Tuesday, April 28, 2009

Malcolm Cleans Out His Locker

-- Since it already feels like summer --

"Malcolm Cleans Out His Locker"

Five photos of Sarah Michelle Gellar
Four of them from "Buffy"
One of them from "Scooby Doo"
It makes sense to like her
She's a girl girls like
But gay men adore
And when he came out
He didn't have to take the photos down
It was still acceptable
To want to sleep with boys
And still want to have sex with SMG

He remembered the day he told Tara
And Tara told everyone
Tara was his best friend
But she was an unstoppable gossip
And he really couldn't blame her

During the assembly
'Sophomore Year and You'
The principal had reminded his class
That by the time they were seniors
Many of them would be gone

'Look to your left.
Look to your right.
By your last day here
One of you will be gone.'

Malcolm found it on the shelf
Pressed up against the back of the locker
The candy necklace Anil Faomi gave to him
Two years ago
When Faomi graduated

It wasn't so much a gift
As it was a toss-off

'You like candy? Here.'

But Malcolm had kept it
Even after it started turning gray
Because Anil was cute
So insanely cute
And he had dated Tara
Who totally didn't deserve him
But he would never tell Tara that
Even though he she barely remembered Anil now
Nor did she keep sentiments to remind her of him

He went to Temple
Malcolm tried to get into Temple
He failed
He failed at most things
So he was going to Buxley

Buxley was one of those schools
That people didn't know existed
So that when you said--

'I'm going to Buxley'

Their eyes squinted a bit
As if trying to see it in their heads
The way one might attempt to see Wonderland
Or Never Neverland
That was Buxley
That was where Malcom was going

A letter from Curtis Dovetail
Whose last name really was Dovetail
In which he admitted having a crush on Malcolm
Curtis was expelled
For flashing Mr. Myers in P.E.
When Myers tried to force him to play touch football
Against his will

Curtis proclaimed his love for Malcolm
Using words like 'impulse' and 'flesh'
As in--

'I find myself having an impulse to lick your flesh.'

This freaked Malcolm out
He was fifteen when Curtis was expelled
They would have graduated together
Perhaps they would have dated
Perhaps they'd be cleaning out their lockers together
Or maybe they'd be sharing a locker
Like the duplex Malcolm's Dad shared
With his scizo Uncle Joe

But when Malcolm first received the letter
He broke out into a sweat
It was after school
Luckily
So nobody was around
To grab the letter out of his hand
To announce its contents to the world
To the entire school
Who would laugh and jeer
Then crucify him to scoreboard
Out on the field

He read the letter quickly
Scanned the hallways
Then read it again
Each time not believing the words
Not believing what they meant

That Curtis was like him
That they were alike
That Curtis knew this
And that Malcolm didn't know it
Until he read the letter

When he got to the part
About Curtis fantasizing
Making love to him
On the ferris wheel
During the class trip
To Great Adventure
He felt himself getting excited
So he threw the letter into his locker
And slammed it shut

Over the next two years
He would commit the letter to memory
He would casually ask people about Curtis
And the news was never good

Bounced from school to school
Mom tried to kill herself
Dad in prison
Curtis moved to Daytona
Then Miami
Then Montana
Then back to Miami
Then who knows where?

When Malcolm told Tara
When he really told her
He showed her the letter
And she cried

Tara always felt things
Moreso than other people
Even if she was a bitch
Who talked sooo much shit

'It's so sad, you know?'
'Yeah.'
'That you two missed each other like that.'
'Yeah.'
'Just sad.'
'Yeah.'

Malcolm folded up the letter
And put it in his pocket
He was a little nervous about bringing it home
His mom liked to snoop
But he'd find a place for it
He wanted to keep it
Even though he knew every word

The yearbook might as well go in the trash
Despite the false well-wishing
In bright pink pen and green swishes
Otherwise known
As the handwriting
Of his fellow classmates

'Keep Smiling!'
'Love ya!'
'K.I.T. Malcolm!'

He wished that they would have written
What they really wanted to--

'I always thought you were weird.'
'I started a rumor that you were a pagan.'
'I have no idea who you are.'

The only reason he kept the yearbook
Was a phone number--

'Call me this summer. We should hang.'

Travis Dunne's phone number
And his house number
And his e-mail address
All in a gorgeous row

To Malcolm
This could only mean one thing

'Malcolm, he's not.'

Tara wouldn't hear of it
Even though Travis--

1) Always sat next to him in every class they had together.
2) Teased him for no reason and then offered to 'hang out.'
3) Had never had a girlfriend, only a girl space friend, Trina Parker, who had a wicked protective boyfriend who didn't seem to care that Trina was best friends with Travis which meant he wasn't jealous and why wouldn't he be jealous unless Trina had said 'Listen, Travis is gay, so it's cool if we hang out, but don't tell anybody, okay?'
4) Dressed really nice, like, really really nice...like, you know...NICE.
5) Also had photos of SMG up in his locker.

Malcolm was going to wait
And call Travis
Once school was out
But Travis was going to NYU
And who knew when he was going to leave?

So he dialed six of the numbers
The night Travis wrote in his yearbook
Then hung up the phone
He did this eighteen times
On the nineteenth try
He had Tara come over
So she could do it for him

'It's ringing.'
'Hang up.'
'No! I came over here for this!'
'Please hang up.'
'It's still ringing.'
'Tara, I'm not kidding!'
'Neither am I.'
'Tara--'
'Don't make me punch you.'
'No! You punch hard!'

Nobody was home
He grabbed the phone
Before Tara could leave
An inappropriate message

Who knew when he would call again
Maybe after graduation
Maybe Travis would still be around
And if not...

There was always the five-year reunion

The last thing in his locker
Was the book
From Mr. Woolf
The one he'd gotten
On the day of his exam

It was a copy of 'Sure of You'
The last book
In the 'Tales of the City' series
That Mr. Woolf had seen him reading
Whenever he'd finish a test early
Or when they had a few minutes left
At the end of class

Mr. Woolf asked him about the books
And he felt embarrassed
The editions Malcolm had
Were embossed with naked gay men
Albeit naked gay cartoon men
Right on the front cover

He couldn't even bring himself
To buy them at the bookstore
So he had Tara do it for him
Since she had no shame

'Oh my God. Again? How fast do you read?'

Malcolm covered the books
Using post-it notes
And the other kids just chalked it up
To another weird quirk
In his personality

But Mr. Woolf recognized the back cover
So obviously he'd read them too
He'd asked why Malcolm liked the books
But all Malcolm could sputter out
Was the name of one of the characters
His favorite character

'Michael...I like Michael.'

Naive country boy
Moves to the big gay city
Falls in love with a doctor
Lives in a fabulous hillside apartment
Befriends Mary Ann Singleton
Who was like Tara
If Tara wasn't a slut
Maybe Tara was Mona
But Malcolm didn't like Mona
And besides--

'I like Michael, too.'

That had been all
Mr. Woolf had said

Malcolm was on the second-to-last book
The day of the final exam
And when he finished
And went to drop off the exam
At Mr. Woolf's desk
The very young
Obviously handsome
So much so that his elective classes
Were mostly filled with girls
Because why else would anyone take a class called--

'Post-Colonial Literature'

Mr. Woolf held up a finger
Reached in his clearly expensive attache
And handed Malcolm a book
The last book--'Sure of You'

'Congratulations, Malcolm.'

He wasn't sure why he was being congratulated
He'd kind of figure out later
Anyway, he'd have theories
But at that moment
He simply said--

'Thank you'

--Took the book
Walked calmly to the hallway
Then ran all the way home

The book had notes in the margins
Lots of notes
Fun little sayings
Expressions
Nothing inappropriate

It was an old copy
Probably from when Mr. Woolf
Was in high school
No, college
Yes, definitely college

It was a piece of his past
And it was exhilarating

'Oh my God! You have to let me read it!'

He did not let Tara read it
But he read it
And re-read all the things
That Mr. Woolf had written

Especially the last page
That had the following corny inscription
Written on the day
Mr. Woolf gave him the book

'Be sure of yourself, Malcolm. Best Wishes, Adam.'

Adam
Adam
Adam

Adam Woolf
Malcolm Woof
Mr. Malcolm Woolf

God, that would sound good
But what was his problem?
He wasn't a child
He was going to college
Granted, to Buxley
But still!

