-- Inspired by a line from "Further Adventures in the Restless Universe" by Dawn Raffel --
The world begins here
When you first ask if what you have is
Better than what others have where
You have never traveled, past the
Places you consider to be your world
Here is the world begins
But what else begins
You look around here
Taking in your new world
Wondering if this is
The place you meant to go to, the
Right kind of where
But is this where
Happiness begins?
Is this really the
Final stop, the Here
You keep wondering is
This the dreamed-of world?
Is this the where-she-wound-up world?
Could this be where
She settled and is
This where new-her begins
Is it here
You wonder as you scan the
Foreign rolling hills and the
Strange sunsets that make up this world
You say, this can't be here
This can't be where
She thought success begins
You don't know what here is
But it certainly is
Not the
Beginning of begins
Or of any kind of world
And it can't be where
You can find her here
Is this really a better world?
The everlasting where
Is it true a new you begins here?
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
With a Naked Eye
With a naked eye
I can see what you're worried about
And I can see you see you shouldn't be
But whether or not you're blind
I still wish you were mine
With my naked eyes
I don't need a telescope
To tell you got two left feet
But if you need feet to step on
Well, come on, you can step on me
And we'll glide, glide, glide
As our toes intertwine
You can't swim, you don't need to
You can't cook, neither can I
We're both hiding in a well-lit room
Pretending we don't see each other
With our naked eyes
I'm afraid to touch you
I'm scared you'll disappear
I keep trying to pin you down
With visual contact
And see if I can keep you here
I don't love the way I should
But I love the best I can
And I know you've known better men
But this is all the man I am
And I promise I'll never look away
Keep an eye on me, please
And I'll keep one too
Maybe we'll find that screwing up is harder to do
When naked eyes are watching you
I can see what you're worried about
And I can see you see you shouldn't be
But whether or not you're blind
I still wish you were mine
With my naked eyes
I don't need a telescope
To tell you got two left feet
But if you need feet to step on
Well, come on, you can step on me
And we'll glide, glide, glide
As our toes intertwine
You can't swim, you don't need to
You can't cook, neither can I
We're both hiding in a well-lit room
Pretending we don't see each other
With our naked eyes
I'm afraid to touch you
I'm scared you'll disappear
I keep trying to pin you down
With visual contact
And see if I can keep you here
I don't love the way I should
But I love the best I can
And I know you've known better men
But this is all the man I am
And I promise I'll never look away
Keep an eye on me, please
And I'll keep one too
Maybe we'll find that screwing up is harder to do
When naked eyes are watching you
Bob in Barcelona
Dear Mrs. Grigori,
First the good news
Your son isn't dead
Provided the plane he's on right now
Doesn't plummet into the ocean
He should be just fine
Unfortunately, I have no idea
Where the plane he's on is going
So the fact that he's alive
While it should bring you comfort
Should only bring you temporary comfort
As I have no idea what will happen to him
In whatever foreign country it is
He's decided to trot off to
I realize that as his teacher
And the chaperone of this trip
It is my responsibility
To know more
Than what I'm sharing with you
But sadly
I only know what I know
Because the girl your son is best friends with
Is also along with us on this trip
And she tells me
That when the two of them
Said they were going to the 'museum'
They were actually going to the airport
To put your son Dennis on a plane
Although as luck would have it
Brenna didn't seems to have forgotten
Where exactly he was going
You're welcome to torture her
When she gets back to the states
But Barcelona has much tougher laws on that
Than we do back in the U.S.
So for now, I'm going to have to believe
That she has no idea
Where the plane was headed
That she escorted your son on
Now, I know your first instinct is to panic
But I should tell you
That I have some personal experience
In wandering children
My daughter Jenna
Got on a plane for the first time
When she was thirteen
She snuck onto a flight
That she thought was going to Miami
Where her online boyfriend Teddy lived
Teddy turned out to be another teenage girl named Ivy
And Jenna, my daughter
Accidentally snuck onto a flight bound for Kansas
Where she called me in a panic
Screaming--
'THERE ARE NO BEACHES! WHERE ARE THE BEACHES?'
I had to book a flight to get here
Then book two flights back
When I suggested that Jenna sneak onto a flight home
She looked at me with utter disdain
And said--
'That's not funny, Daddy.'
As if her being an immoral brat was fine
But me SUGGESTING she do something wrong
Was too much of a disruption
After all, she was being rebellious
Who was I to not give her enough
To rebel against?
