Nancy Is Patient, To A Point...

But if you talk all through her set and distract everybody and fail to applaud, well...You'd better be ready to dodge those optical death-ray laser eyeballs.

(click photo to enlarge)

I'm just sayin'

Past Light

It's a good time of day when the sun is still a little stronger than the streetlights and it loiters behind the rooftops like we did in high school and for a moment I can look from then to now and see the geometry of skylines at dusk is still good enough reason to draw another breath.

Watching death watch my cat

(above photo from 2004)


I'm watching him die.

And I've been watching him every day for a while now. Losing more weight. Eating less food. Then eating normally. Then vomiting abnormally. And crying for more food. Or water - because both dishes are always empty at 4:30 A.M. And I watch him and think of other times

...when I was lying on the couch and he wanted to jump on my chest to teach those broken ribs and fractured collarbone a lesson. DON'T MESS WITH MY FRIEND...

...when he chattered at sparrows on the window ledge and studied leopards on TV, transfixed....

...when he greeted me at the door, then led me to the same spot in the living room everytime to flop down and demand a belly-rub...

...when he performed on cue for answering machines and flaunted his Siamese language skills...

But I have these memories and more. He is here for now and hopefully tomorrow.

And we try not to think about the day after tomorrow.

Waving Goodbye To Integrity

Tipped and Poised

she tips that bottle up
right on over summer
and I see tigers jumping everywhere

her eyes are closed
and the jungle runs down her throat

liquid fire kissing
her perfect head
still and poised on
shoulders of the sub-continent

she makes me want to eat glass

there's a set of keys
next to her cellphone
and a bic pen
next to her purse

we could go to her car
blast of tongue and
arms around the world
lost and wheeling forwards
off the back seat

in a spotlight of trumpets
where nerves jump and
claws reach under the bars

i am the circus.

Goodbye Romeoville

The map was guiding me along just fine and I came to a toll booth. It was rush-hour and like the map promised, I needed to pay 65 cents to the nice state employee to keep going.

As I left the toll booth, my exit ramp appeared immediately on the right. There had been no warning from my map directions about this. No Caution - No Alert. And no chance to cross three lanes of rush hour traffic and take the exit either. So I stayed in my lane and took the next available off-ramp.

I drove up to a 7-11 and walked inside to ask how to get back on the highway. The 30-ish woman who answered had glassy eyes and shook slightly as she talked.

"See this road right out front ? Go left and stay in the left lane. That's all."

A 50-ish man inquired "Well, WHERE are you going exactly?"

"Romeoville."

He said nothing and folded his arms.

I turned away and opened the door.

"OK - thanks"

They both stared. I pulled a 9mm from my pocket and put one in each of her glassy eyes and four or five into his trucker gut.

I got right back onto the highway, just like she promised. And the map told me to make another exit in 10 miles. The traffic pulsed around me and the radio fed me a baseball game being played on the West Coast. There are too many highways out and around L.A. and even more people to drive through and exits to make.

I found my next exit and this was when the map directions got clever. There was no sign of my next turn. No sign at any intersection. For a few miles in each direction.

Names of streets can change but maps don't care to keep up sometimes. And sometimes there is confusion.

I pulled into a gas station and walked in to confirm the name of the street I needed. The two men inside did not know, but assured me I was heading in a southerly direction. So I thanked them, stepped out, locked every door from the outside and set the place on fire - pumps and all.

The next 2 hours were spent being lost and spinning around. The state highway that I drove up and down was cluttered with every neon-lit chain restaurant imaginable. Suburban hellish American plastic food for the sugar, salt and fat missing in their real lives. Out here along the string of franchised hair-nail salons and payday loan shops, I tossed a hand grenade at Pizza Hut. I burned Tuffy Muffler to the ground. I smashed my car into the front window of Dunkin Donuts and fire-bombed Walgreen's. The smoke and sparks rose into the night, drifting over the ruins of Romeoville and the sleeping dead souls below.

I turned the car towards one last building. Soft light shone through curtained windows onto a modest lawn that bordered the walkways outside. My ears hummed as I shut off the car. A cathedral of stillness. A single breath. A closing of night.

this was my arrival
inside my uncle lay waiting for his destination
and the faces of cousins and family surrounded it all
pointing me in directions that only blood can

GOODBYE

Men on the moon.

Ernie Banks hitting #500.

Skyscrapers collapsing.

These are the only TV images I will carry
into the digital future as my portable B&W television becomes my portable B&W and useless television for the garbage pick-up this Monday morning.