He put the book
In his bag
And zipped it shut

That was all

The locker was clear
Graduation was in two days
Tara was moving to San Diego
With her boyfriend
A tattoo artist
Named Fin

This was how life began
Adult life
Life you enjoyed
It began with a clean locker

It began by looking to your left
It began by looking to your right
Realizing you had done it
You had really done it

And then shutting the door
And walking away

Monday, April 27, 2009

The Problem with Daughters

--  Romeo, Romeo  --

"The Problem with Daughters"

She loves him
She does
I can see it in her eyes
That mix
Of stupidity and grandeur

She adores him
And she loves
That I hate him
That we all hate him
It makes him more appealing

I told her father
I told her we should have smiled
We should have smiled
And pretended it was fine
Family feuds be damned
All we had to do was smile
And she should have lost interest

She does not like boys like him
Not normally
He's chubby
I don't mean to be mean
But he is
He's chubby
Who could be this in love
With a chubby boy like that?

Not my daughter
My daughter is gorgeous
Have you ever seen hair like that?
I would kill for her hair
She cut it once
When she was seven
I wanted to murder her
Destroying hair like that

Do you know what she told her father?
She told him
That they made love
Using only her hair
As a blanket

He threw up
All over the place
My poor husband
You can't say things like that to him
Let alone scream them across a room

The imagery hit him
Like a wave on the ocean
And up went dinner
All over the new carpet

My daughter's love
Made my husband vomit
No one can be happy anymore
It's true, really, it is

I could have NEVER
Said anything like that
To my father
Or my mother
Or anybody

I was never so comfortable
Talking about things like that
I never even knew
Things like that
Happened

Maybe I'm envious
Hell, of course I'm envious
My daughter is having sex
I can't even imagine
And with a chubby boy!
Imagine what she could do
With someone attractive

At least she has a talent
I'm a good hostess
That's my gift
But what good is it
When nobody will come to your house
Because your husband keeps throwing up
And your daughter screams obscenities
In the hallways

I should have had a son
Sons are so much easier
The problem with daughters
Is that they feel a natural competitiveness
With their mothers

Or maybe it's the other way around

All I know is
My daughter sensed
That I had no passion
In my life

So she went out
And destroyed her life
Making sure
That the only thing about it
That was notable
Was the passion

The irrational
Unnecessary
Passion

Hold on a second...

That chubby boy is outside again
He's yelling something
Who knows what

She says he's a poet
I tell her you can't make money
As a poet

She tells me there's more to life
Than money
That's how I know she's crazy
Let her wash vomit out of carpet
Instead of having somebody do it for her
Then ask her how feels about money

He is a sweet boy
I have to say, he is
I can't lie about that

But there are so many sweet boys
There is a world
Full of sweet boys
Some of them svelte
And some of them
Are even poets

Not many
But some

. . . . .

I'm going to lose her
I'm going to lose her to sweet words
I'm going to lose her to poetry
To passion
To her rebellious nature

I'm going to lose here

That's the problem with daughters
You lose them
You have to lose them
And you don't know
If you get them back

Losing is a guarantee
Reclaiming them is not

. . . . .

When she was a little girl
She used to play magician
She'd make potions
Drink them
Then curl up and die

These big
Dramatic
Death scenes

And I used to feel a pang

I knew she was playing
But she was so good at it
So good at embracing
Something that terrified me

Death
Her death
And mine, I guess

I hated when she played magician
Because even toying with the idea
Was too scary for me

Being her mother
Is like going on a diet
I keep telling myself--

Tomorrow I'll tell her it's okay
I'll tell her she can love whoever she wants
I'll tell her I understand
Even though I don't

I'll let her go
Tomorrow

That's the problem, you know
The problem is I love her too much
Every mother loves their child
But I love mine too much

That's the problem
That's what's going to do me in

If There's a Ghost Here

--  Influence #15:  Ghosts  --

"If There's a Ghost Here"

If there's a ghost here
He can stay here
He don't have to go nowhere
I'm not scared
I'm not scared of ghosts
I ain't afraid of no--

Oh

You heard that before
Sure, that's okay
I'll just make some eggs
Let me know if you want any

If there's a ghost here
I hope he's handsome
I hope he's damn handsome
Because if I gotta live with a man
He might as well
Be a handsome man
Dead or not
No reason not to be handsome

I'm not above
Falling in love with a dead man
I fell in love with Swede
And he needed heart paddles
Every once in awhile
Not a laid back style
But more like a stuffed dog
Bug on a log
Couldn't be moved
To make love or fall in love
So I kept making eggs
And begging for attention
Till I got too tired to care

You listening to me?
You here?

I been here a long time
And I'm fine where I am
I don't give a damn
If you move spoons
Throw shit across the room
Groom my dog
Or scare the cat
That don't bother me

If there's a ghost here
I hope he'll sit
And have coffee with me
Been a long time
Since I sat and had coffee
With a nice friend
And since you're here
You might as well be pleasant
Plant yourself at the table
Let me talk for a bit
I don't got too much shit to say
But I'll talk anyway
Just cause it relaxes me

You'll get to like me
You'll see

So if there's a ghost here
Dear, you can stay
I'm going to bed
I'm tired
Been working all day
But it's nice to know you're here
Been needin' someone
Since Swede had to run
Used to just have the ghost of Swede
A secondhand ghost
That I didn't need
But now I got you
And you'll do
You'll do just fine

Plus you're all mine
My very own ghost

Don't that sound nice?
Well, if there's a ghost here
Goodnight

Saturday, April 25, 2009

On Bullying

-- This is the uncle from "That Which Does Not Kill Us" giving the little nephew advice on bullying. --

"On Bullying"

Here's what I have to say
About what to do
When you're being bullied

Some would tell you
That fighting back is appropriate
I agree
But little nephew
If you're like me
Then fighting back
Will not only stop the bullying
It will give the bullies more material

When your uncle fought back
It was a little like watching a chicken
Running away from a farmer
With a cleaver in his hand

You knew who was going to win
And who was going to wind up in soup

So what do you do?

Here's my suggestion
It's called...

The Machiavellian Approach

I don't know
If it's actually Machiavellian
But it sounds good
Doesn't it?

When you're being bullied
Tell the bully
That you're dying

Say 'Hey, must be real funny picking on a DYING kid'

If he doesn't believe you
Cough and clutch your arm
Then fall to the ground
And spit a lot

When he runs away
Get up
Dust yourself off
And smile

You've won

After the Divorce

-- Child of divorce, can you tell? --

I want the salt and pepper shakers
The steel ones that could kill a person
Those are coming with me
After the divorce

I want the ceramic monkey
The one you gave me
On our fifth anniversary
Rather than something of value
That's coming with me
After the divorce

I want the naked photos of me
Obviously

I want the framed crossword puzzle
The completed New York Times crossword puzzle
The biggest accomplishment of my life
To counteract the biggest failure of my life
That's coming with me
After the divorce

I want the television
Not because I actually want it
Moreso because
I don't want YOU to have it

I want all photos of your father
So that I can burn them
On a pyre
Along with my wedding ring
Which is so poorly made
I bet it'll evaporate
As soon as it touches any heat
Greater than my natural finger warmth

I want every book I ever bought you
Since you never read any of them
And you won't read them once I'm gone
So I might as well take them with me
And educate myself
Before death takes me

I want to meet a man
A stupid, beautiful man
And I want to learn to rhumba
And I want to rhumba with him
The gorgeous idiot
And I want to take photos
And send them to you
I want to have fun again
After the divorce

I want to eat fast food
I want to eat all the things
I couldn't eat
Because you had to be on
A special diet
Where the only acceptable meals
Are rice and fish
Or fish and rice
Or rice
Or fish
Or water

I ate like that for years
But I don't have to eat like that
Anymore

I can take up drinking again
I can watch what I want on television
I can wear outfits that show off my body
I can get married again
And it can work
Next time

Isn't that amazing?
There's a next time
There IS a next time
And if there isn't
I'll never know

Isn't that wonderful?

I want to love somebody
I wanted to love you
But I don't think I ever actually did
That's unfortunate
But what's even more unfortunate
Is that I think you actually did love me

And I did more for you without love
Than you did for me with it

I don't want that to happen again
After the divorce

I want to get dogs
I want to have fish
I want to own all the animals
I couldn't own
Because you were allergic

I want to go to stupid movies
I want to be a good friend again
I want to travel
And I want to go far

I'll admit
It wasn't much of a marriage
But honey
It's going to be one hell of a good divorce

Hamilton Hays

I wrote the movie
So I could be in the movie
That's no secret
Everybody knows that
It might as well be the tagline

Nobody likes that
When people write their own roles
Especially when the script
Turns out to be good
Then they really freak out

Because then, as a writer
Your power stretches into casting
And that really makes people uncomfortable
Because a writer is not supposed to have any control
At least, not a young writer

I can understand that
I like having control
But you have to be smart
To have all the control
Not really to have it
But to keep it

I'll give them credit for one thing though

They didn't ask me to be straight

I was kind of shocked
Then I realized

They think I'm the weakest link
From an acting perspective anyway
From a fame perspective
From a 'selling the movie' marketing perspective
So what does it matter if I'm gay?

