My Foot Fell Asleep And It’s Having Those Dreams
my foot fell asleep
and it’s having those dreams again, where
we alphabetized all our typos
and did sex stuff in front of them
until the correct spellings came out
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Tag Archives: Get in the car Helen
Until The Poles Close
8 Nov
Until The Poles Close
You will be where you are, with someone else
Breathing like a landslide
Talking shit about the veranda
Drinking leftover Daylight Savings Time beside the pool
And I’ll be sitting on a futon in my living room
With the Gwyneth Left Me Coldplay album and
24 hour Cable News channels 2-waying it in the background,
My heart rehearsing tornado drills
While the wind laughs its ass off because
The wind is a fascist orange ass-punch and
Everything can easily all go to hell way too fast
Power Thru
18 Sep
‘Power Thru’
Human robots at the 7-11 pimping
Prime Rib Flavored potato chips
In an election year
Whose mouth is full of dead beef
And between chokes
During the moments in which the gag reflex
Temporarily climbs its way
To the front line in the poles
Everything is said
And everything is contradicting
And the truth is kicked
Until unconscious
By a mobile unit
In charge of transporting white supremacist
Courting orange hair
Towards an earthworm scented army
Beneath a sun that sweats weathered anal beads
And horse glue
Ergo:
Another brand new day
Where it’s too early for anything
Especially interacting
With all these things that insist upon bouncing about
Pretending to be people
When all I want to do is pay for this diet Big Gulp
And swim back to the car
Because I’ve got a broken heart
And a xanex hangover
The size Donald Trump insists
His hands to be and not the actual size
That they are
And there’s a woman standing in the line beside me
Who’s talking in a stage voice
That’s being sued for divorce by the stage
And she’s going on about ‘kitty litter’
As if it’s the answer to everything
As if kitty litter’s gonna save us all
Giving advice to who goddamn knows
She was addressing her imagined Ted Talk towards her phone
The other end could’ve been empty
Or not empty, but for the sake of not giving up
On everything completely right now
Let’s assume the positive
She was talking to a friend who was fond of her
And not a dead phone that never gave a shit
But the thing is, I was only 15 minutes post exiting base camp
And already exhausted by people
But the kitty litter lady was interesting
So I decided to stick it out like I don’t always decide
To stick it out and instead of fleeing back to my futon
I remained in line listening to the kitty litter lady
Make her case for the miracle that is kitty litter
She said things like:
Put kitty litter in an empty paint bucket
If you want to prevent spiders from turning your backyard garden
Into 8 leg each multi-partner orgy sex motels
Your garage window is broken?
Put kitty litter on it.
Problem solved
You hurt your back?
Have you not been listening?
Kitty litter!
It’s a gift from an Ancient Aliens episode
That hasn’t even happened yet!
Believe it!
Kitty litter also prevents wrinkles
But the application process isn’t pretty
And:
If a child’s goldfish dies, bury it in kitty litter
Then sell the tank when the kids not looking
Because as great as kitty litter might be
It can’t make
Dead fish walk beneath water
Or the one who’s willingly left you
Come back
When they don’t want too
So: what else is going on?
I Shaved My Balls For You
31 Aug
I Shaved My Balls For You
I shaved
my balls for you
I don’t know why
because you were already
gone, but I shaved my balls
Not with a razor
but with the nervous terror
that comes with all these years
of whatever this is
and loss
I shaved my balls
so smooth
you could build a haunted house on them
if you wanted to
but upon doing so
the house would just:
slip off
and while clinging to gravity
crumble
into a pile of balls-touched timber
and homeless ghosts
So please don’t build a house on my nuts, darlin’
because I just shaved them
and they’re too goddamn sensitive
and slippery
and why would you want to do something
like that anyway?
If you build a house on my nuts
you’d have to live there
and you don’t want to live there
You want to live elsewhere,
where everyone sweats ice tea
and wears underpants
and lives in cute houses not built
beneath their ex-person-they-used -to
love’s dicks
Which seems weird (to me)
[slight pause] that you live there, but
that’s where you live so:
ok [while looking left, to move on]
I don’t live there though, obviously
I live over here,
with great white shark ice sculptures
and a front row view of the vacant
lot that is my nuts
maybe I should plant flowers there
and watch them die because nobody waters them
like Sinead O’Conner does in that Prince song or
Taylor Swift sings about in that one song of hers
where she borrows a line about flowers from Prince
Shit
that reminds me, tonight:
Prince is dead!
Gene Wilder just died!
and I shaved my balls for you!
for some melodramatic/goddamn reason
Ha!
and when it was over
and all the tiny hairs had been vanquished
to the solitary confinement
of the bathroom floor, for a couple of seconds
I thought about calling you, but didn’t
because: fuck phones
ergo: instead of doing that
I figured it was time to start
re-watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer again
and walked off towards the sunset living room
as the neighbor’s heavy dogs
roared
their Donald Trump guts out
and the lamp beside my futon burst
into tears
that looked like
pummeled light
The Most Unnecessary Bridge In The World
20 Aug
The Most Unnecessary Bridge In The World
So the power chord that I ordered
for this old movie camera that used to be ours
aka/ergo/etc.:
the movie camera stayed with me
what I lost was her
and the chord
(insert sound of time moving: here,
in an ear that has been conveniently shaped
like an extroverted vagina. insert it there, with the vocal intonations
of a mighty Herzog sneezing………can we soundtrack the hell out of it
with the original score from King Kong?……….huh?……….
