August 24th, 2008 at 7:07 pm
(Fiction)
He’s got a stern face and it puts me on edge. I fiddle and shift, foot to foot while I wait, waiting for his eyes to move. I’m awkward here, uncomfortable and it’s been raining. I hate that noise - the drips, the drops - hate what it does inside my mind.
“Now we’re going to have to do something about this,” his voice drips too, drops bad news, “this is not an acceptable pattern of behavior.”
I would be fine. I think. I think I could be alright if things would just clear up. It’s my attitude, my sunny disposition, it’s waterlogged and I’m suddenly not quite myself. You see I don’t typically do this, make these kinds of mistakes. I’m a dependable man, generally speaking, task oriented and productive.
“You cannot expect me to overlook this sort of behavior” he’s an ass, “cannot expect the company to be able to turn its head.”
It was innocent. It was nothing. Just a little slip-up, crossed wires call it and I’m suddenly treading water. Water. It’s still falling all over the fucking place. Bathing roof and ground and the back corners of my skull. It’s noise, that’s all. It’s noise and a sledgehammer, a thousand little points of contact along sun-heated tin. One thousand points and I could use one more. Just one, feather-light and like a raindrop. A single, solitary sound to end sound and this moment.
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August 12th, 2008 at 8:22 pm
(Poetry/Prose)
These are my last days. Lost to time.
To inactivity. To temptation.
Flesh is fading.
Just a start. Aches and pains.
Rising to remind me.
Caesar was mortal, afterall.
For a thousand years he ruled,
Died, ruled.
He knew that the train was going to stop.
That’s reason enough.
Cause to grab. To hold close.
Each important toy.
Nothing is important. Not through the bird’s eye.
Not a thousand years later.
So take. So love.
So long as body draws breath.
So long as the mood keeps you.
So long you might forget.
It is all ending. Someday.
Maybe tomorrow.
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August 12th, 2008 at 6:22 pm
(Poetry/Prose)
Become overcome.
Unwanted, unable,
To handle this,
Latest twist.
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August 6th, 2008 at 9:26 pm
(Poetry/Prose, Unfinished)
Love bleeds, soaks through,
Soaked sheets already soiled,
Love’s dirty little baggage,
Buried, born.
Bourne, always just out of site,
Heartbreaks marked ‘what if’,
legendary love, mythic,
Untrue.
Call this love, it’s pretty enough,
Flowered enough,
It sings, say love
When all else seems less.
Seems faded and pale,
Seams frayed, bursting,
Holding nothing back,
Constructed poorly.
Say love when you feel,
When you feel that you know,
Knowing nothing of feeling say love,
Again, love surely drifts.
Love, the forever kind,
Forever kind to the callous, shortsighted,
Never kind enough,
To avoid the eyes-wide dreamer.
Fall in love, quickly
Leaping with both feet,
Knees bent, leaping,
Headlong, out.
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