Saturday, October 29, 2016

Nana Was a Movie Star

Nana was a movie star
In the studio system
When limousines were bicycles
And dancing was walking

She went on dates
With blonde men from Iowa
Who won contests
Just to have root beer floats with her

At night, she’d stare at the Hollywood sign
And dream about putting her name
Between the letters
Like a secret message
Only she could read

During the day
She’d make movies
About girls in danger
And girls in love
And girls standing next to boys
Begging them not to go on adventures
That they would always go on anyway

When Nana was just nineteen
She met my grandfather
At a gas station
On Orange Grove Boulevard
Under a billboard
For Dandelion Shampoo

She said she knew right away
That she was going to marry him
And that they were going to have a gorgeous daughter
And a handsome son
And live happily ever after
Just as soon as he was done pumping her gas

You see, Grandfather worked at the gas station
He wasn’t one of the movie stars
Nana was used to going on dates with
He had exactly two dollars and three cents in a bank account
And a little studio apartment
Two houses down from where he worked

When Nana asked him out on a date
He was shocked that a famous lady like her
Would want to spend time
With a guy like him

But they did go on a date
And then another
And then another

Nana always said—

‘Love doesn’t care about professions
Or piggy banks
It just lands where it lands
And sets up shop’

Nana set up shop with Grandfather
At that studio apartment
Less than two months later
When they were married

She stopped making movies
And she stopped drinking root beer floats
And she never went to look at the Hollywood sign
Because somehow it felt dishonest

Years went by
And people would ask—

‘Whatever happened to that beautiful girl
Who used to stand next to the men
And tell them not to go’

But forgetting
Is what people do best
And so they forgot
And new movies became old movies
And old movies became a new kind of history
But not one you would study in school

My Nana and Grandfather
Did have a gorgeous daughter
And a handsome son

The son is my uncle
And the daughter is my mother
And one day when I was over Nana’s house
The television was on
And a black and white movie popped onto the screen
And in that movie
There was a young girl
Who looked just like me

It was one of Nana’s first pictures
‘The Lonely Bride’
And the movie was dramatic
And sad
And no matter how much Nana told her husband
Not to go
He kept going
And leaving her behind
To be the Lonely Bride

When it was all over
I found Nana out in the backyard
Sitting in the sun
Reading a book

‘Nana,’ I said, ‘You never told me you made movies’

She told me everything I’ve told you
And when she was finished
I asked her why she decided to stop making movies
When she married my grandfather
Was it because she thought
She couldn’t be a wife and a mother and a Nana
And a movie star too?

And my Nana said—

‘I just got sick of telling men not to do stuff
And I got sick of not doing anything myself either’

I couldn’t believe it
‘But Nana,’ I said, ‘You were doing things!
You were a movie star!’

She took me up on her lap
And said—

‘Having your mom and uncle and you
Was more of something
Than all the movies in the world
You’ve all been quite an adventure’

‘But,’ I said, ‘You used to see your name
In the Hollywood sign’

And she said—

‘Well now I see my name in you
And that’s better than any old sign’

Nana was a movie star
In the studio system
When limousines were bicycles
And dancing was walking

And she left it all behind
To go off on her own adventure
And the only person who could tell her not to was herself
And so she didn’t tell herself that

She went on an adventure
To become the brightest star she could be

Not to standing next to anyone at all

Friday, October 28, 2016

You're Not Going to Work

You’re not going to work

Let’s just—okay, let’s just
We’re gonna need a minute here
I guess

Because you
Seem to have forgotten
The deal

I work
Okay
I—work

Youuuuuu
Stand around and look cute
And drink your drink
And try to keep your angry rumblings
To a dull roar

While I work whatever room
We’re in
And make sure the mortgage gets paid
On this fucking townhouse
You made me buy

You
Do
Not
Work

What you have going for you
Is that you still look good
What I have going for me
Are all those zeroes
Next to my name

Now, you can pick up a side job
If you want to
But I know exactly
What you’re doing, pal
I am crystal fucking clear on it

You’re trying to, to, to—what?
Find some self-worth?
Find your identity?

Newsflash, buddy
You left your identity
Back in college
With your balls
And my metabolism

We—We, you and I—have settled
Into a lovely groove

Where you can do whatever the fuck you want
While I bust my ass
Including fucking all our friends
And all I ask in return
Is that you stand by my side
And not in my way

It’s a pretty damn good deal
One I’m sure many men
Half your age
Would fall over themselves
To have

So this whole—

‘I want to work’ thing is just—

I mean, Jesus
You’re one of, like, three guys in this city
Who actually
Wants
To work

You want to work at something?
Here’s what you can work at
Work at going to the gym a few more times a week
Until that blossoming gut of yours gets put on notice

Work at reading a book
Or watching something
Other than mindless television
Or appearing interested
In anything that goes on
In my fucking life

Work at keeping yourself desirable
So I don’t have to jerk off every single night
Like I’m a fucking fifteen-year-old
Because I can’t get it up
When you walk around in ratty gym clothes
Looking like you could puke at any moment
Because you’re constantly hung-over from the—

Are you even listening?

Are you even fucking listening to me?

We have the rules pretty set, don’t we?
I mean, they are pretty fucking clear

You get everything I have
Everything I can give you
And you get it forever
Because at this point
We are stuck with each other
Are we not?

So the world is your fucking oyster
And all you have to do in return
Is not try to one up me

Don’t try getting ahead of me
Don’t try getting the best of me
Don’t try doing your own thing

I gave up everything for you
Didn’t I?
--Didn’t I?
And how many times?

So you could chase after
Whatever your passion of the moment was
And none of them worked did they?
Not one thing you ever wanted
Was ever even close to being in your grasp

Now it’s my turn
And I’m doing it
And it’s working
I’m working

And you need to learn how to live with that
Or go live with someone else

But that’s how it is
And that’s how it’s gonna be

That’s how this

Works

Thursday, October 27, 2016

A Small World

When you love someone
It’s a very small world

Because exploring doesn’t frighten you as much
Because reaching out to other people doesn’t seem as hard
Because strangers look like friends
And friends look like family
And family redefines itself
It stretches
It expands
It reaches

Like words reach down
To mean bigger things
Or maybe just
To mean exactly
What they should have meant
All along

Comfort, Joy, Laughter
Hope, Affection, Bright
Smile, Kindness, Tears

You can touch the walls
On either side
Of anywhere
Knowing there isn’t a way to fall
And if you do
You’ll fall back in love
Realizing someone was ready
If the walls gave out

There are places you thought you’d never see
That come into view
And things you gave up on
That materialize
After years and years

You found someone who loved you
You big old fool
How could anything be impossible
After that

Suddenly there are no more
Things You’re Missing Out On
Just things you’ll get to later
And whatever you truly miss
You were never meant to find
In the first place

You have someone
Who holds your feelings
Who tells you stories
Who records your history
Alongside their own

There are countries
And heavens
And underwater kingdoms
And ice and heat
And panoramic lifetimes
That used to belong
To more adventurous people
People without fear
People who had someone
To hold their feelings

And now you’re those people
Aren’t you?

Poetry would tell us
About waking up
Next to someone
And how it’s a gift

But if we’re being honest
Every day you wake up
Not in someone else’s arms
Because eventually
Sleeping reasserts itself
As a solitary thing
Legs kick
Snoring develops
Bedsides are chosen

No, instead, you wake up
In someone else’s world
And what a world it is

How modestly endless
How tremendously small

Because love can take a world
And shrink it down
While spreading it out
All at the same time

It can make a lifetime
Seem endless
And instantaneous

It can gather you up
And take you
Wherever you need to go

And though you’ve heard it
All your life
It really is a small world
After all

But what you never heard
Was that love

Is what makes it that way

Tuesday, October 11, 2016

Bigger Than the Life You Live

I went to see you
At the cemetery
And I sat down
On your stone

Told you I was getting high again
And I’m scared to be alone

Had a sip from a cup
Of Jerry’s lemonade

Watched the sunset over water towers
Dreaming I was sitting on a hill somewhere
California asking when I’m gonna come visit
Figuring out how to make myself over again

And you were always—

Bigger than the life I live
Better than the person I was last year
Broker than a joke
And happy like a fool
A fool without a view
And nothing much to do
But hang out

And figure out
What that’s all about

Took a job that I didn’t want
To try and pay the rent
Spent two paychecks on whiskey sodas
And packs of Lucky Strikes

I didn’t like being cooped up
With my mom’s best friend
Hearing stories about
How pretty she was

Got hung up in trenches
And found in a maze
I wasn’t crazy enough
To be your favorite

I wasn’t—

Bigger
Bigger than the life I live
Longer than my Daddy hung around
Broker than a joke
And funnier too
But not funnier than you
And you
You were always bigger than me

One day in bed
Someone handed me a smoke
And said ‘Tell me ‘bout him’

So I mentioned your name
And a few of your favorite movies

Said you looked like Mom
And you played guitar
And you deserved better
Than death by broken heart

I remember your legs
Hanging over the tub
The ink on the note
Still wet

Water on the floor
And your eyes wide open
Like you were wondering why
I wasn’t crying yet

You were bigger
Bigger than a person’s life oughta be
Bigger than the life you wanted for me
Bigger than the key that could set you free
And six months goes like whispering
Six months, seven months
Where you been?

Sitting on a stone
In a cemetery
Feeling like I’m
The guilty party

So smoke your cigarettes boys
And drink your lemonade
In case somebody hurts you
Bad enough one day

And I just wanna be—

Bigger
Bigger than songs you used to write
Faster than the cards you used to drive
And smarter than you were
When you were alive

Broker than a joke
You’ve heard a thousand times

Broker than a joke
You’ve heard a thousand times

Broker than a joke

You’ve heard a thousand times

Hold My Calls

If you want to know
What I’m looking for
It’s this—

It’s to connect
To listen to the person
You’re—

One sec

Hold my calls, Chris
Can you hold my calls?
Thanks
Thanks so much

Chris is great
Have you met Chris?
Maybe on the way in?
Did he smile at you?
I'm always telling him to smile
He has this weird tooth
And it makes him self-conscious

I had Jonathan before Chris
He was with me for awhile
He’s in Marketing now
Jonathan was fantastic
Went to marketing
And it was like—I mean, he just took off
Like a rocket
It was—I was so proud

Not that he doesn’t deserve to take credit
For his own accomplishments
But to go from assistant
To marketing
I mean, that doesn’t happen
That just—it never happens
It just doesn’t

Now—

Chris, sorry
I know I told you
To hold my calls
But if Allison from Seattle calls
I am going to need to take that
So you can put her through
But nobody else
Okay?

Thanks Chris

Chris is great
Chris just—

I don’t even need to tell him
Half the time
What it is I—I—you know
What I’m looking for
What I need him to, you know, do

Chris?
Could I get a potato?
Just a potato
Like, just to chew on
I don’t know
Any potato really
I forget what kinds there are
Maybe bring me a couple of potatoes
And I’ll see which one looks the best
You know, the most, um, um—Uh—
Appetizing

Thanks Chris

Love Chris
Love him
He’s great
He’s not Jonathan
But Jonathan is—

You only get one Jonathan in your life
That’s what you learn
That’s what you learn in this business
The Jonathan’s are few and far between

And before Jonathan it was Tailor
Spelled with an ‘I’
Like the guy who takes in suits
I don’t know why he spelled it that way
But I thought it was cute
He was cute
We had sex a few times
Not here though
Not in the office
That would be—

Once in the conference room
Just once
But it was after hours
And this was before he was my assistant
It was while we were still in the interview stage
So that might’ve made it even worse
But that was also during a lapse of professionalism
Which tends to happen a few times a year
Usually when I’m about to hire a new assistant

It happened with Tailor and Chris
But not with Jonathan
Because Jonathan was very professional
And that’s why I had him transferred to marketing
Because at a certain point
All that professionalism
Just becomes exhausting, you know?

Do you know what I’m talking about?

Chris?

Do you remember Jonathan?
Did you ever meet him?
He’s in marketing now
And I won’t let you go there
Because you might run into him
And I don’t want you two
Comparing notes about me

Also, I’m not sure his name was really Jonathan
It’s just what I called him

I always loved the name Jonathan
The first man I ever loved was named Jonathan
He was a fisherman
Although he didn’t own a boat
And I always thought that was odd
But when you live in a land-locked state
Nobody really owns boats
But you don’t see a lot of fishermen either

So what are you doing here?

Oh right, you’re interviewing
To replace Chris
Once I transfer him
To Accounting

He’s a wonderful assistant
I’m just tired of hearing him
Accuse me of sexual harassment

Chris?  Have you filed that report yet
With HR?

Well, let me know when you do
So I can file my own report

…But if you could wait to file your report
Until I’m ready
That would be great

I should have mine all set
By next Wednesday
But I would like to have sex with you
A few more times before then
If that’s all right?

Chris?

Chris?

I think he went to lunch

Sometimes he does that
When he needs to cry in the stall
And scroll through job listings online
I get it, you know?
I so get it

Now—let’s talk about your resume

I gotta tell you

I’m looking at you
And I’m nodding
And I’m smiling
And I’m thinking…

We could be a really
Good
Team

Saturday, October 1, 2016

The Man with the Perfect Joke

There once was a man
Who told a perfect joke

He ran it over
To the nearest person
He could find
To see if it was as perfect
As he thought it might be

The man who heard the joke
Laughed so hard
He turned into a hedgehog
Because his insides
Rolled in on themselves
And all he could do
Was curl up inside his own laughter
And stay there forever

A hedgehog, the man with the perfect joke said
Amazed that he was right
About this thing he now possessed

A hedgehog is how you know
You’ve told the perfect joke

After that, the man with the perfect joke
Traveled around the country
Telling it to anyone who would listen
Because this was before television
And radio
And other means of communicating
To large masses of people
All at once

Besides, the man with the perfect joke
Wanted to see the expression
Of each and every face
The joke touched

He wanted to hear every giggle
Every guffaw
Every outburst of excited enthusiasm

And not everyone he told the joke to
Turned into hedgehogs

Because each sense of humor
Is slightly different
Finely tuned
Curiously complicated

One woman laughed and then immediately forgave
Everyone who had ever wronged her
Realizing that the funny thing about resentment
Is that it sticks not in your heart
But in your lungs
Like a cold
And it just takes a good joke
To knock it loose

One boy laughed and turned into a man
Because one moment he knew nothing
And the next moment he knew he knew nothing
And that was enough
To make him adult

One old gentleman who heard the joke
Remembered the girl he had loved in high school
Mary Marie McMartin
Because she had made him laugh
The way that perfect joke
Made him laugh
And he traveled to London
Where she was living with her children
And he asked to marry her
Because once you remember what it’s like
To laugh at the perfect joke
It’s all you want to do
For the rest of your life

Now, not everyone who heard the perfect joke
Enjoyed it

I should be honest about that
Because I’m a storyteller
And a story should always be honest
Even if it can’t always be funny

The man with the perfect joke knew this
And he would want me to tell you how it was
When he met people
Who didn’t like his joke

They were people who didn’t want to laugh
Because they were busy with their own sadness
The way the woman with the resentment
Was busy cultivating her ever-simmering fury

The man with the perfect joke
Would tell these sad people his joke
Again and again
Thinking that surely the greatest joke of all time
Could work its way into the souls of these sad salamis
And spin them around

But one of the sad people
Finally put up their hands
And said—

“Please sir,
We appreciate what you’re doing
But giving us a joke
Is like giving a jigsaw puzzle
To a toddler

We’re just not ready for it’

This utterly unraveled the man with the perfect joke
And he walked across the country again
This time without the joke on his mind
Wondering what good he could do
If a perfect joke
Could fail
To make some people happy

Maybe it wasn’t enough
The joke
Laughter
Comedy

Maybe it was too little
Too simple
Too silly
Too surface

When it came to truly helping people
Maybe no joke had
What was—
Required

The man with the perfect joke
Ended up on a bench
Somewhere outside Scoville, Massachusetts
Known today affectionately as Scovie
To those who live there

He sat on the bench
For four days
And four nights
And on the morning of the fifth day
A little girl sat down next to the man
And asked him
If he would like
To hear
A joke

He thought about it
And said—

Yes

Because it occurred to him
That at that moment
He really did
Need to hear a joke

So the little girl
Told him
The worst joke
In the world

A joke so bad
Only someone pure of heart
Could find the worth
In telling it

And that joke was so awful
And so so so so not funny
That it was actually
Quite perfect

And the man with the perfect joke
Laughed

And when he laughed
He didn’t turn into a hedgehog
Or forgive a wrong done to him years ago
He didn’t propose to a lost love
Or reach a new plateau of maturity

He just laughed
And felt better
And thanked the little girl
Who got up
And walked away
Not knowing that she had done the job
She was never hired to do

And from that day on
The man with the perfect joke
Went back to traveling the country
And the world
And beyond
Telling his perfect joke

And one day he told it to me
Along with the story
I’ve just told you
And he asked me
To tell everyone I could

And when I asked him why
He said—

‘Because maybe someone
Needs to hear it’

And I said—

‘Maybe, but—
I’m not sure it’s much of a story’

And the man with the perfect joke said—

‘It might be to somebody
And somebody is the person
That needs to hear it’

So I’ve been telling the story ever since
And now I’m telling it all to you
In case one of you needs to hear it

As for the man with the perfect joke
He came became the Poet Laureate
Of a country, you’ve never heard of

I know it’s unusual for a funny man
To be considered a poet
But what is poetry
If not the thing that reminds us
Not just that we are human
But that we should always aspire
To stay human

And what does that
Better than a joke?

And I always end this story
The way I would end a prayer
Because if prayers are what we give to god
Jokes are prayers we give to each other

So here it goes—

Blessed is forgiveness
May it one day be contagious
Blessed is growing up
May it one day be extinct

Blessed is lost love
May it always wind up found
Blessed are the hedgehogs
May we all spend our lives
Laughing

And blessed are the jokes
And the people who tell them
For they hand out prayers
Like handshakes

Little do they know
What they give might not always be perfect
But it's always
Enough