The important dates are never really important to me
like the day I graduated was annoying and my 30th
birthday will never be as epic as my 28th a bonfire
illegally set on Long Beach Island with some friends
alone and cold under those October stars with a bottle
of rum. Holidays are just days that my job recognizes
as days off. The real holidays that I work for that have
the most meaning to me don't mean much to anyone else.
Like flag day every summer in my friends garage
or the 8 hour drive to see a groundhog predict
the weather, and October 10th something I think
we made up celebrating the existence of New Jersey
Diners and every cup of coffee we've had there.
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
How to Open a Hot Dog Stand
You may open up a hot dog business
and your passion may be hot dogs
and you may love the hot dogs
that you make and perhaps you
like hot dogs with whipped cream
or maple syrup and thats fine
you can have those hot dogs
readily available when someone
wants to try something new
but have your sauerkraut
and baked beans and ketchup
and mustard and let customers
relish in the type of hot dogs
they know and love. Then
when they are tired of their
usual hot dogs you give them
a hot dog or two for free
with peanut butter and let
them discover your creation
on their own. They'll love
that its something new
after all the comforts
of the old and your hot dog
stand will profit and one day
you may own a truck shaped
like a hot dog. That's how
you start a hot dog business.
Fabricated by Publisher at 11:39:00 AM 2 reflections
The hardest thing about E-books
is remembering to read the book.
It's not lying on my floor waiting
to be browsed through but in bits
in this flat machine. Words wait
to be downloaded immediately,
much slower than a quick glance
to the side of my bed. By the time
I turn it on it's over and I don't want
to read anything. Perhaps I will print
out the covers of books and throw them
on the floor to remind me of their existence.
Ill stare at the covers as the screen
tries to load so I can read that novel
I've been meaning to read or essay
on reading or writing to remind myself
that I like things simple.
Fabricated by Publisher at 11:39:00 AM 0 reflections
How Disneyland Works
This is how I imagine Disneyland works.
When some unfortunate child or adult
to big or to small gets their head
loped off on a roller coaster,
falls through the loose seat belts,
or crushed between cars.
The blood has to be cleaned
right away or else it stains
and no one wants to get
on a ride with blood stains
on the seats.
Vomit is so much easier
to clean and probably
takes less time with
a quick hose down.
I imagine all the costumed workers
get together in their costumes
with buckets and sponges
clean off the plastic seats
and distract the people waiting
in line with a short cartoon
of the real characters
they are pretending to be.
Fabricated by Publisher at 11:36:00 AM 0 reflections
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Fabricated by oxenfree at 4:18:00 PM 0 reflections
...and then there was oxenfree
Saturday, November 13, 2010
A Night for You
meet me by the card house
my room is two oh four
I'll take you on your birthday
and toss you out the door
I'll delegate your future
I'll make you hit the brim
toss it all on black jack
but the payout odds are slim
remember sixteen living days
remember your first shots
blow the candles out on the balcony
turn the light off on your plots
keep the screaming in your head
you have grown to hide these things
celebrate a year of dark
and wish for a futures' lesser sting
Fabricated by Grayson Bartlett at 10:08:00 PM 1 reflections
...and then there was Grayson Bartlett
Where She Cuts You
I have smelled the gasoline
you're planning on spraying out
I can see the vengeance in your face
the plug-in chainsaw in the closet
was not put there by accident
take a breath
take a breath
the white in your knuckles
is a tell all picture
the chemicals you're mixing
will never clean a sink
you can be a better man
take a breath
take a breath
your "all black" costume can be set aside
your favorite blade can rest
drop the drink and loosen the knots
let her see where she cuts you
but give her the time to regret it
take a breath
take a breath
Fabricated by Grayson Bartlett at 9:49:00 PM 0 reflections
...and then there was Grayson Bartlett
Thursday, November 11, 2010
I love right angles
but still, I'll take
a wrong angle
any day
Fabricated by Mac at 10:25:00 PM 0 reflections
Central American Feathers
Fabricated by oxenfree at 10:20:00 PM 0 reflections
...and then there was oxenfree
Sunday, November 07, 2010
Steamship Gambler
press me to your hollow chest
welcome me into your nest
offer me a lip or breast
and let me find a vein
carve some dice from clumps of clay
roll them 'cross the pine decay
make the bet and drop the pay
don't forget your cane
the steamship has the men with will
with stomachs that your pills can fill
to shatter memories of the bill
you've put on your account
the fishnet trap between your legs
can warm them while they empty kegs
while every other begger begs
you ask for an amount
the sunlight wrestles down the waves
and takes the dark the moonlight saves
and puts us all in dockyard graves
while whistling to the sea
toss your money in the pot
win roaches, razors, slugs and shots
put your knuckles in a knot
and pray for what will be
Fabricated by Grayson Bartlett at 12:39:00 AM 1 reflections
...and then there was Grayson Bartlett
Re-Living
we walked this
frozen soil when
the sun would
burn it red
I thought you'd be
married now and maybe
I'd be dead
you're still free
and I'm still me
unbroken in this bed
breathing hard and
heaving from
the hungers that
we've fed
Fabricated by Grayson Bartlett at 12:35:00 AM 1 reflections
...and then there was Grayson Bartlett
Friday, November 05, 2010
A Kid I Met at The Mug Once
Tommy came to the bar,
started ordering beers,
talkin’ about
how much money he “made”
begging at the boardwalk
in Atlantic City that day
He said it was real easy
“just tell ‘em
you got lost and
you need to get bus fare or
that your parents
kicked you out of the house
and you’re so hungry.