I miss her?…………I mean, shit
that’s not where I was going with this,
“This is serious.” –Signs
I mean
hell…..)
I know there’s no getting her back
I knew that 40 minutes before the second time
that she left me
(her life left my life and while sure,
my life still stares off in the direction
of her life’s leaving
it’s all maroon vs. purple at this point
it’s irrelevant
her life has a new life to hang out with
and they probably have their own video camera
by now and it’s probably really nice
and they know exactly where the chord is
at all times)
and shit nothing really comes back anyway
because back is just a pile
of misplaced brevity
and previously house shaped sticks
and there’s nothing I can do about that
because I’m a pretty lousy time plumber
and what do I know about sticks?
but goddamn it there was something I could do
about that chord
(baby steps to oblivion)
and what I did was
I ordered a new one
and like I’ve already said at the beginning
of this, or no I haven’t
I got distracted in all this loss of her
because it’s everything, dammit
from the world and that thing that moves time
to the goddamn tree trunks in the backyard of the song
that Bruce Springsteen will never sing for us
once or at all
it’s all of it
everything
made out of loss
which when you think of it…….
right?
so yeah, the chord I ordered for the camera
that’s been sitting in a drawer
with its battery drained from the inside
for 6 years now
that chord showed up today
while I was at work
so when I got home
(two pianos playing rock/paper/scissors
with each move banging only the super-most
saddest of notes)
of course the first thing I did
was plug the entire goddamn thing in
I mean, I really put that shit together
I plugged that fucker in
and all the buttons burned to life
like a gallon’s worth of adrenalin
pumped straight into Uma Thurman’s
pulp fiction shaped chest
and there it was
just fucking sitting there or whatever the hell
it is that digital images of your own past
encased in plastic fucking do
an hour of footage
shot 10 years ago
before my heart had cracked for good
and the world had grown so goddamn unreasonable
that a fuck like Donald Trump actually has a
shot at being President
an hour’s worth of footage of my old life with Helen
60 minutes worth of pixilated memories
60 times more detailed then the memories
I have in my head and………………
……..I’m fighting the urge to be distracted
because to continue on about things we no longer continue
…………………I mean, ouch
“I need a drink”—R Gosling’s daughter in The Nice Guys
so let’s just impale ourselves upon the cliff notes
for now, shall we?
and we can all just try to fill in our own gaps later
agreed?
groovy
fast forward to the bit about how we used to check into
mountain motel rooms and get super drunk
and have a really great time but also if this video tape
is to be believed we used to get into really dumb
stupid fights about stuff too
and for some reason we’d record them
I’ve only watched half of the entire hour
and we’ve already had two long
middle of the night motel arguments
that are so ridiculous and funny
and I found myself screaming to myself
on the tiny video screen to just “Shut up!”
I get so fucking stubborn and let down
about stuff that should just be disagreed upon
for a couple of minutes and then
moved on, or away from, fucking un-dwelled upon
but I had some goddamn theory back then
that if you talked about something long enough
then everything would eventually turn out all right
and we all know how well that worked out for me
so yeah, (cut to the original trailer for
The Creature From The Black Lagoon)
fast forward to the bit about the bridge
at one point in the video when we’re not arguing
like idiots we’re having a really nice time but we’re out of ice
so I grabbed the ice bucket and Helen grabbed the camera
and we headed outside and down the stairs to the ice machine
the motel is structured like a double decker Bates Motel
and the two of us being drunk and laughing about everything
we were convinced that somebody was going to call the cops
on us again because we were being loud and the last time we
had stayed at this particular place somebody had called the cops
so we were trying to be discrete and secret mission-ive as possible
because the ice machine was located directly outside
the motel managers office, which was pretty much
like the local Death Star for us at the time
so the plan was to get in, talk an old man into
disabling the tractor beam, grab the ice, and get
the hell back to our room as quick as Wookily possible
and the plan was going horribly
but goddamn it we were having fun
the ice had been secured, some local squirrels
had been made fun of, and we were about to head
back to the Millennium Falcon which was also known
as: our room, when the two of us at the same time
happened to turn our heads together to the left
and that’s where we saw it
Helen, with the camera
and me with my Helen loving eyes
lodged somewhat symmetrically in my head
behind the motel there was a bridge
it was around two feet long and
one foot off the kind of ground that looked
like it had never seen water
and we just started laughing
because the bridge was unnecessary
on a scale that made it remarkable
like a pumpkin the size of an igloo
or a really great work of art
it was the most unnecessary bridge in the world
nobody gave a shit about that bridge
that night, but we loved that bridge
for the fact that it was excelling at something
even if its area of excelling was
being unnecessary
we laughed about it all the way
back to our room, where we learned
that we’d lost our room key
and Helen set off to the front office to get us a new one
and showed up 10 minutes later laughing and without
the room key because she’d forgotten what she was doing
and did something else instead
which tonight leads into
me, still loving her
while back then it just led
us into another
unnecessary fight
August 16, 2016
17 Aug
August 16, 2016
“I’m not sayin’/there wasn’t nothin’ wrong/
I just didn’t think you’d ever get tired of me”—MB Twenty
So it’s August 16th again
Great
I’m fine with it
Really
Just put the parade back in your pants
about it, will ya?
