Sunday, January 27, 2008

Saturday, January 26, 2008

damn...



How much are kidneys going for these days?

Sunday, January 20, 2008

near that place of perfection

The fact that I was dreaming about Satan doesn't bother me. The fact that I was dreaming about witches doesn't bother me. The fact that, in this dream, I had the power to blow fire doesn't bother me. The fact that I used said fire to save a person's parents by burning a hole in the earth to travel to hell where I lured Satan and his army of evil souls with the cries of a baby and trapped Satan in a net doesn't bother me. But how in the hell did the red-coat-wearing British Army get into my dream? And why did they arrest Satan "in the name of the Queen?" By far, the weirdest dream I have ever experienced.

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home sweet...

Friday, January 11, 2008

drawn and quartered

For some reason, I can't stop thinking about the fact that you told me I am nothing like I appear in my poetry. What does that even mean? Hehe.

the perfect time to break

I don't know if it's just me, but 9/11 no longer feels like "9/11." This past year it felt like the eleventh day of September again, like it used to be before 2001. It felt like a Pearl-Harbor-forgotten December 7th, like a D-Day-discarded June 6th. It's as though everything that has happened because of 9/11 has blanketed the day itself and what it meant at one point in time. There's the war, the new security procedures at airports, the controversy over border control, the hunt for Bin Laden and his band of miscreants, the war on terrorism and terrorism in general (or terrism as good ol' G Dubya B would say), and the debates over all of the things just mentioned. Where did 9/11 go?

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"We cower as you point your fingers telling us to support our troops. You and the smarmy pundits in your pocket - those who bathe in the moisture of your soiled and blood-soaked underwear - can take that noise and shove it." ~Sean Penn

Ha! I can't believe I forgot about this. Mr. Penn, you are the knight in shining metaphorical armor wielding the long hard sword of cleverness, while we feeble foes of disjointed tenor and vehicle cannot stand our ground, can do nothing but beg for a drop of sweat from your brain-bulging brow in hopes that it might contain even the slightest microscopic semblance of your intellectual, poetic superiority. God bless you, sir. God bless you indeed.

we're always crossing black rivers...

Stroke your reader’s cheek / while you box his ears.

~Horace

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I can't say how sick I am of hearing about steroids in baseball; how great the mighty Patriots are; everything that O.J. Simpson can't stop messing up; who's in rehab now; who's out of rehab now; so-called "Islamic Extremists" (Give me a break: The fact that they're Islamic has little to do with anything. Call them crazies. We all got 'em--every race, every nationality, every religion. Crazies. Period.); the Spears family; Ron "I'm Bringin' Jesus Back" Paul; Barack Obama and Hillary Clinton hating sexist bigots; who's supporting whom in the races; Dr. Phil; and Dr. Phil's hair (or lack thereof). Enough already. Can we move on already?

Thursday, January 10, 2008

the ocean underneath

Yesterday was odd. Kind of disturbing.

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It's about that time of the year where I need to (or have to) start thinking about the future. Unfortunately, or fortunately I suppose, this time around I am thinking less of where I want to be and more of where I don't want to be. I know where I don't want to be. I know what I don't want to be doing. I know I've never been so disappointed about a choice I've made in my life.

...

I'm am so over this. Screw this stupid crap. I've never felt so unappreciated.

Tuesday, January 1, 2008

moving on

So this is the new year.
And i don't feel any different.
The clanking of crystal.
Explosions off in the distance.

So this is the new year.
And I have no resolutions
for self-assigned penance,
for problems with easy solutions.

So everybody put your best suit or dress on.
Let's make believe that we are wealthy for just this once.
Lighting firecrackers off on the front lawn,
as thirty dialogues bleed into one.

I wish the world was flat like the old days,
then i could travel just by folding a map.
No more airplanes, or speedtrains, or freeways.
There'd be no distance that can hold us back.

There'd be no distance that could hold us back.

~DCfC