They’re all rich,
richer than me, at least.
Rich people love giving
their money away
if they think it’s charity.”
Soon,
he wanted to move on
to something stronger
“Give me the strongest
drink you got in the house”
he said.
I poured him a double
of Dewars, neat.
He coughed after one big gulp,
expecting something more
like Vodka, I imagine.
“Damn,” he said,
and I sat back and smiled,
knowing he was
now a Scotch man
and wondering
when the begging
would get boring
and he’d move on
to something stronger.
Fabricated by joe at 4:32:00 PM 0 reflections
...and then there was joe
God's The Bartender
We’re all stumbling home
drunk in the dark
and God’s the bartender
kicking us out at 2 am.
Sometimes he lets us stay
until 3, but
that’s only
on weekends in the summer.
So we’re stumbling, drunk,
blind:
partly from the booze,
one eye only half-open,
the other one
completely fucking useless
and we’re pounding our
fists against cell phones
trying to call the girl
that always comes over
and heals our wounds
when we’re this drunk;
when we’re in this much pain.
and in the morning,
through the hangover,
she resembles an angel,
one of God’s
living, breathing, creatures...
just remember,
She works for that bastard.
Fabricated by joe at 4:30:00 PM 0 reflections
...and then there was joe
Smile
When we were young
we climbed onto swings
and tightly wound the chain
until the world started
spinning, and we lay immobile
at the center of creation
leaning back with arms spread
hoping to catch
and be caught
we had pocket cameras
and worried about the shots
dragging friends and drugs and
cars and loves into and out of
frame.
I would love to be in that
picture on the grass
in the April sun. I would
cut the river out and put
it in a scrap book. I
would have dug
into the snow
for pixels with sharp
edges
and maybe the smell
of chemicals from old fashioned
film, because light
doesn't hit a diode
quite the way it does
a piece of dried out
Kodachrome, does it?
Maybe the posing
was more important
than the picture
you are who you are when you are who you are for who you are
you who are are who are
I am as I am to you
following movement creates
the illusion of moment
creates the illusion of
existence
creates
a whole world
and understanding this
you smile brighter
Fabricated by Mac at 12:40:00 AM 2 reflections
...and then there was Mac
Tuesday, November 02, 2010
Jacket Weather
This jacket has seen
sunrises;
exploding stars
and eclipses
of the moon
This jacket has seen
the coldest mornings;
women huddled in cars
and whiskey.
This jacket has seen
pre-dawn West Virginia;
plains and valleys
of Ontario;
Every mile
of the Northwest Corridor;
I-95 in at least
13 different states.
It’s seen love
help it on,
tear it off,
throw it on the floor and
walk all over it.
This jacket has seen
great poets spill beer and
great drinkers spill poetry
in late night bars
somewhere in South Florida.
This jacket has seen wounds,
the best and the worst of them;
heartbreaks,
the best and the worst of them;
This jacket has seen life;
the best and the worst of it.
Fabricated by joe at 12:37:00 PM 1 reflections
...and then there was joe
Where's The Jazz?
They had names
for the sounds they would make
and a love for
all things alive, like
music, damp city streets
and the ocean.
They would lay their hands
on old piano keys
and make them sing again.
Breath new life
into old brass
and make it squeal
again
They had
SaltPeanuts. Salt
Pea-nuts.
They had soul.
They had music.
They had Bop
and what do we have?
Where is Charlie Parker?
Where is Dizzy?
Where is jazz?
Fabricated by joe at 12:32:00 PM 2 reflections
...and then there was joe
Monday, November 01, 2010
Plastic Wolves
He asked if he had to behave
She said yes & he didn’t.
Broken glass alongside her bed,
his heavy hands and breathing rushed.
Every drop of sweat that crashed onto her body was...
Somebody had to have known by look on her face.
Driving his car to find solace in familiarity
Just imagine you are driving home
The quicker the better
Just imagine you're back home with good friends
with your best interest at heart
Glance back in the rearview
and see his sickening smile.
It was stretching with pleasure.
If she took it, she would make it
No negotiations.
“If you don’t do this
I’m jerking the wheel.
We will crash
and if I live, I’ll walk away
I’ll tell the detective
who will tell the coroner
who will tell your loved ones
You stole my car.”
If it were her way
She would have run miles ago
Marks left at the scene of the crime
Only she could see them
Evidence of a price paid
She was then just a product of the road
One day he’ll have a daughter
He’ll understand
She’s wiped her slate clean
& from now on
she got out and walked
it was still uncomfortable
perhaps even worse
but she’d rather have her chances
& be with the real wolves in the desert.
Fabricated by oxenfree at 2:49:00 PM 0 reflections
...and then there was oxenfree