The truth is, I was just relieved
That I wasn't Ivy from Miami's father
I was never meant to be the disciplinarian
That was supposed to be my wife's job
But she's dead
Car accident
Snowy Vermont road
A story I'm sure you don't want to hear
Her death does pertain to this story, however
You see, my wife was a wanderer
She had these urges to travel
When she was a kid, her mother
Jenna's grandmother
Was one step above a gypsy
She married a military man
Who turned out not to be in the military
But rather, a con artist
And my wife spent most of her childhood
Staying one step ahead of her father's lies
When she rolled into Providence
We met up at the folk festival
Oh, please don't misunderstand me
We both hated folk music
She was there because she wanted to find weed
And a folk festival seemed like a good place to find it
I was there working a hot dog stand
Bad, bad summer job
She asked me where the good weed was
And I asked her if that was a band
That should tell you how worldly I was
Back before I crested middle age
We spent a day going from private beach to private beach
Being chased off one after another
Until finally we wound up at a party
Where, if I remember correctly
There were tikki torches
And lots of guest bedrooms
And a guy named Shawn
Who gave me and Annie
All the pot we could ever want
You'll notice I sort of buried the guest bedroom bit
But that would be the part where Jenna came in
Annie got pregnant
And got panicked
She was already halfway to Maine
When she had to turn around
And come back
Because she didn't know what to do
Aside from tell me I was going to be a father
I was so happy
And she was so scared
She didn't know how to settle down
She didn't know how to root herself
She was a moving person, you know?
Her whole life was a moving picture
But then Jenna was born
And she stopped
She just stopped
I was afraid she'd take off
But instead she froze
Right where she was
She said Jenna was a moment
And she wanted to live in that moment
Just in that moment
For as long as she could
The only trip she took after that
Was to Vermont
To see her mom and dad
Isn't that crazy?
I mean, doesn't that just drive you insane?
I wonder if Jenna will settle down
Once she has a kid
Or someone else
To settle down for
It's hard having a moving person in your life
It's like trying to read a book
Where the words keep moving
You're interested in what's happening
But eventually you give up
Because staying in it just takes too much out of you
I gave up on my daughter, Mrs. Grigori
You're the only person I've admitted that too
But since your son is most definitely getting expelled for this little stunt
I doubt we'll be having much contact after this
You know, I really don't like traveling very much
I was always content
To stay in Providence
Take a trip to New York or Boston every now and then
And let that be my life
I like the people and the places God gave me
And everything else I took in small doses
This is the first year I've signed up
To do this trip to Barcelona
Because Senora Castora's son
Came down with chicken pox
And I thought maybe
I'd been missing out on something
But the truth is
I'm not a moving person
Maybe that's what Annie loved about me
I was always thrilled
Just being with her
And when she was gone
I just wanted to be with my Jenna
And now I'm just waiting
Until she comes back
Or I go to Annie
Whichever comes first
That's what I'd advise you to do, Mrs. Grigori
Not die, of course
Wait
Wait for Dennis to come home
If you've loved him and given him some roots
Then he'll want to come back
And if you haven't
Then there's not much you can do about it now
Either way, you're a parent
And that means you wait
Until your kids decide
They need you again
By then you may be gone
But that's one of life's great ironies
I'm sorry I didn't keep a better eye on Dennis
Right before I found out he was gone
I was on the roof of my hotel
Watching the sun
Creep up over Barcelona
And I wondered if Jenna was seeing it too somewhere
Maybe right next to me
Because even though you never know how far someone is from you
You never know how close they are either
Sincerely,
Mr. Robert Brown
First the good news
Your son isn't dead
Provided the plane he's on right now
Doesn't plummet into the ocean
He should be just fine
Unfortunately, I have no idea
Where the plane he's on is going
So the fact that he's alive
While it should bring you comfort
Should only bring you temporary comfort
As I have no idea what will happen to him
In whatever foreign country it is
He's decided to trot off to
I realize that as his teacher
And the chaperone of this trip
It is my responsibility
To know more
Than what I'm sharing with you
But sadly
I only know what I know
Because the girl your son is best friends with
Is also along with us on this trip
And she tells me
That when the two of them
Said they were going to the 'museum'
They were actually going to the airport
To put your son Dennis on a plane
Although as luck would have it
Brenna didn't seems to have forgotten
Where exactly he was going
You're welcome to torture her
When she gets back to the states
But Barcelona has much tougher laws on that
Than we do back in the U.S.
So for now, I'm going to have to believe
That she has no idea
Where the plane was headed
That she escorted your son on
Now, I know your first instinct is to panic
But I should tell you
That I have some personal experience
In wandering children
My daughter Jenna
Got on a plane for the first time
When she was thirteen
She snuck onto a flight
That she thought was going to Miami
Where her online boyfriend Teddy lived
Teddy turned out to be another teenage girl named Ivy
And Jenna, my daughter
Accidentally snuck onto a flight bound for Kansas
Where she called me in a panic
Screaming--
'THERE ARE NO BEACHES! WHERE ARE THE BEACHES?'
I had to book a flight to get here
Then book two flights back
When I suggested that Jenna sneak onto a flight home
She looked at me with utter disdain
And said--
'That's not funny, Daddy.'
As if her being an immoral brat was fine
But me SUGGESTING she do something wrong
Was too much of a disruption
After all, she was being rebellious
Who was I to not give her enough
To rebel against?
The truth is, I was just relieved
That I wasn't Ivy from Miami's father
I was never meant to be the disciplinarian
That was supposed to be my wife's job
But she's dead
Car accident
Snowy Vermont road
A story I'm sure you don't want to hear
Her death does pertain to this story, however
You see, my wife was a wanderer
She had these urges to travel
When she was a kid, her mother
Jenna's grandmother
Was one step above a gypsy
She married a military man
Who turned out not to be in the military
But rather, a con artist
And my wife spent most of her childhood
Staying one step ahead of her father's lies
When she rolled into Providence
We met up at the folk festival
Oh, please don't misunderstand me
We both hated folk music
She was there because she wanted to find weed
And a folk festival seemed like a good place to find it
I was there working a hot dog stand
Bad, bad summer job
She asked me where the good weed was
And I asked her if that was a band
That should tell you how worldly I was
Back before I crested middle age
We spent a day going from private beach to private beach
Being chased off one after another
Until finally we wound up at a party
Where, if I remember correctly
There were tikki torches
And lots of guest bedrooms
And a guy named Shawn
Who gave me and Annie
All the pot we could ever want
You'll notice I sort of buried the guest bedroom bit
But that would be the part where Jenna came in
Annie got pregnant
And got panicked
She was already halfway to Maine
When she had to turn around
And come back
Because she didn't know what to do
Aside from tell me I was going to be a father
I was so happy
And she was so scared
She didn't know how to settle down
She didn't know how to root herself
She was a moving person, you know?
Her whole life was a moving picture
But then Jenna was born
And she stopped
She just stopped
I was afraid she'd take off
But instead she froze
Right where she was
She said Jenna was a moment
And she wanted to live in that moment
Just in that moment
For as long as she could
The only trip she took after that
Was to Vermont
To see her mom and dad
Isn't that crazy?
I mean, doesn't that just drive you insane?
I wonder if Jenna will settle down
Once she has a kid
Or someone else
To settle down for
It's hard having a moving person in your life
It's like trying to read a book
Where the words keep moving
You're interested in what's happening
But eventually you give up
Because staying in it just takes too much out of you
I gave up on my daughter, Mrs. Grigori
You're the only person I've admitted that too
But since your son is most definitely getting expelled for this little stunt
I doubt we'll be having much contact after this
You know, I really don't like traveling very much
I was always content
To stay in Providence
Take a trip to New York or Boston every now and then
And let that be my life
I like the people and the places God gave me
And everything else I took in small doses
This is the first year I've signed up
To do this trip to Barcelona
Because Senora Castora's son
Came down with chicken pox
And I thought maybe
I'd been missing out on something
But the truth is
I'm not a moving person
Maybe that's what Annie loved about me
I was always thrilled
Just being with her
And when she was gone
I just wanted to be with my Jenna
And now I'm just waiting
Until she comes back
Or I go to Annie
Whichever comes first
That's what I'd advise you to do, Mrs. Grigori
Not die, of course
Wait
Wait for Dennis to come home
If you've loved him and given him some roots
Then he'll want to come back
And if you haven't
Then there's not much you can do about it now
Either way, you're a parent
And that means you wait
Until your kids decide
They need you again
By then you may be gone
But that's one of life's great ironies
I'm sorry I didn't keep a better eye on Dennis
Right before I found out he was gone
I was on the roof of my hotel
Watching the sun
Creep up over Barcelona
And I wondered if Jenna was seeing it too somewhere
Maybe right next to me
Because even though you never know how far someone is from you
You never know how close they are either
Sincerely,
Mr. Robert Brown
Monday, August 30, 2010
When They Fix Him
They're gonna wash his hands
They're gonna cleanse his soul
They're gonna show him Jesus
And tell him that's he wrong
They're gonna put him in a lake
And try to keep him dry
Tell him he's not crying
And tell him he's just fine
They're gonna make him better
They're gonna make him hard
They'll put all new cracks in
So only they can let themselves in
They're gonna assure his parents
That he'll come back okay
That he'll be the man they wanted
And not the man he is
And he'll be free
Won't he be free?
Cause the world is tough on people like him
But they don't tell him
That the world is them
It's the only world they'll let him see
And they'll fix him
They'll fix him
They'll read him Bible verses
They'll break out all their tricks
They'll baptize him again
And hope this time it sticks
And they'll pray
And they'll pray
Telling him he'll be okay
Telling him he's not okay
Telling him he'll be okay
Telling him he's not okay
And inside he feels it dying
All the passion that he has
Slowly being stripped away
Secretly thinking maybe he can put it someplace
Where he can go back and get it another day
Then turning away from himself
And praying harder
And hoping if he does
He'll be clean
Why can't he be clean?
And they put their hands on him
And they say all their amen's
And they push and pull and pin him up
To see where the wound is
To see if they can find the infection
The place where sin crawled in
And in that moment
He feels like Jesus
And he's right
He's just right
But they're gonna fix him
They're gonna cleanse his soul
They're gonna show him Jesus
And tell him that's he wrong
They're gonna put him in a lake
And try to keep him dry
Tell him he's not crying
And tell him he's just fine
They're gonna make him better
They're gonna make him hard
They'll put all new cracks in
So only they can let themselves in
They're gonna assure his parents
That he'll come back okay
That he'll be the man they wanted
And not the man he is
And he'll be free
Won't he be free?
Cause the world is tough on people like him
But they don't tell him
That the world is them
It's the only world they'll let him see
And they'll fix him
They'll fix him
They'll read him Bible verses
They'll break out all their tricks
They'll baptize him again
And hope this time it sticks
And they'll pray
And they'll pray
Telling him he'll be okay
Telling him he's not okay
Telling him he'll be okay
Telling him he's not okay
And inside he feels it dying
All the passion that he has
Slowly being stripped away
Secretly thinking maybe he can put it someplace
Where he can go back and get it another day
Then turning away from himself
And praying harder
And hoping if he does
He'll be clean
Why can't he be clean?
And they put their hands on him
And they say all their amen's
And they push and pull and pin him up
To see where the wound is
To see if they can find the infection
The place where sin crawled in
And in that moment
He feels like Jesus
And he's right
He's just right
But they're gonna fix him
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Happy Land
Mom, I hated Happy Land
I really hated Happy Land
You tell everyone that I loved it
You say--'I don't understand. He LOVED Happy Land when he was a kid.'
And you're lying
I'm sorry, Mom, but you do
You lie
I hated Happy Land
You must have forgotten all the kicking
Screaming, crying, toy-flinging
That would ensue
Every time you would try to take me
To Happy Land
You and Dad would always make me go
In the middle of July
When the lines were three times as long
And it was so hot
I would pass out on the Ferris Wheel
And wake up on the flume
With no memory of what happened in between
Remember the year I choked on the hot dog?
Remember the year I threw a temper tantrum and punched Happy Hank the Harmless Hobo?
Remember the year I got lost in the hall of mirrors, took off my sneaker, and started smashing my way out yelling 'I'm hitting me! I'm hitting me!'
I know you think it was happy memories
And laughs and childhood fun
But come on, Mom
We're adults now
Can't we all just admit
It was a horrible idea
Every single year we did it?
And we probably would have kept going back
If Dad hadn't gotten banned from the park
When he accidentally backed the car
Into the Happy Land Bumper Car Shack
Look, don't feel bad
You know what I remember most about those trips?
I remember Dad passed out in the backseat
So I got to sit in the front
While you drove
And we sang Pete Seeger
All the way home
I remember stopping for milkshakes
At the little dairy hut
A few blocks from our house
And you letting me get a double
Even though I'd been a little brat all day
I remember pulling into our driveway
And being totally in love
With our house
And my room
And I remember you taking the photo
We all took in front of the Lizard Coaster
The one time all day we were smiling
Out of the bag of junk we'd bought
And putting it on the mantle
Next to the photos from the other years
And I remember you looking at that photo
Like you had the best family in the world
That's what I remember, Mom
That was Happy Land
I really hated Happy Land
You tell everyone that I loved it
You say--'I don't understand. He LOVED Happy Land when he was a kid.'
And you're lying
I'm sorry, Mom, but you do
You lie
I hated Happy Land
You must have forgotten all the kicking
Screaming, crying, toy-flinging
That would ensue
Every time you would try to take me
To Happy Land
You and Dad would always make me go
In the middle of July
When the lines were three times as long
And it was so hot
I would pass out on the Ferris Wheel
And wake up on the flume
With no memory of what happened in between
Remember the year I choked on the hot dog?
Remember the year I threw a temper tantrum and punched Happy Hank the Harmless Hobo?
Remember the year I got lost in the hall of mirrors, took off my sneaker, and started smashing my way out yelling 'I'm hitting me! I'm hitting me!'
I know you think it was happy memories
And laughs and childhood fun
But come on, Mom
We're adults now
Can't we all just admit
It was a horrible idea
Every single year we did it?
And we probably would have kept going back
If Dad hadn't gotten banned from the park
When he accidentally backed the car
Into the Happy Land Bumper Car Shack
Look, don't feel bad
You know what I remember most about those trips?
I remember Dad passed out in the backseat
So I got to sit in the front
While you drove
And we sang Pete Seeger
All the way home
I remember stopping for milkshakes
At the little dairy hut
A few blocks from our house
And you letting me get a double
Even though I'd been a little brat all day
I remember pulling into our driveway
And being totally in love
With our house
And my room
And I remember you taking the photo
We all took in front of the Lizard Coaster
The one time all day we were smiling
Out of the bag of junk we'd bought
And putting it on the mantle
Next to the photos from the other years
And I remember you looking at that photo
Like you had the best family in the world
That's what I remember, Mom
That was Happy Land
Breaking Up with Peter Pan
I just don't understand...
Is it something I did...?
Is it Tink?
Because if it's Tink
I just want to let you know
Nothing has ever happened
Between her and I
I mean, mainly because
She's the size of a golf ball
But even if she wasn't
We're strictly friends
I promise!
Is it all the pirate fighting?
Because I don't have to fight with them so much, you know?
It's just they keep kidnapping my friends
And then I get the call at three in the morning
With them being like--
'Oh Pete, we're sooo sorry, bro
But um, we're like, on a plank right now
Is there any way you could, um, come get us?
That'd be amazing, bro.'
And I have to go
Those are my bros!
Now, I know you've heard about me and the mermaids
But I promise you, that is all over with
The last mermaid I dated went all nuts
And blew up my coconut phone
Like every hour on the hour
If it were up to me
I would never go near the lagoon again
It's just that I'm really into surfing right now
And the mermaids can't really LEAVE the lagoon
What with the fishtails and all
Huh?
TIGER LILY?
Oh babe, that is SUCH old news
I was done with her years ago
I broke up with her the third time I turned ten
She was such a buzzkill
Always getting mad at me
For flying to London in the middle of the night
Looking for a new mother
No, I'm not in therapy
The last therapist we had on the island
Got eaten by a crocodile
Apparently, Hook is a Scientologist
Look, I know I need to grow up a little
But that's something we can work on together
Just as soon as you're done
Making dinner for me and the Lost Boys
And sewing up the patch in my green tights
Baby, I can't go flying around
With ripped tights!
Well, can't you fix the tights
And THEN break up with me?
Fine
Geez, what a way to spend your thirty-first tenth birthday
Is it something I did...?
Is it Tink?
Because if it's Tink
I just want to let you know
Nothing has ever happened
Between her and I
I mean, mainly because
She's the size of a golf ball
But even if she wasn't
We're strictly friends
I promise!
Is it all the pirate fighting?
Because I don't have to fight with them so much, you know?
It's just they keep kidnapping my friends
And then I get the call at three in the morning
With them being like--
'Oh Pete, we're sooo sorry, bro
But um, we're like, on a plank right now
Is there any way you could, um, come get us?
That'd be amazing, bro.'
And I have to go
Those are my bros!
Now, I know you've heard about me and the mermaids
But I promise you, that is all over with
The last mermaid I dated went all nuts
And blew up my coconut phone
Like every hour on the hour
If it were up to me
I would never go near the lagoon again
It's just that I'm really into surfing right now
And the mermaids can't really LEAVE the lagoon
What with the fishtails and all
Huh?
TIGER LILY?
Oh babe, that is SUCH old news
I was done with her years ago
I broke up with her the third time I turned ten
She was such a buzzkill
Always getting mad at me
For flying to London in the middle of the night
Looking for a new mother
No, I'm not in therapy
The last therapist we had on the island
Got eaten by a crocodile
Apparently, Hook is a Scientologist
Look, I know I need to grow up a little
But that's something we can work on together
Just as soon as you're done
Making dinner for me and the Lost Boys
And sewing up the patch in my green tights
Baby, I can't go flying around
With ripped tights!
Well, can't you fix the tights
And THEN break up with me?
Fine
Geez, what a way to spend your thirty-first tenth birthday
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Brady in Cairo
She was leaving when I met her
We were in the airport in Chicago
And I stole her luggage
I didn't mean to
We both had the same suitcases
If anything, she should have felt bad
She was a girl with ratty brown luggage
She should have been sheepish, at least
But instead she bit me
It was a...light bite
But it was still a bite
She bit my arm
Then slapped me
I...
I fell madly in love with her
Because, you know
Who does that?
We spent the weekend in the O'Hare airport
No, seriously, we did
We kept meaning to get a room or something
But we just kept talking
And walking
And eating at Applebee's
And falling asleep next to baggage check
Nobody bothered us
It was really...cool
She had just broken up with her boyfriend
And she was just really raw, you know?
It was like hanging out
With a really cool embryo
God, that sounds messed up
Anyway, after the two days were over
And we'd missed our flights
Obviously
We decided to meet somewhere
That neither of us had ever been before
The only problem was
I'm an army brat
And she's a rich girl with commitment issues
So between the two of us
We'd pretty much covered the globe
We settled on Cairo
I might have been there when I was two
Because I have a distinct fear of camels
That I can't quite place
But I said 'Yes' anyway
Jenna said she had to make a quick stop-over in Vegas first
To get some money from this Polish girl
Who apparently is madly in love with her
I guess the girl is loaded
And Jenna thinks if she sleeps with her for a week
She can score a couple thousand from her
And we can use that to start our new life
Here in Cairo
I know it seems like I should have had a problem with that
But I'm broke, so I'm really not in any place to judge
And she'd been cut off from her family
When she took off the first time
On a trip to London
That she never came back from
Besides it's not like she was headed off
To bang some guy
We kissed, and she got on a plane for Vegas
And my job was to get to Cairo
And get us a cheap hotel room
Until she got here
That was a month ago
I don't know why I thought she'd come
Maybe there was no ex-boyfriend
Maybe there was no Polish girl
Maybe she never read David Foster Wallace
And just said she did to make me happy
I don't know
I don't know a lot of stuff
It's crazy
I'm going to wait another day here for her
And then I'm going to fly to Vegas
And see if I can find her
If she's not there, I'll go back to Chicago
And if I don't find her waiting for me at the baggage claim
I'll...
I'll have to give up, I guess
The thing about meeting a stranger
When you're traveling
Is that you're in such a good mood
Because you've got the adrenaline from being in a new place
And the joy from being somewhere other than the shitty place you're from
And you want to fall in love because then your life would officially be like
One of those stupid romance movies
And you're just a prime target
For some insane girl
To take advantage of you
Except...
She didn't really take advantage of me
I bought her a few airport Applebee's appetizers
And peanut M&M's every day
And soda, and that plane ticket to Vegas
But that's it
She could have gotten way more out of me
If she'd come to Cairo
I should go out and explore
But I'm scared I'll run into a camel
I'm scared if I leave her
I'll be the victim of a car bombing
And she'll show up
And wonder where I went
I'm afraid we'll pass each other
At opposite ends of the hotel lobby
And not even notice
I wonder if for the rest of my life
I'll be terrified
That with every step I make
I'm stepping past her
Moving away from her
Because the thing is
When I was with her
I really felt like myself
Like this settled person
We were in that airport
Surrounded by people coming and going
And taking off
And arriving
And for the first time in my life
I felt still
I felt calm
So when I feel like I'm moving away from her
It feels like moving away from that person
That calm person I didn't know I could be
So maybe I should stay here, you know?
Maybe I should stay
Right where I am
We were in the airport in Chicago
And I stole her luggage
I didn't mean to
We both had the same suitcases
If anything, she should have felt bad
She was a girl with ratty brown luggage
She should have been sheepish, at least
But instead she bit me
It was a...light bite
But it was still a bite
She bit my arm
Then slapped me
I...
I fell madly in love with her
Because, you know
Who does that?
We spent the weekend in the O'Hare airport
No, seriously, we did
We kept meaning to get a room or something
But we just kept talking
And walking
And eating at Applebee's
And falling asleep next to baggage check
Nobody bothered us
It was really...cool
She had just broken up with her boyfriend
And she was just really raw, you know?
It was like hanging out
With a really cool embryo
God, that sounds messed up
Anyway, after the two days were over
And we'd missed our flights
Obviously
We decided to meet somewhere
That neither of us had ever been before
The only problem was
I'm an army brat
And she's a rich girl with commitment issues
So between the two of us
We'd pretty much covered the globe
We settled on Cairo
I might have been there when I was two
Because I have a distinct fear of camels
That I can't quite place
But I said 'Yes' anyway
Jenna said she had to make a quick stop-over in Vegas first
To get some money from this Polish girl
Who apparently is madly in love with her
I guess the girl is loaded
And Jenna thinks if she sleeps with her for a week
She can score a couple thousand from her
And we can use that to start our new life
Here in Cairo
I know it seems like I should have had a problem with that
But I'm broke, so I'm really not in any place to judge
And she'd been cut off from her family
When she took off the first time
On a trip to London
That she never came back from
Besides it's not like she was headed off
To bang some guy
We kissed, and she got on a plane for Vegas
And my job was to get to Cairo
And get us a cheap hotel room
Until she got here
That was a month ago
I don't know why I thought she'd come
Maybe there was no ex-boyfriend
Maybe there was no Polish girl
Maybe she never read David Foster Wallace
And just said she did to make me happy
I don't know
I don't know a lot of stuff
It's crazy
I'm going to wait another day here for her
And then I'm going to fly to Vegas
And see if I can find her
If she's not there, I'll go back to Chicago
And if I don't find her waiting for me at the baggage claim
I'll...
I'll have to give up, I guess
The thing about meeting a stranger
When you're traveling
Is that you're in such a good mood
Because you've got the adrenaline from being in a new place
And the joy from being somewhere other than the shitty place you're from
And you want to fall in love because then your life would officially be like
One of those stupid romance movies
And you're just a prime target
For some insane girl
To take advantage of you
Except...
She didn't really take advantage of me
I bought her a few airport Applebee's appetizers
And peanut M&M's every day
And soda, and that plane ticket to Vegas
But that's it
She could have gotten way more out of me
If she'd come to Cairo
I should go out and explore
But I'm scared I'll run into a camel
I'm scared if I leave her
I'll be the victim of a car bombing
And she'll show up
And wonder where I went
I'm afraid we'll pass each other
At opposite ends of the hotel lobby
And not even notice
I wonder if for the rest of my life
I'll be terrified
That with every step I make
I'm stepping past her
Moving away from her
Because the thing is
When I was with her
I really felt like myself
Like this settled person
We were in that airport
Surrounded by people coming and going
And taking off
And arriving
And for the first time in my life
I felt still
I felt calm
So when I feel like I'm moving away from her
It feels like moving away from that person
That calm person I didn't know I could be
So maybe I should stay here, you know?
Maybe I should stay
Right where I am
He Can't Pay the Rent
His hair is still messed up
From where the graduation cap rested
Three years ago
He still hasn't written
A play, novel, or pamphlet even
Though voices continue
To run through his head
Giving him ideas
Then ferreting them away
So each day becomes another lock
On the treasure chest of his creativity
His mom says he needs a haircut
But he doesn't see the point in looking nice
If you don't have a reason to
And part of him is hoping
That if he looks pitiable enough
Someone will intervene and put him away
Someplace where he can be quiet
And write
And create
And he can't pay the rent
His car engine went
His credit card upped the interest rate
His student loan payments began
And his cute little place
Up on College Hill
Became another bill
He couldn't afford to pay
He took an unnecessary trip to New York
With the hope of being inspired
But as soon as he saw the Providence skyline
He remembered who he was
Another post-grad planning on leaving
For greener pastures
Only to wake up three years letter
And find they haven't even gotten out of bed
He begins to doubt the existence of places
Does China really exist?
Does Australia?
Does London?
If you never see these places
And if you are consciousness
The collective consciousness
Or God, if you're God
And you never see Greenland
Does Greenland really exist?
He sort of believes that if he went to the airport
And bought a ticket for Greenland
The ticket seller would panic
Make a phone call
And his father and mother would appear
With an officious looking man
And say--
'Your suspicions were correct, kid. There is no Greenland. We've been screwing with you your entire life. Sorry about that.'
On the plus side, he would be missing a lot less
But he still couldn't pay the rent
He goes to auditions
And sees them see him
Bury himself in layers
Of insincerity
He recites monologues
From plays he doesn't like
And some he's never read
And attempts to have a 'moment'
You know a 'moment'
Where you're 'acting'
And you're 'real'
And he feels how much he sucks
He can actually feel himself
Sucking the sincerity
Out of the audition room
And he knows that he was a risk back when he was good
And now he's not even good
So who would take a risk on him now?
He starts surrounding himself
With bitter people
He litters his life with them
And they all sit around
Eat appetizers at Friday's
And pretend their friends
Aren't as happy as them
'He got a job touring with King and I? Is it an equity tour? Oh, well then...that's basically like touring community theater...and I don't think...'
'She got a tv show? Is it definitely going on the air? What channel? TBS? Oh, well that's not even really a station...'
'He got a rave in the Boston Globe? Jesus, who even reads the Boston Globe, you know? When I get around to doing something, it'll be way better than that...'
And they much and crunch
On their mozzarella sticks
With sweet duck sauce
Trying to counter
The sour tastes in their mouths
And none of them can pay the rent
Anytime someone tries to help him
Find a way out of the lost day
That's become his life
He pulls up the covers
And goes back to sleep
Not seeing the notice on the door
Or the floor
Or the ceiling
Or the peeling wallpaper
Underneath revealing a message from the previous occupant
Saying--
'Kid, get the hell out of bed and do something.'
A year from now
He'll get it
He will, he'll get it
He'll stop trying to write
'Less Than Zero' and 'Ulysses' and 'The Corrections'
And just start trying to write
And when he gives up
The idea of what success is
And accepts that success is hearing about a friend's success
And saying 'That's great' and meaning it
He'll get it
And he'll get a haircut too
He'll do what he should have done three years ago
But couldn't because nobody explains twenty-two to you
Until you're twenty-five
And by then you're just you're alive
By then he'll be a different guy
With a lot less voices in his head
And enough choices to keep him out of bed
More friends, and less people
And a smaller apartment
With a lot more light
And when he writes out the rent checks now
They cash
And he thinks--
All right
From where the graduation cap rested
Three years ago
He still hasn't written
A play, novel, or pamphlet even
Though voices continue
To run through his head
Giving him ideas
Then ferreting them away
So each day becomes another lock
On the treasure chest of his creativity
His mom says he needs a haircut
But he doesn't see the point in looking nice
If you don't have a reason to
And part of him is hoping
That if he looks pitiable enough
Someone will intervene and put him away
Someplace where he can be quiet
And write
And create
And he can't pay the rent
His car engine went
His credit card upped the interest rate
His student loan payments began
And his cute little place
Up on College Hill
Became another bill
He couldn't afford to pay
He took an unnecessary trip to New York
With the hope of being inspired
But as soon as he saw the Providence skyline
He remembered who he was
Another post-grad planning on leaving
For greener pastures
Only to wake up three years letter
And find they haven't even gotten out of bed
He begins to doubt the existence of places
Does China really exist?
Does Australia?
Does London?
If you never see these places
And if you are consciousness
The collective consciousness
Or God, if you're God
And you never see Greenland
Does Greenland really exist?
He sort of believes that if he went to the airport
And bought a ticket for Greenland
The ticket seller would panic
Make a phone call
And his father and mother would appear
With an officious looking man
And say--
'Your suspicions were correct, kid. There is no Greenland. We've been screwing with you your entire life. Sorry about that.'
