November 2011
7 posts
6 tags
The Sneeze
She was blonde. She was tall. Legs like sunflower stems. I caught her eye briefly, but she just smiled politely and continued to walk past figuring I was another average customer. She had no idea what the day had planned for her in that obscenely crowded Apple Store on the Third Street Promenade, her place of employ.
But I had it all figured out already. The second I saw her I knew how it was...
4 tags
The Birthday of the Ex
I’ve been agitated and tired this whole week. My sleep schedule’s been off, I’ve been acting selfishly, distracted, checked out, thoughtless, easily annoyed, all that external projection stuff that comes with an indefinable feeling in my gut. It’s like a ball of anger is creeping slowly from my mid-section to my furthest extremities and nothing I do physically or vocally releases that stress in a...
2 tags
The Death of Rock was published on Thought Catalog
http://thoughtcatalog.com/2011/the-death-of-rock/
October 2011.
I have released eight albums in eight years. Six hours and twenty-four minutes of music. I feel squeezed dry. The last trickles of music seeping from my pores like blood. I’ve sat in my bedroom with a guitar between my heart and my hands and found melodies and textures that never seemed to be my possession. I simply felt them...
4 tags
Divorce On the First Date was published at Thought...
http://thoughtcatalog.com/2011/divorce-on-the-first-date/
“I don’t believe in divorce,” Lisa declared in between bites of her spinach lasagna.
“Uh, I’m sorry?” I inquired as my mind jarringly shifted from the lovely drought of wine I just swallowed to the thought of a ferociously sensitive and heart-wrenching topic.
“I don’t believe anyone who gets married should ever get a divorce.”
I was...
3 tags
3 tags
I Write At Night
There’s a word for how I prepare for bed. It’s spelled R-O-U-T-I-N-E.
I pour my glass of water, drain my bladder, wash my hands, floss, brush, take a sip from the glass, shut off my cell phone, stretch my back and legs, and climb into bed.
But it doesn’t end there.
I open the top drawer of the nightstand to the left of my bed and unveil my journal and its dedicated pen. I open...
2 tags
Marilyn's Dress
The tablecloths reminded me of Marilyn Monroe when they caught a sudden gust of wind. It kind of turned me on a little, actually. But my wife didn’t share the same rousing “tingle” in her britches when I gently nudged her with this visual. In fact, upon the breath of my first chuckle, she immediately threw bolts of lightning into my chest with her eyes, cracked the asphalt with her...
