Morning eggs mix with blood, an arousing flavor of life and death. The eggs are from the fridge, the blood comes from a canker sore on the inner part of my cheek that i bit into. A day that begins with a finite ethos.
The leaves remain green. There is a respite these days, from what exactly, I'm not certain. But there is a sense of it, an odd sense of solace. It is strange, but it isn't weird.
Perhaps it is merely something I dreamed last night. We are victims of our dreams. I don't recollect my dreams specifically--which makes it more unnerving, this sense of solace. Perhaps it will come to me over me the course of the day. It is early yet.
Just returned from my piss. My face in the mirror looked acrid and inflamed. I could attribute this to unconscious trauma that i have yet to actualize and acknowledge, but it is likely merely the result of the cheap laundry detergent i washed my pillow case in yesterday.
Monday, February 6, 2012
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Check Out
They stand in line at the check out; she in front, him behind her. She looked at him slightly, he looked to her hand to see if she was married. She wore gloves. It is February, one week and one day before Valentine's Day. She buys three patterned balls, decorative balls that you arrange in a bowl on a table, and a 24 pack of double roll toilet paper. He has sweat pants, a large bottle of Sunlight laundry detergent, a bottle of Pepsi and a notebook. He'd only come in to buy the notebook. The pants and the laundry detergent were on sales, a good deal.
The line is long. It is the express line. A computer generated voice rhythmically intones, " Please go to check out 1, Please go to check out 3". They shuffle like cattle to the slaughterhouse. His eyes scan the nape of her neck, he is drawn to the fine blond hair on it. It reminded him of a lover from his past, he couldn't remember which one, not that there were that many to remember.
She looked over the displayed items along the line, thought that sh'd forgotten to get something, couldn't recall what it was, and picked up some gum, then decided against it and returned it to the shelf. She wondered to herself why she'd forgotten to take her gloves off. Her hands felt damp within them.
The line is long. It is the express line. A computer generated voice rhythmically intones, " Please go to check out 1, Please go to check out 3". They shuffle like cattle to the slaughterhouse. His eyes scan the nape of her neck, he is drawn to the fine blond hair on it. It reminded him of a lover from his past, he couldn't remember which one, not that there were that many to remember.
She looked over the displayed items along the line, thought that sh'd forgotten to get something, couldn't recall what it was, and picked up some gum, then decided against it and returned it to the shelf. She wondered to herself why she'd forgotten to take her gloves off. Her hands felt damp within them.
Monday, January 3, 2011
Postcards
She sends me postcards of Northern Lights. She always sends me postcards of Northern lights. I tack them to the wall next to the refrigerator in no particular order.
Spent the afternoon in the Regal Hotel. The air stinks of old beer and old men. Italy and Germany play soccer on the TV. no one pays attention. Domestic beer costs $3.75, Cognac costs $4.35. This information is supplied by a tarnished sign tacked on the wall over the pool table. No one, to any one's recollection, has ever ordered a Cognac in the Regal Hotel.
Spent the afternoon in the Regal Hotel. The air stinks of old beer and old men. Italy and Germany play soccer on the TV. no one pays attention. Domestic beer costs $3.75, Cognac costs $4.35. This information is supplied by a tarnished sign tacked on the wall over the pool table. No one, to any one's recollection, has ever ordered a Cognac in the Regal Hotel.
Thursday, December 23, 2010
39 Snappy Comebacks After Being Rejected By A Female in a Bar
1. Good...More money for me!
2. Thanks, I needed a break from all the constant sexual activity
3. That's okay, i was just getting you away from your hot friend so my buddy could make some time with her, and seeing that they just walked out together, I made my twenty bucks.
4. Okay, but can I still call you later?
5. Hmm..does that thing on your face always leak pus like that?
6. Hey, that's funny....no, no,...really.
7. Please, please, please, please, please
8. Okay, but is it okay with you if I tell my friends you're a dyke? Could you grab that girl's ass so they'll believe me?
