Monthly Archives: November 2013

tell the paper to go to hell

he screams

keep it simple baby
don’t let the words
get in the way
of
a good story

don’t let the plot line thicken
there
shouldn’t be a
plot in the first place
just
a good story

don’t
let the facts get in the way
of
a
good story
just tell it like it is
it’s the theme and the
morals
that count
not the lesson

don’t let the words get in the way

and don’t forget to say
i’m finished,

never use those other
2
words,

because baby,
it’s never the end
only the beginning or the middle.

now,
how you gonna end this one
baby?

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white ice

my
bourbon glass
has
dimples in the
bottom
when the ice floods
around in the
bourbon
the dimples light up like
the
lights of vegas
but the
ice
keeps you guessing
the glass
itself
is from the
princess cruise ship
a trip
i
never took
the ice reminds me why
-he’s chained
still to the
radiator
watching the
inverted dimples
tip
upwards
as the mouth
of the
glass touches
my lips.
i crunch the
ice burgs.

-him?
i’m gonna crunch
him too.


say it with bourbon

in my office
is
bulleit bourbon.
in my office
is one scared
fella.
bound and gagged
and after a
night cuffed
to the radiator
naked,
he is ready to talk

Why?

cuz the radiator don’t work

and beside my bottle
of bulleit bourbon…..
is
a
gun.


black and white reflection

there’s my reflection
on the
glass portion
of the
office door

angled shadow
against the
black
lettering
a solid silhouette
w/o eyes

on the other side
the dust and
the sun erase my
solid figure-less-ness
it would
scare my secretary
looking up from her magazine
to see this
apparition
forming through the door,
past the backward
lettering –
if i had a secretary

But I Don’t

it’s my lonely office
w/o a phone
in the
reception area
and

i

Like It That Way


black and white rain scene with only one solution

there she is!
running down the street
holding onto her
hat
high heels on pavement
racing to get to the cross walk
then head straight
or
turn tightly
around a building
sucking up too much sidewalk

i’m in the car
using the rearview
i see him!
he’s chasing her and
the crowd doesn’t care
who cares about
the damsel in distress anymore?

i swerve the car out into the traffic
yeah, honk your horns and shove
the break up your ass

i swerve out over two lanes,
catch the sidewalk with the
driver side tire

she’s across the cross walk
looking over her shoulder
and halting
as i get out – her
hand is still on her hat

he stops at the car
as my door is opening up.
now the crowd is paying attention!
and i belt the son of a bitch in the mouth
wishing i had just run him over

he slumps and i open the back door to
my car
it should be the trunk
but this is noon hour on a busy day

he’s got some talkin’ to do.

the girl,
she sees me and i let her see me,
sees him slumped over towards
the passenger side.
cigarette still in my mouth,
she knows i’ll get him to talk
knows
i’ll be back to talk to her
and
i think she shows a sign of
looking forward to it

she’s disappearing into the crowd

i’m pull conservatively
back
into traffic.


there’s still 3 dimensional class to it all

she leaves you angry in the moment
a mike hammer moment
where justice
is slammed up against the wall.
there is nothing
kewl said
no quiet bogart stance

no

it’s chinaware breaking and
jaws breaking
it’s running out into the hall,
the apt neighbours opening
their doors in a flush

me

running out into the night
ready

ready to track it all down
this  mystery she creates.
solve it
with a bravado and style
of a western pioneer
living in a concrete valley

bogart doesn’t live in this body
no tipped down hat
or taste of a cigarette to
deflect the moment
before closing the door gently
and giving a wink

it’s pure rage
one dimensional thinking

and the job is still
gonna
get
done.


black and white rain scene

she
sits up as if to leave,
those eyes

strong
enduring

but the couch is about to become empty
the scotch is going to be
bitter
and the door is going close behind
that beautiful
skirt

it
leaves
me

weak
lost

wondering what i said
or did
in the moment
or in
the past

the radio is going to be lonely tonight
my bed will be empty
i will stretch out on the couch
simply to smell her perfume
left behind in this room

and i’ll stare out that window

knowing on the street
she is waving down a taxi
maybe looking up once more at my window

but

not likely


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