Everyone knows I'm gay anyway

That's how I lost that role
In the movie Dede was doing

She's really sweet, by the way
Dede

Totally cool
Like you wouldn't believe

She didn't care that I was gay
But I had just come out
And everybody thought
That we wouldn't sell a romantic comedy
With a gay guy in the lead

Which is pretty ironic
Considering how many teenage girls
End up in relationships with gay men

Back then I was one of the intellectual cuties
For girls who didn't think they could get Nikao Brody

But I came out
And the teen girls--

They weren't having it

They like to know
That there's a chance
Even if it's a sliver
Of a chance

They need to know
That there's at least that chance
That if you could meet them
You'd fall in love with them
And marry them

Or forget it
They abandon you
And put up new posters
In their lockers
Of guys you've banged
Who are still saying
They're waiting for--

'The Right Girl'

I really only wanted that Dede movie
Because that was going to be
The Moment

The moment when your success
Has reached the point
Where people can longer just envy you
They have to admire you

That's when your enemies
Start pretending they were friends with you
Back when you still had bad skin
And weighed three hundred pounds

That's when your ex's
Stop denying they've dated you
Stop talking shit about you
Stop saying 'You were a great guy, but...'
And start trying to get you back

That's when you can come back home
And walk around like a King
Have a parade in your honor
Have sex with everyone
You always wanted to have sex with
And get your ass kissed so many times
It has permanent lip marks on it

That's what happens
When you hit
The Moment

And I would have hit that moment
And I would have come back to Providence
And I would have cashed in all my chips

I would have gotten my teeth polished
Just so I could smile bigger
At all the assholes
I was going to walk by

But I did that interview
And they asked
They asked the question
'Are you--?'

And I thought

'Okay, sure, why not?'

Ricky Martin is gay
Rupert Everett is gay
Ian McKellen is gay
Why can't I be gay?

It didn't occur to me
That Ricky is a joke
Rupert doesn't work
And Ian is too old
For anyone to care

I just blurted out 'Yup!'
And thought that would be it
And I missed the Moment
I missed it completely

Now here I am
With this great script
This damn good role
That nobody wanted me to have
Back in a place
I said I would only come back to
Once I had passed
The Moment

I'm chasing the needle
Right into the haystack

Looking for redemption
Within the crime

Witnessing my own resurrection
Even as the ashes still cling to me

You like any of that?
Should I use that?
Do you have a pencil?
I should write all that down

I wrote this script one night
Drunk off my ass
Just angry, you know?

Just really angry

And suddenly I could write my own history
I could take people I knew
And make them characters
I could dictate who they were

When this movie comes out
I am never going to be able to come back here
Moment or no Moment

I'm done
That's it

I never thought I'd come back
But I thought the only thing worse
Would be coming back halfway

As a B-List star
As a talk show host
As a...writer

I'm familiar, but I'm not famous
And famous was the plan

Hey

Do me a favor
Think of the last thing you said
That began with the words--

'I will never...'

Now brace yourself

You will

You will do
Whatever it is
You said you'd never do

You'll do it

Believe me
You will

The Candy Store

She's got sparkles
Ooohh, just look at her sparkles
Sparkly little girl
Twirl around, lemme see
Hey Darnell, get the camera
For real, get the camera
Look at her with those sparkles

What do you want, baby?
Anything you want
You got
You got me?

Darnell, snap a photo
Pucker your lips, baby
Smile for the flash
Don't stash that smile away
Play with the camera
Make it your friend
Let's get it in one shot
I don't want to do this again

Oooh, she's so cute
Cute little thing
Pink earrings
And everything

Is she Asian?
Darnell, is she Asian?
I can't even tell, Darnell
But it doesn't matter
Those sparkles
Are going to shatter the lens
Don't even pretend they're not
Have you got it?
Have you?

Darnell?
Have you got it?

If we get this photo, baby
I'm going to take you to the candy store
That where you want to go?
You can pick any candy you want
Gumballs and yo-yo's
Load you up with M&M's
With the peanuts all up in 'em
Make 'em taste like butter
Wait for the shutter

Darnell
Snap it fast
Those sparkles are going
They won't last all day
Showing up on her face
Like angel dust
Not that kind of angel dust
My momma used to say
That tears on a beautiful woman
Is just Heaven's form of rust

She used to say that
Because she'd cry all the time
And I'd never know why
And soon enough
I didn't care

Pucker those lips, girl
Toss that hair
And we'll go the candy store
That where you want to go?
After we're done here
Then that's where we'll go
So no need to cry
You're going to mess up your eyes
And I wouldn't like that
Now would I?

Just smile like you're smiling
Darnell, keep snapping
Snap that shutter
Till it shuts
That photos gonna have guts
It's going to be something
We're all going to be something
When we see that photo
Ain't that something
The things you can capture
That you can lock into place

Sparkles
Like those
On a little girl's face

And after we're done
We're going to the candy store
'Cause that's the place
Ain't no place nicer
Than the candy store

So that's where we're going
Just us three
Just as soon
As she says 'Cheese'

The Boy Behind Me

There's a little boy behind me
He says he knows your name
He says you used to play
What did you play?
What did you play
With the little boy behind me?

What's his name?
Do you know his name?
He doesn't remember it
But he thought that you might
Would I be right in assuming
You've seen him before
Before I brought him up
Did he ever pop up
And make you stop
Stop what you were doing
Drop a glass
Drop a plate
Wait and see if he'd go away

I don't think he is
I don't think he's going away

There's a boy behind me
He's a little boy
A little boy
About eight years old
With pajamas on
And a teddy bear
Like Michael from 'Peter Pan'
Can you see him?
Because I can

He's behind me now
But he's not behind you
He'll be standing in front
Standing in your way
He was there yesterday
Wasn't he?

Well

He will be again
Is he your friend?
Did he used to be your friend?
Do you think you'll ever be able
To not see him again?
Because if you can
Maybe I can too

Friday, April 24, 2009

The Ugly Duckling

-- Influence #14: Cursing Swans  (or The Ugly Duckling)  --

"The Ugly Duckling"

Whoa
Look at all of you
Aren't y'all looking SURPRISED now?
What's the matter?
Never seen a swan before?

You know
It is sort of funny

At least
I think it's funny

That a bunch of ducks
Weren't aware
That I wasn't like them
That I wasn't just some duck
Some fucked up looking duck

But rather
A cygnet
Which is homely
Only until it grows up
To be one gorgeous fucking swan

Much better looking
Than some shallowass ducks
Who want to talk talk talk
Till their fucking beaks fall off
About how gross
The poor little cygnet is

Where you going, Roxanne?
I ain't done talkin' to you!
You swim right back over here, bitch
Because I am not a graceful person
I do not intend to take this victory
Gracefully

I intend to rub all your beaks
In my hot looking wings
And my smooth plumage
Get you all and bothered
And then roll away
Leaving you panting

PANTING!

Oh look!

That nature photographer
Is taking some shots of me
Doesn't seem to be interested
In all of you

Wonder why that is?

Maybe because all of you
Are butt ass ugly?
Could that be why?
Because you're just ducks
Because ducks ain't nothing special
Because I have bigger sexual organs than you?

Who knows?

I'll give him a little flap
He'll like that
That's what got me on the cover
Of Ranger Rick

Okay
Time to head out
Just wanted to stop by
And let y'all know
That my childhood fucking sucked
Because of you

And now I'm feathered equivalent
Of the Sistine Chapel

I'm a fantastic creature of God
And you're Disney cartoons

I'm the frosted flakes
In the beautiful cereal bowl
Of the great blue sky

And you're all loud
Honking
Fuckers

Who annoy the shit out of people
And get shot at for fun

Speaking of which...

-- BANG --

I better head out
I'm not too worried though
People are averse
To shooting swans

Drive By Donna's

-- Here's an idea. Take something you're ashamed about having done in the past, and turn it into a monologue done by some Italian guy named Mikey. --

"Drive By Donna's"

Hey
Do me a favor
Drive by Donna's
Tonight
Before you go home

I can't do it
I can't do it anymore
It's no good for me
So you gotta do it
Just make sure she's okay

Make sure her lights are off
It's almost three
She should be asleep
And if there's a jeep in the guest spot
Next to her car
Call me so I can go over there
And bust that fucker's windshield
Unless it's a blue jeep
That's her brother's
And sometimes he crashes on her couch

If she should happen to be awake
Watching late nite tv
Then snap a photo of her for me
Just use your camera phone
If she's all alone and crying
Trying not to miss me too much
Miss me like I miss her
I miss her so much
To see her one more time
God, she used to look fine in that black--

Never mind

If she's awake
Because she can't take
Sleeping alone
I need to own a photo
That shows it's so

I know it sounds crazy
I know I'm not healing
Feeling all these things
Making my boys go check on my girl
When there's a thousand others like her
Out in the world waiting to be found
Waiting to curl next to me
Be loyal to a fuck-up
Who fucks up like it's his career
But I don't want to hear that
I just want you
To drive by Donna's

Okay?

Drive by and make sure she's safe
Drive by and throw her a kiss from me
Drive by and be the lameass ex
That's really just me

Because if I go I'll park across the street
Needing to feel near to her
Wondering how I got so far
Far away from where I started
With a good woman
And a good life
And the knife'll go deeper in my heart
So deep I can't pull it out
And I might end up shouting for her
To come down and take me back...

...Again

So just do me a favor
And drive by Donna's
Drive by her place
While I stay here
Drink lousy beer and play pool
Staying cool while my head wishes
It was sitting next to hers
On that stupid frilly pillow set

See if there's a light on
See if she's keeping a light on
For me
Or if she's asleep
And then tell me

I shouldn't
But I need to
So I'm asking you to
Okay?

Just do me this favor
Just drive by once or twice
Be a nice friend
And that'll be the end of that
I promise

I'll keep a promise to you
That I can't keep to myself
Because you'll hold me to it
If I know you

Now hurry up
It's almost three
Go be the man
I thought I'd never be

Saturday, April 18, 2009

He's in Paris

It popped up on my feed
So innocent
So calm
As if it was no big deal

'Jeff is in Paris'

Oh really?
Is he?
Is he in Paris?

And at first
I didn't freak out
I was relaxed
I thought
Okay
Maybe...
Maybe he's in...

Paris...Texas?
Paris...Ohio?
Paris...Ontario?

You know
Somewhere not fun
Somewhere not romantic
Somewhere stupid
But no

No
No
No

Paris, Paris
Paris, France
That's where he is
He's in Paris

Jeff
My Jeff
Is in Paris

And he's with her
Oh, yes he is
I can't check
Because he defriended me
But I would bet good money
That if I could check
His status would say 'Relationship'
And it would say 'With Dumb Slut Whore'

'In a Relationship with Fake Tits and a Smile'

That's what it would say
That would be his status
And there would be some stupid photo of them
Smiling and laughing
At some bar
At some friend's birthday party
And on his wall
It would have a comment from her
Saying--

'Can't wait for Paris, babe.  Love you so much.  I'm a whore!'

He's in Paris
He's in fucking Paris
Why didn't I get to go to Paris?
I had to put up with his shit
And I didn't even GET Paris
I didn't even get Paris, Texas
I got nothing
And she gets Paris?
Are you fucking kidding me?

You know
I should call him
I should call him and say--

Hey Jeff
If I had known
Blowjobs would get me Paris
I would have treated your dick
Like a popsicle in July
Not to be crass
But seriously
I would have
For Paris

He knew
He KNEW
That I loved Paris
He knew that I wanted to be an artist
He knew that I dreamed of seeing the Eiffel Tower
He knew that was when I wanted to be proposed to

Maybe that's why he didn't take me
Maybe he didn't want to propose to me
Not to me anyway
Maybe...

Oh my God
Oh my God

Oh...
Oh no...

Is he going to...
No, no, no
No, he's not
He's not going to...
Not in Paris
Not in my Paris
Our Paris!

Even if we never
Technically
Went there

He can't do that
He wouldn't
He wouldn't do that
That would be too dick
Even for him

But why
Why then
Did he go to Paris?
Why did he take her?
Did he take her?
Maybe he didn't
Maybe I'm overthinking this
Maybe I should have killed him
When I had the chance

Oh God
Oh God, I promise
I promise I will do anything
I will do anything
If you do not force me
To live in a world
Where this could happen
To live a life
Where I am not even
The goddammed lead character
Where I am the punchline
In someone else's joke

Please, God
Please do not let that happen
Please let him be going alone
Please let it be business
Please let it be a turning thirty crisis
Please let it be anything
Anything but what I know it is

Please don't let it be that train
Coming down the tracks at me
But I know I can't stop that train
I saw it coming before
And I couldn't stop it then
And I can't stop it now

I couldn't stop him
From falling out of love with me
I couldn't stop him
From meeting her
And realizing he liked her more
I couldn't stop him
From leaving

And I can't stop this
And I can't stop crying
And I can't not care
But something needs to stop this

Please
Don't let him be in Paris
Let me have read that wrong
Let me be wrong
Let me know how it feels
To be wrong
I don't understand people
Who need to be right all the time
All I ever want to be
Is wrong

'Jeff is in Paris'

Well
Gosh
That's just great

And what about me?
Where am I?
What should I say?
Where should I say I am?

'I'm...I'm here.'

Yeah, I guess I am
I guess I'm here
I guess that works

Okay

We're Not Going to Sleep

We're not going to sleep
We're going to discuss
The philosophies we've both accrued
Delude ourselves
Into thinking we're in love
Shove each other into bed
Turning on our heads
Laughing at our hesitation
As temptation turns itself over
To the reactions we get
From giving ourselves over
To instant satisfaction
A gratification
All-expenses paid
Vacation

We're not going to sleep
We're going to watch television
Envisioning ourselves
Forty years from now
With great-grandkids
And kids beyond that
Sure of the fact
That we're not going to die
But rather learn to fly
Emerge with wings
And tails and things like that
Flattening ourselves against each other
Smothering our laughter into pillows
As Willow plays on the screen
And the line between awake and dreaming
Becomes more hard to discern
And I don't hear a drop of concern in your voice
When you ask me if I want to leave
As if I have a choice

We're not going to sleep
Even when it's four am
And the repeats air again
On the black and white
That we stayed up all night watching
Rewatching old movies
With Spencer and Kate
Dating ourselves without fear
Cause we're young and sincere
Careers moving onward and upward
Towards God-knows-what
But feeling that the door we've opened
Won't shut now that we found each other
One another's doorstop

God, don't stop

Keep going

I'm falling
I'm falling asleep

Keep touching me

Telling me

You'll be here
When I wake up

Because if there's a chance
Even a chance
That this dance will end
When the music stops
In the morning
Instead of continuing on
To the song in my head
Then I won't go to bed
And I won't go to sleep
And I'll keep my eyes open
And on you
Until you drift off first

Or we both can
We both can stay up
Holding each other
With intense glares
Staring contests
And arm wrestling
Just until we trust
That neither one
Is going to leave

We can try to relax
And softly leap
Or we can simply promise
That we're not going to sleep

Skinny Dipping with Pippin

They wanted a four-year-old
But when the mothers heard
There was nudity
That there would be female nudity
Not just shirtless guys
Like when the theater did Picnic
They forbade Lans Harbour
The director and producer
From using their children

'Why can't he do a nice show?'
One of them asked
'Like when they did "King and I"
My Sarah looked so pretty
Dressed up like a little Asian.'

I had just graduated high school
Where I had done several plays
All of them Shakespeare
But I had never sung
And never danced
And I had no idea
Whether I was even capable
Of doing either

'It doesn't matter'
Lans told me
When he corned me
At my summer job
Being a cashier
At Comp Stop

'You look young
That's what I need'

I maybe could have passed for fifteen
But certainly not a four-year-old
Still, Lans was determined
And since all my friends
Were preparing to move
While I would just be heading
To the local community college
I figured a two-to-three night commitment
Wouldn't be so bad

And that was how I got the role
I was in my first musical
Playing a child
And sometimes
More than playing

- - - - -

I didn't have to show up
Until everyone else
Had already been rehearsing
For a few weeks

I wouldn't be in the ensemble
Since I couldn't dance or sing
I was playing Theo, the little boy
And only Theo, the little boy

That first rehearsal
Was strictly to block my scene
It would be me
My stage mother
And the guy playing Pippin
A forty-year-old
Who looked like my father

I didn't talk to him much
Actually, none of this
I would later learn
That being the lead
Can sometimes
Be a lonely opportunity

The girl playing my mother
Was a twenty-two year old
Named Emily Barker
Who took one look at me
And said I had a nice ass

I hadn't quite recovered
Before she followed that up with--

'And you're gay, right?'

It wasn't as much of a question
As it sounded
She nodded as she said it
So that I nodded too
And that was that

I was gay
And I had a nice ass

To this day
I believe that to be the purpose
Of people like Emily Barker
They're Namers
They name things

Emily would go on
To name the rest of the cast
Almost as if she were recasting them
In their proper roles

Myra was dubbed 'Damaged/Darling'
Krista was christened 'Snob/Slut'
Jason became 'Cute/Cocky'
George got labeled 'Funny/Fucked Up'
But Braden
Braden only got one name
No slash
No hyphen
Just one single word

'Amazing'

- - - - -

I walked into rehearsal
While they were blocking 'Glory'
I sat in the back of the dance studio
In a row of empty folding chairs
And instantly failed
At looking like I belonged there

Braden was dead on the floor
He had the most gorgeous dead body
I've ever seen in my life
And I was completely envious
Of the fake sword sticking out of it
And whoever it was that got to
Drive it into him

Lans called for a break
Prompting Braden to grab Krista
Pull her on top of him
And then roll so that he was lying on her
Tickling her the entire time
While she screamed
In what can only be described
As a mix of agony and elation

Nobody else was paying any attention
George said something to Jason
Who nodded in agreement
It seemed like they were having
A technical discussion
Like two mechanics

'Yup, the step-hop-step isn't work.'
'Nope, gotta work on that.'
'Shit.'
'Yup.'

