Archive for July, 2009

Night Out (short story pt 1)

Posted in Uncategorized with tags on July 18, 2009 by unsensible

The term “ugly hot” came to Tina’s mind. His face was long and thin, pock marked around his chin, which was pronounced given him a somewhat comic look. He was leaning against an orange yellow brick wall, made red and dreadful in the lamplight, outside the yuppie bistro where she worked.

In his jeans, white v-neck, and faded sports jacket, he could have been anything or anyone. A college kid. A business man. An artist. A homeless man. The wispy barely there goatee and devil-may-care hair only deepened the mystery.

She couldn’t be sure why she had come over to him. It was the end of her shift and she never stopped to talk to men she didn’t know outside the restaurant, though they frequently tried to talk to her. The last thing she wanted to do was endure the drunken advances of patrons twice her age who thought this was their golden chance to get to know her on a more personal level.

But she had seen him talking to another girl that worked there. She didn’t know her well, but she could see the girl in her distinct black button down shirt and knee length black skirt that was more or less the uniform for the girls of the bistro. The new girl was shifting her hips back and forth, visible from behind like a slow motion pendulum, apparently with the force of her interest in the conversation, though Tina felt it was a bit over the top. “Come on, get a room, then,” she thought. But the man seemed to be performing, working to impress, and Tina had a code—if someone was going to show off in her vicinity, she would call him out on it.

She walked right up to the cocky bastard in the pale coat and said, “Ok let’s see it.” He took her in for a second, took his lit cigarette and extinguished it on his tongue ending with a bow and a leer that she supposed was meant to be ingratiating. The other girl tittered with interest, but Tina was far from impressed. Yes, that act was great in high school. But now at his age… (How old was he? She couldn’t tell.) It was pointless, juvenile, and disgusting. She told him so, and turned to leave. If she walked quickly enough she could catch some good 11:00 television, put her feet up, and have some cheap zinfandel. It wasn’t much, but it was usually the highlight of a Friday work night.

But he seemed less than inclined to let her walk away. “Don’t go home, sweet lady. What’s the point of drinking alone? There’s so much to see tonight.”

So, he was odd and presumptuous, the not entirely inaccurate. He segued quickly into trick number two: blowing passable smoke rings with a cherry flavored cigar. The rings actually held their shape as they climbed the night air. It was a little impressive, but she wouldn’t admit that, on principle. “I have to go,” Tina said. She noticed the other girl was gone, seemingly having melted into the shadows.

“There’s nothing on TV. It’s summer. It’s all reruns,” he chided. His prescience was becoming irksome. Was she that obvious?

“I have somewhere to be,” Tina lied.

“Let me try again. I can tell you are a lady to be reckoned with. My first two tricks, pure silliness. I’ll do the third one for serious, this is the night for it anyway.”

She smirked a little despite herself. What would this shabby little man pull out of his proverbial hat next? The possibilities were underwhelming.

He took her hand, quite without asking, and began to walk quickly across the street. Cars were coming steadily, and often too quickly for the width of the two-lane, one-way street, but he seemed to walk without looking and she was so stunned by his behavior she followed.

He released her hand quite innocently on the other side and pelted for the great stone edifice in front of them – the public library. Wide stone steps lead up to the glass front doors, which were locked and dark at this hour. But instead of taking the steps he flitted to the side of the building. She had to run a little in his kitten heels just to keep sight of him. By the time she turned the corner, he had already managed to pull down an access ladder on the whitewashed concrete sidewalls of the library. He gave her a quick jerk of the head, and began to ascend the ladder.

“What are you doing,?” Tina called from below.

“A third trick,” he responded. He was at the top of the ladder and hoping over onto the library’s flat roof before she could respond.

“No,” she said to herself. “I’m not following the strange man onto the roof of this building.” But Tina was guilty of more than a little curiosity in her nature. She stood in the alley waiting for him to call out again, to explain his little trick, but she heard nothing. Minutes went by. He might have evaporated altogether for all she knew.

Incredulous, she found herself climbing the ladder after him, in her Mary Janes and pencil skirt. “Curiosity did the cat,” she thought “why not me?”

A Dream Deferred — By Langston Hughes

Posted in Uncategorized on July 16, 2009 by unsensible

What happens to a dream deferred?

Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore–
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over–
like a syrupy sweet?

Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.

Or does it explode?

Z and the Adventure

Posted in Uncategorized with tags on July 10, 2009 by unsensible

He doesn’t speak
He sings the voice of angels
High ringing notes to the heavens
A whispers sweet soft sounds in some forgotten language
Known only to him
That speak of peace and comfort
Over and over in a rapid circles
(Mwah yayayaya, mwah yayayaya)

He doesn’t walk, but dances
On his tip toes and the balls of his feat
In rhythm to whatever music he can find
From the TV or the dishwasher or the dogs collar
It’s all the same, it all builds anticipation
And when it’s too much flies in a circle and lands on his belly,
Hands flapping, fingers waving
Over and over if that’s what it takes to feel it through

He doesn’t sleep
He’s got better things to do
And he must take his energy from the sun

People don’t know him
But if they did they’d love him
His eyes are the ocean
And if you catch them
He’ll send you floating away

And I’m not sure he knows what autism is
I’m not sure I know what autism is
But if I did?
I used to see it as the darkness in a cave
And he was walking to fast and every step took him further away
But I’m in the cave with him now
(I know that now)
And I don’t know what we’ll find
We’ll find it together

Don’t cry out
We’re doing it together
I’ll hold your hand
(I won’t let you hit yourself)
We are walking, two fine gentlemen,
Father and son
Out for an adventure
Seeing what we find

The Rose Cutters

Posted in Uncategorized with tags on July 4, 2009 by unsensible

In the end, it’s the clip of the crop
Sheared scissor-like in a metallic beak
Snatched away by long denim hands
Laid to rest in a ten-gallon bucket
Sloshing dazed and half alive
Your head just above water
Bobbing with your sisters
Like shipwrecked ladies at seas
Billowing in their petticoats
Full round heads red looking for a savior

But a rose in her element
Never thinks about the end.

Subject Line

Posted in Uncategorized on July 4, 2009 by unsensible

Draw everything about you
A period a backslash
A forward slash an ampersand
Underscore and pound sign
Number sign a carrot and a bracket
Send your heart over a wire

BCC it to yourself
Subject line:
It’s damn near Christmas
Do you know where you’ve been?

What Price Beauty

Posted in Uncategorized with tags on July 4, 2009 by unsensible

A penny for your thoughts
One nickel for your smile
A sweet Susan B Anthony for what goes on underneath those robes

What price beauty?

We pay for what’s important
The price is set by demand
And demand
Demand on the open market

I’ll take half a pound of flesh
But not a drop of blood
(Hold the blood yourself)

And if it hurts, please bear in mind this is a business
We are amping up supply
Supply
Supply some fresh smiles
Like morning flowers melted by noon
And that’s you too
Consider yourself well used in the bargain

I’m sorry this is unpleasant
Please
Keep the blood, the heart, the brain

We don’t need it
There’s no market
(The market favors clean pale flesh)

Going once? Going twice? Do I have a buyer?

What price beauty?

(This is all quite regular. It will soon be over. You’ll maybe believe it’s a dream)

somewhere i have never travelled (ee cumming)

Posted in Uncategorized on July 3, 2009 by unsensible

somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond
any experience, your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully, mysteriously) her first rose

or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility: whose texture
compels me with the colour of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens; only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands