Pimp to the mouth-breathers

Always a Bridesmaid Dress

Oh godforsaken bridesmaid dress
why won’t you go away?
or be so much less money
that I don’t have to pay.

Or be a thing I own already
Some frock from long ago
that withstands the weathered torture
from so much Midwestern snow.

Let me wear a pants suit
or a stunning pair of jeans
Hold back your judging death stare
on one that just hath not the means.

Screw it, we’d have said in older days,
and vintage dresses we’d have worn
But wedding white doth dull her sense
It’s for the friend before the bride I mourn.

Beer Foam Friends

I’m drinking a beer so I’ll have suds for friends. I tip the glass and there’s a foamy panda bear or maybe a group of kids lined up in front of an outhouse. I take a swig and swirl the glass around again. Now it’s a little face peering up at me. Now the face melts a little and looks like a skull. Too scary for my blood. I take another drink. Now it looks like the colosseum. I’m a Roman, building the goddamned Parthenon out of hops.

But a lonely Roman.

I tilt the glass back again and now it looks like a human. One oval for a head and another body oval. And all the other suds slowly drip back into the glass, but not the few parts forming this beer Frankenstein I’ve created. It stays and keeps me company. Two ovals made up of a thousand tiny bubbles. An imperfect mini-me intoxicated on newfound life.

Frenchie

Cain’t we all communicate in any other way?
'Stead of, “Please, i'scus me, do you parlay voos Fransay?
I ain’t no good at speakin’ French
I’m worse at speaking true.
But when my tongue is in your mouth
I sure am talking you.

Then they don’t do it no more, so.

I’m waiting to interview a woman who’s moving away from a huge antiques store she’s owned for over 30 years. While we’re waiting, I ask her assistant John - a 61-year-old black man originally from Memphis - to show me his favorite parts of the 15,000 square-foot maze.

He takes me to a section full of brass and copper pieces.

John: I don’t know what it is about brass. I guess it’s just the way that it, I don’t know, I just like it.

Me: What do you like about it?

John: I like the…like this. (points to the feathers on a brass eagle) The detail that the person took to do that. I don’t know how they do that, but I would like to see it being done. See, in wood, you can just imagine somebody got something and carve it. But with this, I wonder how they do that.

John: I like old stuff, antiques. I walk around everyday and I just see stuff…I see it and then it just amazes me how it looks, the way people took they time to do that. And then they don’t do it no more, so. 

John: And trains, I like trains. ‘Cause when I was little we used to always…See, I’m from Memphis, Tennessee so like, when school be out, my mother and them used to put us on the train and we’d ride the train, me and my brother, to Chicago to visit with my auntie and them and stay up there for the summer and ride the train back. And all the time, the trains used to meet on up with them trains with the big tires and smoke coming out and I used to like that. And then, when I got here (the antiques shop) now she got the trains.

Me: Would you mind if I got a photo of you? You’ve got that great hat. Did you get that hat from here?

John: You know actually, it was a guy that worked at here. He had went and bought this hat and when he got it, the fur - when he let it down - it irritated his face and he didn’t want it. So he gave it to me.

Bathroom Martyr

I’m staring at the pink-lined women’s bathroom walls at Martyrs last night. I’m in the largest stall at the end because it’s my favorite. I feel kind of like a martyr myself. Ever since getting back from this L.A. trip, things have felt off. The cold is grating and my sanity grip seems to be slipping a bit. 

It’s then that I start reading the bathroom graffiti, all of which reads like a cross between a fortune cookie and some chicked out version of the Hindu god Ganesh. 

He who Hesitates is lost.

If we keep doing what we’ve been doing, all we gonna get is what we already got.

Life is a tragedy for those who feel and a comedy for those who think.

All you want and all you see is all your life will ever be.

If you want something you’ve never had, you need to do things you’ve never done. 

Life is looking up.

I’m not exactly sure how life is a comedy for those who think, but I get the bathroom’s point. Fear is the great paralyzer, action the great de-number.

He - or she - who hesitates is lost. So sayeth the pink walled Ganesh. 

Mount Shasta, a mountain in Oregon seen from the car.
Being near a mountain pulls on you. The vastness and stillness of the thing is infectious. It’s like the opposite of looking at a cellphone or being in a Wal-mart, both of which unnerve the heck out of me.
Traveling, being near that mountain have forced me to step back into my own vast stillness. A lonely place where there’s enough calm to gather my thoughts and feel out how best to move time forward.
"What are men to rocks and mountains?" -Jane Austen 
"Thousands of tired, nerve-shaken, over-civilized people are beginning to find out going to the mountains is going home; that wilderness is a necessity…" -John Muir

Mount Shasta, a mountain in Oregon seen from the car.

Being near a mountain pulls on you. The vastness and stillness of the thing is infectious. It’s like the opposite of looking at a cellphone or being in a Wal-mart, both of which unnerve the heck out of me.

Traveling, being near that mountain have forced me to step back into my own vast stillness. A lonely place where there’s enough calm to gather my thoughts and feel out how best to move time forward.

"What are men to rocks and mountains?" -Jane Austen 

"Thousands of tired, nerve-shaken, over-civilized people are beginning to find out going to the mountains is going home; that wilderness is a necessity…" -John Muir

A Thing With Wings

What is a bird but a thing with wings
that sings inside a cage?
What am I but some actor girl
who talks upon a stage?
Our hearts both flutter for better things
We long to turn life’s page.

Floss and Blood

I floss my teeth
and blood comes out
I choose to do it this way
They tell me, you get cavities
I don’t care what they say
If there’s no blood when I floss
Then something must be wrong
My mouth, she is a singer
The sink receives the song

Found this on the side of the road near Big Sur. Fur and teeth and not much else. Still ferocious even in death.

Found this on the side of the road near Big Sur. Fur and teeth and not much else. Still ferocious even in death.