Great
Now there was slang
I had to learn too

Myra was talking with Lans
Smiling and touching his shoulder
Every chance she got
For absolutely no reason

'Oh my God! Do you know--'
Shoulder touch
'--Who my favorite was? Daryll!'
Shoulder touch
'He was just...'
Shoulder touch
'...You know?'
Head tilt, shoulder touch

'Hey!'

My eyes shot over to Emily
Who had just walked in
She smiled and waved
Then looked at Braden
While motioning to me

'Guess what Braden?
You're not the only soup spoon
In the utensil drawer anymore.'

That was when
And I kid you not
I fell off my folding chair

- - - - -

After rehearsal
During which I avoided eye contact
As if I had just served on a jury
And found the entire cast guilty
Lans gave some notes
And I got one of my own
From Emily
Who slipped it into my hand

'Pool Party @ Damaged After Notes.
You're coming.'

Myra lived in a mansion
Up on the other side
Of Park Allen
Where the college professors live

Her driveway
Was long and winding
And you came up on her house
As if it were a clearing in the woods
Which it pretty much was

Myra answered the door
Wearing a two-piece
And one of those robes
That slutty mothers
On bad television teen dramas wear
When they're seducing
Their daughters' boyfriends

'Oliver! Heyyy! So glad you could come!
Don't you love the robe? It's my mom's.
Do you drink?'

I had to remind her
That I was only seventeen

'Oh God, all I did at seventeen was drink.
I'll make you something special.
A Myra, okay? We'll call it a Myra.
It'll be our thing.'

She disappeared into the house
I wandered through a few rooms
Following the sound of laughter
And splashing
Until I made it outside
To where the pool was

That was when I saw him
Braden
Standing on the diving board
Naked

He waved at me
As if nothing was amiss
As if it's no big deal to be naked
As if you're just born that way

It took me a minute
To realize he wasn't the only one
Krista was wrapped around Jason
Floating in the deep end
Wrapped around each other
Like one big naked pretzel

In the shallow end
The man playing Pippin
Who I found out was named Ira
Was leaning against the wall
Sipping on some sort of drink

His body was actually pretty decent
For an old guy
And he was wearing sunglasses
So he looked sort of cool
Or at least
That's how I remember him

Myra came out
Handed me my drink
And then dove into the pool
She splashed some water at Ira
And he grabbed her
Buried his face in her boobs
Until she screamed with laughter
And grabbed his...junk
Then he let her go
And she floated over to Jason and Krista
Who didn't seem too inviting

'Afraid to get naked in front of your mother?'

I turned around
And saw Emily approaching
She was the only one
Aside from me
Not in the pool

'Did Myra make you a Myra?
She's so retarded with those Myras.
It's like vodka and lemonade
That's not a Myra
She goes to Wagner, and thinks she's the shit.
I could have gotten into Wagner
But I felt like getting fucked in college
And not by confused homosexuals.
No offense.'

She took my drink
Downed it
And tossed her hair back
For absolutely no reason

'She wants to fuck Ira so bad.
But he's spoken for, as they say.'

Who says that?

'Krista and Jason are fucking, too.
Myra would fuck Jason, but she knows--'

I looked over
And saw Krista and Jason
Trying to paddle away
From Myra
Who was trying to splash water on them

'--She knows he's sooo out of her league.'

These people were in their twenties?
Does high school ever end?
I was concerned

'As for George--'

I looked around
But couldn't find George

'We don't invite him anywhere.
He's super funny
But he gets mad when nobody flirt with him.
It's so frustrating.
You're the fat funny guy, George.
That's what I really would love to say to him.
You're the fat funny guy. Embrace it.
One day when you get famous
You can have any woman you want
But until then, you're fucked.
Or not, whatever.
Anyway!
Into the pool!'

Without hesitation
She threw me into the pool

I fell in with all my clothes on
And not gracefully

When my head emerged from the water
I heard everybody laughing
And I considered staying under
Until watery death took me from the earth

Then I felt a hand on my shoulder

'Nice dive, Ollie.'

I hate the name Ollie
But when I turned
And saw Braden
Smiling at me
Ollie became my new favorite proper noun

'I...sometimes...yes'

Okay, then

'Wouldn't it be easier if you lost some clothes?'

I wanted nothing more
Than to be naked
With this man
But not in a pool
Surrounded by lunatics

'C'mon, it's exhilarating.'

I didn't know what that meant
I mean, I did
But I'd never felt it
I never felt exhilaration
I thought that was something
Only a Mustang could feel
Or a parachuter

Slowly I took off my shirt
Then my pants
Admittedly
The boxers came off the fastest
Because they had shamrocks on them
And there was no time to linger

Braden applauded my nudity
And was followed by everyone else

'Way to go, Theo,' Emily yelled 'That's why little slut-in-training.'

Braden took my hands
And started guiding me around the pool
It was cold
Of course
Because God hates me
But I tried not to look down at myself
Or down at him
I just stared straight
Into his beautiful green eyes

We started talking
About where I was going to college
About where he went--BC
About his ex-boyfriend--psycho
About Emily--off her meds

'You should come visit me in Boston, Ollie
You'd love it there.'

He didn't even know me
But he was right
I would have loved Boston
I would have loved anywhere
That he was

I would have loved Beirut
I would have loved Bosnia
I would have loved the Gobi Desert
I would have loved the bottom of that pool
If he and I could sink down into it
And never come up again
In our own little Atlantis

'Hate to break up your party'

We had turned around
And run smack into Ira

He put his hands on the small of Braden's back
And guided him around so that they were facing each other
And gave him the biggest
Most disgusting kiss
I have ever seen

'Awwww,' I heard Myra exclaim, 'So cute'

Cute?
Cute?
One of them was in his twenties
And the other fought in World War I
How would them kissing
Have been cute???

I floated away
Somewhat in horror
And Braden didn't even notice
The broken pieces of my heart
Floated around me
Like water lilies
Or river pollution

I floated right into Krista and Jason

'Hey,' Jason said, 'You're cute'
'Totally cute,' Krista echoed
'Do you want to make out?'

Great
Swingers
I'd heard about them
My sister is into 70's culture

'Sure,' I said, 'Why not?'

Eight hours later
I woke up in Myra's guest room
To the sound of her crying
In her bathroom

Apparently
At each of her pool parties
She goes into the bathroom
And cries until someone finds her
Which in this case
Was me
After she'd been in there
For a good four hours

Krista and Jason were where I had left them
Snuggling together on the couch
I didn't want to think about what I'd done
But I knew that at one point
I had become a part of their pretzel

Ira had taken Braden back to their house
Apparently they lived together
In the house Ira lived in with his wife
Before she left him
One of his teenage daughters was still there
And she and Braden would often go shopping together

Emily explained all this to me
When she came into my room
In the middle of the night
Really drunk

She also told me about her eating disorder
Her lesbian dalliances
Myra's crush on Lans
And how she'd love to play Maria
In 'The Sound of Music'
But she won't
Because people inexplicably hate her

In the morning
While I was cleaning off Myra
The phone rang

'Shit,' she said, 'I think we had rehearsal today.'

Terrific

- - - - -

When we got to the auditorium
Lans didn't look mad
He looked devastated
I remember thinking
We're just late
It's not like we...

But then I remembered
Everything everyone had done
And I wondered if he could
Turn us into the police

'Guys, George was in an accident last night'

He had found out about the party
He found out
And he knew
That not only was he not invited
He would never be invited
And the new kid
The one nobody even knew
Got invited
And he didn't

George took his car
And aimed for a tree

'So...you, uh, you can...you can all go home'

The show was canceled
Nobody asked why
Emily sat there
Not saying a word
While Myra did the opposite
Falling on the floor
And pounding the carpeting

Krista got up and left
Jason followed after her
Neither said anything to me

Ira and Braden
Offered me a ride home
But I said I'd walk
I wanted to walk

- - - - -

That fall
I started school
And I saw an audition posting
For some musical
That I had never heard of

I showed up at the audition
And when the director asked me
If I'd ever done a show before
I said 'No, never'

And I sang my song

Wednesday, April 15, 2009

And When We're Bored We Dance

--  Influence #13:  The Lower Depths --

We eat eight times a day
Small meals
Big tickets
Big ticket items
Like tvs we found outside
The ivy league college
On moving day

When the rich kids
Head back to Barcelona
Macedonia, wherever
They go

We hook up the tvs
Sit on the found couches
Slouch down on office chairs
Oak desks now used
For Scrabble tournaments
Adorning doorways
With taxidermied stingrays
Praying for a day
When we can afford
To buy our own
Even if it's of a lesser quality

And when we're bored
We dance

We have sex two or three times
Whenever the mood strikes
We cross halls
Bang on walls
Letting the neighbors know
Their adultery's showing
Growing into porn stars
Slowly turning dirty
Flirty transformed into something
Something else
Then pelting each other
With bad names
Accusing insensitivity
Naivet'e braying
Laying down on mattresses
Without the sheets
Beating our heads
Against our bed boards
Hoarding snack food
Binging and cringing
Until we can get a new mood

And when we're bored
We dance

We're students
At state schools
Broke and joking
About being broke
Toking two times
Before class
Crass assertions
About our professors
Who profess while they digress
That we should be in
Better schools
Then where they teach

We're waiters
At restaurants
Where we can't afford
To eat

We're actors
Hauling ass into Boston
Lost in traffic
At three pm
Making our way
To an audition
For a tour of a show
That we're too old
To be in

We're twenty-somethings
Verging on thirty-somethings
Something funny
About the way you feel
When you peal twenty
From your body

We're vagabonds
We're ragamuffins
We're tramps
We're scum
We're heart breakers
We're indecisive
About what we are

And when we're bored
We dance

We measure our pleasure
By the amount of leisure
We can ensure for ourselves
Shelving our books
Into every nook
Under every floorboard

We read David Foster Wallace
Pass him around
Like a communal plate
Hating our lack of genius
And our negated potential
Mentioning to each other
How we'd smother one another
If mass suicide was decided upon
If we were a cult
And not living across
From a neon wonderland
Called 'Buy-A-Bunch'

We lunch with our parents
Who want us to grow up
And go to the ivy leagues
From whence we fence
Our Scrabble desks

They buy us salmon
Demanding that we plan
That we consider the future
And let go of the past
And we last long enough
To make it to dessert
Then desert them
At the table
Remembering that we needed
Money for the cable bill

We come home in July
Sit in cold showers
Staring out the bathroom window
Across the city
At the Section 8 tower
We know we'll wind up in
When our little dustbin
Is finally condemned

Some of us will move
Some of us will scatter
Some of us will shatter
And the latter will not
Be able to stick to anything
Live anywhere
That doesn't look like here

They'll get stuck
In the here and now
Fearing their next years
Until their tomorrows
Turn into untamed phobias

But until all that happens
We dance

We get bored
We get laid
We get fucked
We get stoned

And we're here
We're with family
And we're here
We're alone

And the music lingers
And sometimes it pounds
But it's around us
Like water around a drowning man
Or a blanket around someone cold

And we're old
And we're educated
And there's food
And there's boredom

And when we're bored
And we're always bored
And when we're bored
And we're tired
And we're always tired
And we're scared
And it's fun
And it's scary how fun it is
Because it burns out on impact
Like anything
That just can't last

And we dance
And we dance
And we dance

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Bed Hopper

--  Influence #12:  This is going to have to be my pop music influence.  Silly, relating to sex, and an abundance of unexplained attitude.  Here's hoping anyway. --

Johnny's going to sleep with Sam tonight
Just don't tell Steve I said
Johnny's going to text and say he's sleepy
Then sleep in Sammy's bed
And nobody's going to call him out on it
Nobody's going to say
He's full of shit

Nobody's going to say anything
Everyone's just going to laugh
And talk and chat and mock and scoff
And it doesn't seem absurd
Because Johnny does whatever Johnny wants
And nobody says a word

Hey Bed Hopper
Whose bed are you tonight?
What do you tell all the boys
When you're tucking them in at night
What do you tell the heartbroken
When you're breaking them up
What do you say
To the poor little gay
Who let you in his life?

Don't want to hurt you, honey
I'm going to be leaving soon
Don't want to leave you high and dry
I'm not good enough for you
I've got so much going on in my head
I can't wind up back in your bed
Please remember what I've said
Sorry Steve I gotta go

Johnny's going to sleep with Chris tonight
Don't tell Sam, okay?
He may have liked him yesterday
But today's another day

The shine's worn off
His Sammy doll
Now it's time to throw him out
He'd do it much more publicly
But that's not what John's about

He'll let him cry
He'll hold his hand
He'll hand him tissues
Till he understands

That Johnny's gotta go
Chris is waiting
Anticipating Johnny's body
Pressed up against him in bed
Red sheets
With red hearts
Red lights
All night
And Chris can't wait to start

So what do you say
Bed Hopper
How do you deal with Sam?
Kiss his forehead
Wipe away his tears
And hope he understands

You know you've meant so much to me
You know you've changed my life
I don't want to leave
But I have to leave
It would be wrong to stay the night

Johnny's going to sleep with Mark tonight
But don't you say a word
Chris would die
So you need to lie
And say you haven't heard

Mark was wearing that shirt tonight
And it caught Johnny's eye
You can't really blame him
Can you?
After all
He's just a guy

Mark got a text from Johnny
Saying 'Leave your door unlocked'
Johnny doesn't like that Chris gained weight
And now Mark's ready to rock

Chris, you're such a sweetheart
Chris, you're a great guy
I bet Sammy would love to have you
But for you and me
It's good-bye

Bed Hopper, boy oh boy
The boys are wising up
It's no surprise
They catch your eyes
But now they're catching up

Mark wouldn't return your texts
And you'd already talked with Chris
Sammy's dating Jordan now
And Steve just wants to kiss

Bed Hopper
What do you know
Now you're the one
Sleeping alone

Bed Hopper
You just hopped
Without looking
Where you'd land

You wound up
Falling right on through
But why are we bothering telling you
We're sure you understand

Monday, April 13, 2009

Raffaela on the Couch

Can you do me a favor?
Can you put some raspberries in a bowl
Pour whipped cream on them
And then feed them to me?
I'm so depleted

I really am
I'm exhausted
Rog, I'm dying
I'm dying inside
This job
It's...ugh
Kill me

Can you do me a favor?
Did you tape ATWT for me?
Did you?
Did you remember to?
Tell me you did
Thank God
I'd die
I'd die if you didn't
I've been craving my ATWT
Alllllllll dayyyyyyy
Ri-dick how much I love it
Ri-dick, Rog

I'm not getting off this couch
I'm getting my dress wrinkled
But that's okay
I shouldn't have worn it to work
Those fuckers don't deserve it
They don't deserve to see me look so good
The twins eye-fucked me today
Does that make you jealous?
As my male roommate who desires me
Does that irk you in any way?

Rog, don't be mad
Is that why you're in the kitchen?
Are you mad?
Is that it?
The raspberries?
Oh, right
Those
So that's why you're in there?
Not because you're fuming
Because I so wouldn't fuck the twins
I flirt with them because it gives me stuff to do
While I'm work
But I wouldn't really do stuff with them
I just like that they're twins
And that they both want me

One of them
I don't know which
Got me in the copy room
And was so awkward
Told some stupid joke
It was weird
I giggled or something
And then ran out

Thank God for this couch
It's so comforting
I love that you put a patch on it
Like it was damaged
Even though it wasn't
It makes it look so homey

Rog, are you going out with that girl again?
I disapprove of that relationship
And you shouldn't be dating girls
When you lust after another
You'll break her heart
When you finally push hard enough
And I give into your advances

Don't put the raspberries in the blue bowl
They look weird in that bowl
Put them in the red bowl
Then everything will be red
Except for my dress
Which is green
Green and red are okay though
Like Christmas
Which is lovely

Everyone on ATWT is gorgeous
Have you noticed that?
Do you watch while you're taping?
You should
Then we'd have something to talk about
When I come home from work

That's the reason we don't talk
Because we have nothing to speak of
So we need convo topics
I made a list at work the other day
A list of things we could discuss
When I come home from Hell everyday
But I lost the list
It had some quality stuff on it though
I'm amazing at making lists
I wish you could do that for a living

Guess who else eye-fucked me today?
That lesbian girl who serves me coffee
She gave it to me good
Let me tell you
I walked away with a limp
After that little exchange
I shouldn't lead her on
But I sort of do
I imply that I like women
By mentioning ex-girlfriends
And not specifying that they were just friends