9. Oh come on, your mouth says no, but your eyes, ...well, they say no too, but you left felbow, your left elbow is clearly saying yes.
10. I'm rubber and your glue......
11. WHAT?
12. Say hello to my little friend.
13. I heard about women like you. Listen, would you mind if i take a picture of you? The folks back home will never believe I actually met one.
14. Okay, that didn't work. How about Rock, paper scissors?
15. It's because of my weight isn't it? It's just that these pants make my butt look big.
17. Guess I'll just ahve to go solo to Bono's Christmas soiree.
18. Ouch. That's just mean.
19. Well, there's more fish in the sea..i was just trying to have a go at it with a human for a change.
20 Who's the loser now? Who's the loser now?
21. Are you sure? It's Drew Carey bobblehead night at my apartment.
22. That's strange, how did you know it would fit up there?
23. My therapist tells me this is good for my emotional growth.
24. I know you arem but what am i?
25. So, i guess you making wings and ribs for me and the boys for the game this Saturday is out of the question?
26. Oh, oh, I get it, but if I don't see it as lowering my standards, why should you feel you're not worthy?
27. Alright, but you're gonna have to give this fifty bucks back to your brother, i don't take money for a job i didn't finish.
28. It's because of my breath isn't it? I can stop breathing you know.
29. But I walked all the way over here!
30. No, no, you heard me wrong. I didn't say" how about we go out", I said, " How is yoru gout?"
31. I'll drink to that.
32 There's no place like home, there's no place like home.
33. Sure, it's all about you...what about my feelings?
34. Okay, but could you do just one thing for me....pull my finger.
35. I get the sense you're dealing with some issues....do you need a hug.
36. You're kidding right?
37. I'll drink to that.
38. Okay, If i go out and get a job, take a bath, change my underwear, lose 50 pounds and get this boil lanced, then can we go out?
39. Whoa, it's a good thing I'm not sensitive.
2. Thanks, I needed a break from all the constant sexual activity
3. That's okay, i was just getting you away from your hot friend so my buddy could make some time with her, and seeing that they just walked out together, I made my twenty bucks.
4. Okay, but can I still call you later?
5. Hmm..does that thing on your face always leak pus like that?
6. Hey, that's funny....no, no,...really.
7. Please, please, please, please, please
8. Okay, but is it okay with you if I tell my friends you're a dyke? Could you grab that girl's ass so they'll believe me?
9. Oh come on, your mouth says no, but your eyes, ...well, they say no too, but you left felbow, your left elbow is clearly saying yes.
10. I'm rubber and your glue......
11. WHAT?
12. Say hello to my little friend.
13. I heard about women like you. Listen, would you mind if i take a picture of you? The folks back home will never believe I actually met one.
14. Okay, that didn't work. How about Rock, paper scissors?
15. It's because of my weight isn't it? It's just that these pants make my butt look big.
17. Guess I'll just ahve to go solo to Bono's Christmas soiree.
18. Ouch. That's just mean.
19. Well, there's more fish in the sea..i was just trying to have a go at it with a human for a change.
20 Who's the loser now? Who's the loser now?
21. Are you sure? It's Drew Carey bobblehead night at my apartment.
22. That's strange, how did you know it would fit up there?
23. My therapist tells me this is good for my emotional growth.
24. I know you arem but what am i?
25. So, i guess you making wings and ribs for me and the boys for the game this Saturday is out of the question?
26. Oh, oh, I get it, but if I don't see it as lowering my standards, why should you feel you're not worthy?
27. Alright, but you're gonna have to give this fifty bucks back to your brother, i don't take money for a job i didn't finish.