Because that parade looks miserable
Honestly
The floats don’t seem to be floating
The marching band’s been replaced by
a trombone full of rats and
what the hell have you been feeding those balloons?
August 16th, home of cold Taco Bell and insomnia
land of these long assed shark infested serenades
A lot of things have happened on oh 8 sixteen
over the gut shot course of all these years
some substantially less heart breaking than others
Bukowski/Madonna/Paul Soter was born
Elvis died
I married Helen
Probably in that exact goddamn order
I don’t know
I’m too moody right now to do the math
August 16th 2003, that was a big day
She stitched the date in the back of my shoe
I still have it
(not Helen, the shoe)
I still have the shoe
and the memory of sitting
in a Westport hospital waiting room
next to a long haul trucker with a busted arm
and an unattended head wound
who really loved Elvis
That’s how I know Elvis died on the day he did
This busted armed trucker told us all about it
while I sat there with Helen waiting to get our blood drawn
so the state of Connecticut could confirm
that we didn’t have syphilis
Because for some reason it’s the law out there
You’re only allowed to get married in Westport
if you can provide documented proof
to Paul Newman’s pastor that you don’t have syphilis
“Do you have syphilis?” I asked Helen, after she’d
told me the news that the government wasn’t going
to let us get married if we happened to have syphilis,
between shots of Canadian Mist
“I don’t have syphilis. Do you have syphilis?”
Helen laughed back. Damn she was amazing.
(Fuck)
“I don’t think so.” I told her. “Let’s find out.”
[Historical Note: By ‘find out’ I meant let’s have sex
right now and see if our private bits fall off’, not
let’s go sit in a waiting room and learn a whole bunch
of stuff about Elvis]
So even though we were pretty damn sure
we didn’t have syphilis there we sat
in that medicinally scented waiting room
waiting to find out for sure
waiting for the blood to be drawn
and the tests evaluated
so the doctor could bust through the door
with chocolate donut stuck to his face
smiling with his arms spread wide
and declaring in a voice loud enough
to project across the tiny room
“Good news, you two! You don’t have syphilis!
That’ll be 50 bucks each. Good luck on your std free new life together.
You can pay the lady I’m definitely not banging
at the front window on your way out.”
[Historical Note: She was totally banging him. The entire office literally reeked of cliché]
The Elvis loving truck driver congratulated us
on our living in the modern goddamn world
and not having syphilis, the entire time looking like
he should have bled to death hours ago
I mean fuck, that head wound
it was Viva Las Vegas
But damn, I liked him
and he knew a lot about Elvis
Did you know Elvis Presley
was actually allergic to peanut butter
and his favorite band was Matchbox Twenty?
His favorite color was Pricilla
and he only slept on his left side
because if you sleep on your right side
all the time you’re gonna eventually run out
of right, which only makes sense, right?
Becaise what happens when you run out of right?
You start doin’ wrong
and when you start doin’ wrong you blah blah
blah blah blah
and then fuck, what do I know?
Tonight she’s been gone for the exact amount
of time that we were together
What’s that got to do with syphilis?
I don’t know anymore
It’s fine
Just call me nostalgic
Because if nostalgic means
a person who’s overly sentimental
about certain things that are irrevocably gone and also has an
abnormally large penis then sure,
Fuck it
I’m nostalgic
You win
Judge Judy
3 Aug
Judge Judy
it goes something like ‘Yr honor, she broke my heart’ Her: ‘Your Judge-ishness, I never even really liked him’ Him: Last week you were saying we should get a puppy. I don’t want a goddamn puppy! But I said Are you kidding me?! That’s a great idea! Let’s get a puppy! because I love her, Councilor Judy, so if I gotta put up with a puppy because she wants one, so what? Judge Judy: ‘ Nobody ever has a goddamn point.’ Dude: If she wants a puppy, we’ll get a puppy. Shit. It was her idea. But now she don’t want anything?’ Lady: ‘That’s not true, your honor. I still want a puppy.’. Dude: ‘Objection your honor!’ Judge Judy: ‘I know what an ipod is now. Louis told me about them the other day. Do either one of you own an ipod?’ (makes wavy hand gestures) Nobody says shit for a little bit. Judge Judy to the Bailiff: ‘Did you see that Kati Perry half time show? Sharks can’t dance. That’s ridiculous’. Lady to Guy: ‘I’m sleeping with your unborn brother’. Him: ‘That’s just, so unfair’
