this.
anyway- i wonder this out-loud to you as ive been blessed with many wonderful friends in my lifetime. most of whom i would consider artists, or fringe artists at worst, but now i know. after tripping over an old friend on the internet through sheer dumb luck ( actually i was looking at a painting of kat von d, a tattoo artist and soon to be the cover girl for a small cable television station, when i realized the painting was done by an old chum of mine) that ive only known one true artist in my lifetime. and THAT is way more than most people have.
so i consider myself lucky. lucky to know not only the shawn barber's of the world, but also the fringe artists. the people who stay connected to the artists, who teach of their skills and provide the world the service of producing their works for you to see for the first time. enjoy the new link on the side page. this is art. sdbarber.com katvond.net

2007-08-04T19:01:00.000-05:00

SUMMER BEDDING

when the moon flashes over the salem harbor
and the scent of the ocean wafts over the smoke
from the fire in the yard
and when the 49point5 cc engine is marauding
the local cobbled streets
and the ladies are grinning coyly
and the boys are screaming obscenities
i smirk crookedly
knowing
that soon this fresh ink will dry
and again i will be
sitting next to that fire
staring at the stars
while the tobacco flows freely
under that blanket of cool night.

----------------
Now playing: "Drunk Trumpet" by Kid Koala
via FoxyTunes

2007-08-03T18:50:00.000-05:00

ive carved my intials in an old frozen oak
and pissed my name in the face of the snow
ive sat in the rain next to that electric fence
and stumbled through streams in december

there were times that i didnt know why
i would drive headlong into walls
until i met you

and you taught me
that no matter how dense and deliberately
imbecilic
i can be
youll always be one step ahead of me

so now i lick those fences of coarsing current
and lie in those frozen streams
i carve my name in the slush
and piss on that oak
where my initials embolden its trunk

----------------
Now playing: "London Dungeon" by The Misfits
via FoxyTunes

2007-08-01T02:31:00.000-05:00

ligament damage from stretching my limbs
its all your GODdamned fault
as the tendons beyond their capacity
reach for lengths beyond their limits.
and this is the feeling
of me searching for YOU
in this dead sea
of expensive cockroaches and wealthy white trash.
throwing traps daily for the sake of
itself
in the end
no bait is enough
no catch is imminent.

2007-07-31T00:39:00.000-05:00

ive been letting myself go as of late. this site. no words to explain the lack of interest i have in relaying my emotion through it. for now.
ill be back. i just need a bit of a recharge. its hot out. and the birds and clouds beckon for my company. i couldnt possibly turn them down.
camping for a bit. riding alot. saving money. drinking cheaply. this is my new life.
i need 25000 dollars for an idea. someone give it to me. i probably wont pay you back. but it will make me and others very happy.
so there you have it.
now give it to me.

2007-07-25T13:08:00.000-05:00

next year i want to moped four days out and camp. sleep under the stars with some friends and drink out of a bottle while sitting by a fire, back aching from the miles logged, mind racing from the scenery chewed. wake up the next day and keep going left, or straight, or anywhere the map tells us to go. i want it to be my last great adventure before its time for me to officially grow into the man that ive been expected to become since birth. it will happen, as ive got the will to make it so.

2007-07-21T18:18:00.000-05:00

i stood at one check out lane
and you stood in the next
i had that cat food in hand
and you some bread and chips
you were proud of flatulence
or so stated your t-shirt that was
tucked into your jean shorts
that were slowly creeping up to your chin
"i fart in your general direction"
read your shirt
classy i thought
your wife is one lucky lady
and i quietly moved on with my day
desperately trying to stay as far
up wind from people like you
as possible
the end.

2007-07-09T13:05:00.000-05:00

copa america is the south america tournament which we were graciously invited to. invited to play against teams like argentina and brazil and uruguay and colombia and ecuador. good senior national teams. some of the best soccer in the world.
the u-20 world cup is happening in canada right now. this tournament consists of the best under twenty teams in the world. sans france, england, holland, germany. freddy adu looks like a god on the field there as opposed to the whiny little kid he portrays on the fields of mls.
thats the difference. in canada the US team is kicking ass. in panama the US team were getting their asses kicked. whatever the u-20's do in the world cup, theyll never recoup what happened in panama. that set US back another five years.

2007-07-09T12:56:00.000-05:00

chasing tails of rabbits
bounding unluckily through those trappings
of fox holes
and lions dens
and bear traps
and still chasing those tails still bounding
thoughtless and eyes glazed like donuts
never stopping to consider
maybe the rabbit just wants to be chased
but not to be captured.
maybe i want nothing more than to chase
but never catch.
could just be that im afraid of catching that rabbit
and would have no idea
what to do with the prize
if i was so lucky to snare the hare.
so ill just continue to chase him
scurry down that hole after him
til i realize
the hole dug is too large for me to get out.
trapped
all because i wouldnt stop

2007-07-06T16:02:00.001-05:00

my grades for the copa america soccer tournament. the oldest tournament in the world in which we participated for the first time in 14 yrs (?).

f.

next time field a squad. finishing dead last doesnt do us any good. experience for these kids is one thing, but fielding a team of shit left me never wanting to visually experience another game like those three we played ever again.