28. It's because of my breath isn't it? I can stop breathing you know.
29. But I walked all the way over here!
30. No, no, you heard me wrong. I didn't say" how about we go out", I said, " How is yoru gout?"
31. I'll drink to that.
32 There's no place like home, there's no place like home.
33. Sure, it's all about you...what about my feelings?
34. Okay, but could you do just one thing for me....pull my finger.
35. I get the sense you're dealing with some issues....do you need a hug.
36. You're kidding right?
37. I'll drink to that.
38. Okay, If i go out and get a job, take a bath, change my underwear, lose 50 pounds and get this boil lanced, then can we go out?
39. Whoa, it's a good thing I'm not sensitive.
Friday, July 2, 2010
Beechwood Rooftops
Stark naked in an incoherent sunrise. 26 degrees in the Hamilton 6am. Pollution index 35 on its way to 54. A poor air quality day. Seniors and those with respiratory ailments are advised to stay indoors. Humidex to hit 44. Heat alert has been issued.
Awake since 3:53, I smoke cigarettes and skim through a two day old newspaper. Coffee drips. Sports scores and obituaries and photos of tanned girls in orange swimsuits limp through my insomniac brain in a metronomic malaise. The factory fires burn, protrude a hopeful glow in the sky above the Beechwood Avenue rooftops.
Awake since 3:53, I smoke cigarettes and skim through a two day old newspaper. Coffee drips. Sports scores and obituaries and photos of tanned girls in orange swimsuits limp through my insomniac brain in a metronomic malaise. The factory fires burn, protrude a hopeful glow in the sky above the Beechwood Avenue rooftops.
Thursday, July 1, 2010
Beechwood Avenue, August 20
the bed of memory remains unmade,
the sheets are stained
and reek of sweat
It's Tuesday on Beechwood Avenue.
It's August 20th. It's hot. The neighbor waters his brown grass by hand with a hose in true Italian fashion. Across the street, the mother is out, the father and his buddy watch the kids with growls and yells. The smallest catches a finger in the van door and catches hell from the father and gets an ice pack, eventually, once the sobbing subsides. Next door to them, a young single mother calls for one of her cats, coaxing it home by rattling a tin of cat treats. I sit on the front porch, smoking, looking at her large, firm breasts, which remind me of Jenifer's, love number four or five.
the sheets are stained
and reek of sweat
It's Tuesday on Beechwood Avenue.
It's August 20th. It's hot. The neighbor waters his brown grass by hand with a hose in true Italian fashion. Across the street, the mother is out, the father and his buddy watch the kids with growls and yells. The smallest catches a finger in the van door and catches hell from the father and gets an ice pack, eventually, once the sobbing subsides. Next door to them, a young single mother calls for one of her cats, coaxing it home by rattling a tin of cat treats. I sit on the front porch, smoking, looking at her large, firm breasts, which remind me of Jenifer's, love number four or five.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
wooden box
He started listening to Dexter Gordon after he'd seen him a movie during a lonely time in his life. He didn't remember the name of the movie, but he was affected by Gordon's utter elegant cool. Regal cool, with his deep, pained voice of life. He wished he'd been black and raw cool like Dexter. He wished he could caress the emotions out like him. He bought a harmonica because he could not afford a saxophone and would play it in the bathroom when no one was home. It worked, for a time.
Now in his fifties, he was used to being alone. He no longer felt lonely. He'd surrendered those emotions or they'd merely just drifted away. He existed, that was enough at this point. He played the harmonica twice a year on significant dates, then returned the instrument to a wooden box he'd inherited from his father. His father had kept tie pins, cuff links and old coins in the box. He had kept them for no particular reason, though he had no reason to ever wear them, not did he have a shirt with cuffs even if he did.
Now in his fifties, he was used to being alone. He no longer felt lonely. He'd surrendered those emotions or they'd merely just drifted away. He existed, that was enough at this point. He played the harmonica twice a year on significant dates, then returned the instrument to a wooden box he'd inherited from his father. His father had kept tie pins, cuff links and old coins in the box. He had kept them for no particular reason, though he had no reason to ever wear them, not did he have a shirt with cuffs even if he did.
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