But I get free coffee out of it
And I'm really hard up for cash
Because somebody is behind on their rent
Not to guilt-trip or anything
Just mentally Post-It note that, okay?
Because I really can't afford any budgetary lapses
On the part of anyone in my life
This dress costs sooooooo much
But it was totes worth it
Because of all the eye-fucking
Which leads to the free coffee
And the self-esteem boosts

Why aren't you back from the kitchen yet?
Did you go out the window again
Why do you do that so often?
Why not just leave through the front door?
It's impolite to leave
Before giving your roommate
Who you secretly love
A kiss good-bye

Did you know that, Rog?
And what about the--
Yeah, you're not there

Oh well

I'm not getting up
So it's going to be cold in here
When you get home
From your little fuckfest of a date
And that'll be your fault
Because I said I wasn't getting up
And you left the window open
And if I freeze to death
It'll totally be on your head

And you don't deal well with guilt
That I know for a fact, stud
That I know
For a fact

Dynamic, or A Black Shirt

He's going to wear a black shirt
With his arms crossed
Lost in a sea of thoughts
That don't remain in one place
Gracing old park benches
Mentioning his bad taste
While you--

Sit and stare at him
Not reading your book
Looking over at the woman
Looking at him too
Thinking--

He's dynamic
With a manic stare
Dare you catch you gaze
Could you phase him with a smile
Or a turn of the page
Engage yourself
In an open-ended eye catch
Snatch his attention
Right out of that sea
So you can see his black shirt
Soaked through
With the chance of you

He's for you
He's all for you
He's dynamic

Is he what they mean
When they call hair 'tussled?'
Is he who they mean
When they refer to muscle
Bulging through a persona
Not just a piece of clothing
Loaning character to fabric
You'd be mad to not notice it
Shit, he looks good in it
But is it--

Just the black shirt
Or is that he's
Dynamic
Is it the--
Dynamic?

It's not a matter of chemistry
Physically he's okay
But hey
Who's the last person
Who turned your head
That didn't roll out of bed
And roll out of your life
Stroll back to their wife
Not nice enough
To spend the night

It's not a question of setting
But you're betting this is it
Cause you never come here
And you never sit still
And you never would have noticed him
Except for the trees
Leaning in his direction
Providing connection
Though the weather looks dark
What better place to meet up
Than on a Sunday, in a park

With you in your blue shirt
And him in his black
Back on track after a break
That makes you sort of suspicious
About delicious individuals
Surreptitiously strolling by
Under a nasty looking sky
Do you trust the timing
Or barometric pressure
Does it matter if it rains
The first time you're together?

Is the crackling in the air
The red flag from the gods
Should you dodge him and delete him
Complete your day with baked goods
And a movie night at home
Alone, again

But so what on a Sunday?
Sunday's not a good day
To wear a black anyway
Shouldn't you be alert
Of men in dark shirts
Skirt their appearances
But is it wrong to just flirt
Can you taste it
And run
Just for fun

Or maybe the question is
Can you not?
Blot out the crackling
Cause it's probably just rain
Pain's gone for the moment
Don't invite it in again

But before you know it
You marked your page
Closed the book
Shot a look
And jumped up to say 'Hey'

You can say nay to the muscles
And the tussle
And the trees
But the dynamics
And the fact
That his face
Creates a panoramic view

Of the next three weeks
Weak and tired
Of trying to fight it
You're going to wind up
Lighting his cigarette
Betting you can take him
Break under his body
Naughty thoughts for a Sunday

But hey
When you friends ask
Just say--

He's dynamic

It all came down
To dynamics

Dede's Theory of Fame

So here's my theory on fame:
I always knew
That all I had to do
Was become famous enough

Enough, you know?

For example
There's theater here, right?
In Rhode Island?
I thought I saw a theater
But you never know

I'm not trying to talk down to you or anything
I just--

Never mind

Let's just use this as an example

Do you realize
That I'm really
Not that famous?

No
It's okay
I'm not
And I know that
And that's okay with me

I never set out to be Christina Marks
Or anything
That wasn't my goal

My goal was to be
Famous

...Enough

Do you see what I mean?

I've done a few movies
Never had a starring role
All the blockbusters
Were, um, ensemble pieces
I guess you would say

You can't really take credit for a move making a hundred million dollars
When it's about giant lizards taking over New York

You kinda have to give the giant lizards their due, you know what I mean?

But I am known
You know?

I would fall
I'd say
On the B-Minus list
Maybe 'B'
Yeah, I guess--

Okay, yeah--I'm on the 'B' list

I mean, my grandmother wouldn't know me
If I wasn't her granddaughter
Because I'm not big enough to be in the tabloids
But she knows who Christina Marks is

I mean, she thinks Christina's a slut
Because of the whole girl-kiss thing
But still, she knows who she is

Christina is A-list

Now
I have friends on the A-list
Lots of friends
Because I do movies with these people
Because I'm the go-to funny girl
Which is fine
That's what I want

But unless I'm with those people
I'm not getting into anywhere trendy

I'm not making demands
About the kind of projects I want to do

I'm not getting on the front page
Of Entertainment Weekly

None of that happens for me

But I work
And I work consistently
And I never get hounded by photographers
And I make great money
So that's all cool

But what's even cooler
Is that I'm famous enough
So that if I wanted to come here
To Providence, let's say
And go to one of your theaters

Um
Name a theater
Go ahead
Can you name one?
Oh

The one you work at?
You work at a--?

You act?

Oh my God
That's--

This is perfect then

Wow, you're really going to appreciate this then

You would admit
Wouldn't you
That if I called up, um--

The Artistic Director

Of your theater

And told him
That I wanted to be the lead
In a show
But I would have to pick the show
And be in complete control
And do whatever I want
And be a total bitch

He would let me

Right?

Of course he would

Because I'm in movies
Because I'm famous...enough

Because regardless of whether or not he or she thought I was a good actress
They would have to recognize that having me in a play
At their theater
Would make a lot of money
Because people who loathe theater
Would come out of the woodwork
To see somebody
In 'Three Sisters'
Just because she had three lines
In 'Reptilia 2:  Attack on New York'

It's all about circles, you know?

It's about the circles you're in
And where those circles are
And what is required of the people in those circles
And when you think about it
How messed up is that?

That success is so relative, you know?

Because you're probably a great actress
You're probably better than me, right?
Would you say you're a good actress?
You would, right?
But you couldn't call your boss
And say, um
'Let me do whatever I want'

Because here
He's a big deal
He's a bigger deal than you
And you're bigger than some people

Community theater people
College theater majors
People like that

There's a drag queen I saw tonight
At this club downtown
And you're probably bigger than her--maybe

So that's something
It's not nothing
But, um

In the grand scheme of things
You go to L.A.
And I trounce you
I mean, I destroy you
Just because of where it is
That you're famous

I see it all the time
Because I used to do theater
And I was pretty big in New York
I got nominated for awards
The whole thing

But when I called the theater
In the town I used to live in
This little regional place
Not even a big deal
Not at all

Like fifty folding chairs
And a piano, you know?

I was like--

'Hey! I want to come back!
I want to do a show there!'

And the guy who ran the place
Really hated me
I mean, he hated my guts
And he actually
I'm not kidding

He said 'No'

Here I was
I was famous
In New York
I really was
In theater circles, you know?

I might have been on a magazine or something
Or online, on some website
But still, you know, bigger than him at that point
In a better, bigger circle, and notable in that circle

But what I didn't understand
Is that I wasn't famous...enough
I could walk into some piano bar
In the Village
And get treated like a queen
But back where I was from
I was still nothing

It wasn't enough

So I gave it all up
I went to L.A.
And I was REALLY nothing
I mean, I was less than nothing there
The fact that I did theater?
It was like--

Like I was a first grader applying to grad school

I had people outright laugh at me
I mean, they tell you people are going to laugh at you
But you think it's an expression
And, it's really not
They laugh

They really laugh

Then things started picking up
I got a sitcom
It got canceled after, like, an hour
But it was still a sitcom
It was still bigger than a Broadway show
Running for three years
Because it was on television

More people saw the two episodes of that show that they aired
Than all the people who saw all the hit plays I was ever in combined

Then I started getting movies
And when I did this movie
Ironically, with Christina Marks
I got a phone call
From that theater
Back in my hometown
They wanted to bring me in
And have me do a show

And when I asked
How the guy running it felt
Felt about that
They said they let him go
When they found out
That he had turned me down
The first time
Even though chances are
They totally knew he did that
But they didn't care
Because at the time
I still wasn't famous...enough

I didn't do the show
Because what was the point?
I wanted to get back at the guy
That was all I wanted

Without him
What was the point?

But it's good to know
That I've gotten there
That I'm famous enough
Just enough
To make demands
To drop in on some little place
Like this, you know?
And have people treat me like, you know
Like I'm somebody

Like I'm impressive, you know?

There's nothing better than that
That's what you should strive for
Don't strive to be famous or anything
Just famous enough to have people look at you like that

Because people who are really are--
Like, famous people, they're--

They're messed up
They're really messed up

Saturday, April 11, 2009

Bless This Break-Up

Bless this break-up

Bless the broken things
That I threw at his head
Which shattered into shards
On the hardwood floors

Bless the pets
We didn't buy
That we looked at in stores
Please put them in better homes
Than the one we would have given them

Bless his cologne
May it not dissipate completely
Until I have moved past
Needing to smell him
On my pillow
To go to sleep at night

Bless his family
Who loved me
Like I was one of their own
Though the reason their grown son
Acts the way he does
Is because they spoil him so

Bless the robe
That wraps around me
When I don't have the strength
To put on anything else

Bless mindless television
Bless endless distraction
Bless boundless grief
Bless the loss

It has reminded me
That I am not immune
To progress

Bless the absence of sex
It has taught me
To be aware
That my body has needs
I was not aware of
Until now

Bless the grocery store cashier
Who checked out my breasts
Four times
While he was checking out
My yogurt

Bless my mother
Who calls everyday
To nag at me
About my hair
And what I'm doing with myself
And when I'm going to start dating again

Bless this insane woman
Who drives me crazy
So that I may yell at her
Thereby releasing my frustation

Bless my guy friends
Who call me beautiful
When I haven't shaved my legs
And I feel the pounds coming on

Bless my girl friends
Who drink wine with me
Who whine with me
Who dine me at fancy restaurants
And won't even let me see the check

Bless Saturday Night Live
Bless reruns of 'I Love Lucy'
Bless Oprah, on certain days
Bless Stevie Knicks, every day

Bless me
Bless him
Bless us

Because we're both broken
Even if one of us
Has ceased looking for the pieces
Because it's either pointless
Or too painful
Either way
Bless us

Bless the man I started with
Wherever he may be
Let him find his way back
To the man I ended with

Bless hindsight
May I have much of it
Bless humor
May I have more of it
Bless happiness
May I know
That it is
At least
Possible

Bless this break-up
For a blessing is something
That should be needed

Not a well-prepared meal
Not a wedding
Not a walk on the beach

Those things
Are already
Inherently
Bless

No

Bless this thing

This thing
That is so hard
That is so raw
That is so damaged

Bless it
And in doing so
Say that it is necessary
But it will be also
Go away
One day

Bless this break-up
Take this storm
And calm it

Nikao Brody

Okay, you see that one?

The one with the alligator?
I was in the original

Did you see the original?
Piece of shit

Made something like
Eight billion dollars
You know why?

Because the alligator talked

No shit

The alligator talks

That makes it a family film
Forget that in the end
He eats the fucking villain

And this wasn't like
A serial killer villain
This was like
Fucking Snidely Whiplash

Like Boris and Natasha villain
And the fucking alligator
Eats the guy
 Because he twirled his mustache
One too many times

And me and the girl in the movie
Who I fucked
By the way
Before she won the Oscar
For that war movie
About that girl soldier
Who died honorably
Or some shit

She and I are standing there
Laughing
As the talking alligator
Licks his lips
And parents
Were taking their fucking kids
To this movie
To like
Fucking matinees
Of this movie
And they thought it was fine

A year later
I do a movie
Where a girl shows her tits
And all of a sudden
I'm a bad guy

I do demeaning movies
Movies that demean women
Degrading pieces of trash
That have no artistic value
Religious people
Now hate me

Keep in mind
The fucking alligator
Ate the guy
Ate him the fuck up
Licked his lips
Yummy yummy

They make eight sequels
They all make money
I'm not in any of them
Because after three
The fucking alligator
Had run out of things to say to me
So they replaced me
With a cartoon guy
And some talking frog
And I mean
Can I ask you something?

Why wouldn't the alligator
Eat the frog?

Because he talks?
He feels some kinship
With the talking frog maybe?
But the guy could talk
And he still ate him
Do you see what I'm saying?
You got me?
Yeah, you got me

Jesus...

Paradox
I'm talking about a paradox
There's a paradox here
That the public
Doesn't see

Okay, that poster?
The one for the rom-com
Romantic comedy
We call it rom-com

See, now you know a term
A real business term
A term we use
In the business
Rom-Com
Yeah, you got me

I was supposed to be in that
It's good to do movies like that
Keeps your demographics in line
Ladies like you
Ladies have money
You need to seem approachable

And I needed to do some damage control
After making that tits movie
So I sign up
To do this bullshit
Learn-how-to-love character
Named something like Scott
Or fucking Ryan
Some gayass name like that

I meet up with my co-star
The lovely girl on the poster
We do a little photo shoot together
Cause, you know
Us on-screen together
Kind of a thing
And the studio wants us on the cover
Of Happy Hearts magazine or some shit
You got me?
Yeah, you got me

So we do this photo shoot
Afterwards we go out to eat
And people are taking photos
And I'm thinking--
Great
Now everybody's going to think
That I'm dating this bitch
When I'm not
And most guys would love to date her
But she's not my type
And I don't want girls that ARE my type
Thinking THIS girl is my type
Because then the girls I want
Won't bother talking to me
And once you've been labeled
You've been labeled
Kiss a dude, you're a fag
Kiss a prude, you're stuck with prudes
Kiss this bitch, and I can kiss my type good-bye

So she brings it up
She actually brings it the fuck up
And says like
Now people are going to think we're hee hee hee--
And she's smiling
Like she likes the idea
Which she probably does
Because why wouldn't she
You know?
I was on People fucking magazine
Hottest Guy Alive two years in a row

You know when that happens?
Never

Neh-ver

She wanted a taste
I could tell

So there was only one thing to do

There's only one thing to do
When a girl looks at you that way
And keep in mind
I got to work with this girl
For the next few months
And then the press junkets
And the premieres
Plenty of time
For her to hang her fucking halo on me
And dub me her soulmate
And that shit gets messy

So what do I do?

I fuck her

I fuck her and never call
The next time I planned on seeing her
Was the first day of shooting
That way, I figure
She'll hate my guts
She'll get over it
And we can work together

That's how I think
You get me?
Yeah, you got me

She calls the producers
The next morning
Like, still in her robe
She finds me gone
And she CALLS the PRODUCERS
Tells them she can't do the movie with me
She's traumatized
She tossed the 'R' word around
Except she says I did it psychologically
I psychologically 'R'ed her
Right?
Can you believe that?
I wish I could have gone public with that shit
The fucking tit-squad would have sank that bitch
But instead
I had to keep quiet
Because you never know
You know?
Those kind of things
They're powder kegs

So the producers
They make the call
She's a better bet
In terms of rom-coms
Bringing in audience for it
And she won't work with me
So they replace with me
With that fucking fag on the poster
Probably just wiped the cum off his mouth
Before they snapped the photo
I bet him and the bitch were just thick as thieves
The whole damn time
They were making the movie
And I don't even care
You know why?

Because they're opening
Against the talking alligator

Yup

Good luck with that, cocktease
Get ready to be psychologically
Financially
And professionally
Bent over and done doggie style
By a giant talking alligator
A cartoon fisherman
And a frog
So you see why I'm not mad?
Yeah, you got me

I used to love going to the movies
Every time I had a day off
I'd go to the movies
And the thing I loved most
Was looking at all the posters
All the good stuff that was coming up
It was like checking out girls in a bar
You never knew what was going to be good
And what was going to suck
But when you're first looking
Everything's exciting

So here I am
Day off
No shooting on-set today
Making a touchy-feely
Bullshit indie movie
Written by some fag
Who used to live a mile from here
So what does he do?

He sets the whole damn movie in Providence
And the critics are going to run out of vaseline
Jerking off to this thing
Because it's so tender

And I'll probably win an Oscar
Because I cry at the end of it
And they'll just love that shit

Meanwhile I'm stuck
A mile from the middle of nowhere
And so what do I do?
I go to see a movie

I'm going to get my popcorn
I'm going to get my licorice
I'm going to sit back
And I'm going to watch a movie
And it's just going to be a movie

I might love it
I might hate it
I don't know

And you want to know something?
That stuff
The stuff you don't know
The stuff behind those posters
Are always better than the movie

That's what you find out
When you start working
That no movie is as good
As the shit behind it
That's the shit you should sit down
And pay to watch

And now it's all flipped for me
Now I know that stuff
But I can't enjoy the movies
I can't just sit there
And not pick them apart

Say--That guy's really an asshole
Or--That girl thinks she's a fucking princess in real life
You know what I mean?
Yeah, you got me

But until I sit down
With my popcorn
And my licorice
I don't know
I really don't

Maybe someday
Something will be so good
I won't care about that other shit

And that's the exciting part
The shit you don't know
That's exciting
You know what I mean?

Yeah, you got me