On the plus side, he would be missing a lot less
But he still couldn't pay the rent
He goes to auditions
And sees them see him
Bury himself in layers
Of insincerity
He recites monologues
From plays he doesn't like
And some he's never read
And attempts to have a 'moment'
You know a 'moment'
Where you're 'acting'
And you're 'real'
And he feels how much he sucks
He can actually feel himself
Sucking the sincerity
Out of the audition room
And he knows that he was a risk back when he was good
And now he's not even good
So who would take a risk on him now?
He starts surrounding himself
With bitter people
He litters his life with them
And they all sit around
Eat appetizers at Friday's
And pretend their friends
Aren't as happy as them
'He got a job touring with King and I? Is it an equity tour? Oh, well then...that's basically like touring community theater...and I don't think...'
'She got a tv show? Is it definitely going on the air? What channel? TBS? Oh, well that's not even really a station...'
'He got a rave in the Boston Globe? Jesus, who even reads the Boston Globe, you know? When I get around to doing something, it'll be way better than that...'
And they much and crunch
On their mozzarella sticks
With sweet duck sauce
Trying to counter
The sour tastes in their mouths
And none of them can pay the rent
Anytime someone tries to help him
Find a way out of the lost day
That's become his life
He pulls up the covers
And goes back to sleep
Not seeing the notice on the door
Or the floor
Or the ceiling
Or the peeling wallpaper
Underneath revealing a message from the previous occupant
Saying--
'Kid, get the hell out of bed and do something.'
A year from now
He'll get it
He will, he'll get it
He'll stop trying to write
'Less Than Zero' and 'Ulysses' and 'The Corrections'
And just start trying to write
And when he gives up
The idea of what success is
And accepts that success is hearing about a friend's success
And saying 'That's great' and meaning it
He'll get it
And he'll get a haircut too
He'll do what he should have done three years ago
But couldn't because nobody explains twenty-two to you
Until you're twenty-five
And by then you're just you're alive
By then he'll be a different guy
With a lot less voices in his head
And enough choices to keep him out of bed
More friends, and less people
And a smaller apartment
With a lot more light
And when he writes out the rent checks now
They cash
And he thinks--
All right
Monday, August 23, 2010
When the Chekhov People Dance
We don't want to be at the party
Going on inside
We'd rather be out here
Smoking and joking about the bad omens
In the atmosphere and where we're heading
Once the bedding is finally moved out of the apartments
We reside in and decide to move to somewhere other than
Where we were moving to a few seconds ago
And we know we're supposed to be adults now
We're supposed to be grown-ups now
Mary doesn't like her boyfriend
She wants to fuck everyone else
She's got her hands inside my pants and I'm dancing
Trying to keep her at bay while I stay near Nina
Who wants Kevin to take her for three years in Heaven
The Heaven seven of us stopped believing in
After auditing the Atheism class we barely passed
Only taking away the fact
That God was created by George Bush #2
So what do we do when the music ends
Take friends and make them more-than-friends?
Go to the ends of the earth and experience a rebirth
Of our art and the perceived parts we play in the universe?
Turn gay? Turn straight?
Wait out the rest of our lives
In an obscure European city
Known for being pretty but not much else?
Lily doesn't want to leave
She believes that they'll ask her to stay on
And belong to the college
Like the stone gargoyles outside the library
She sees things that aren't there
And prepares herself for them
She's become permanently prepared for everything and nothing
Sarah loves a man who's going to kill himself
We just don't know when
We know he has a gun
We know he has pills he doesn't take
We know he's a failure and he knows it too
And we hope Sarah will be on vacation when he does it
Perhaps visiting us in our pretty European city
Vance is pissed because his dream list
Of things he was going to do in college
Is noticeably unchecked all over
And his brother Grover just got published in the Atlantic Monthly
For a story Vance told him while drunk one night
They fight but Vance must respect
That this story stealer is now the realer of the two of them
And Vance is now resigned to heading home
And moaning for the rest of his life
About not having a wife or a career
And taking care of their dear old mom
Inside somebody puts on Modern English
And we stop the world
To melt with each other
Twisted wasted narrow souls
Gone into gold with just a one-note 80's song
Suddenly we're not talking
Suddenly we're elated
Suddenly our frustration is put on probation
In favor of silliness and joy
We're the Chekhov people
And suddenly
We're dancing
Suddenly
We're free
Going on inside
We'd rather be out here
Smoking and joking about the bad omens
In the atmosphere and where we're heading
Once the bedding is finally moved out of the apartments
We reside in and decide to move to somewhere other than
Where we were moving to a few seconds ago
And we know we're supposed to be adults now
We're supposed to be grown-ups now
Mary doesn't like her boyfriend
She wants to fuck everyone else
She's got her hands inside my pants and I'm dancing
Trying to keep her at bay while I stay near Nina
Who wants Kevin to take her for three years in Heaven
The Heaven seven of us stopped believing in
After auditing the Atheism class we barely passed
Only taking away the fact
That God was created by George Bush #2
So what do we do when the music ends
Take friends and make them more-than-friends?
Go to the ends of the earth and experience a rebirth
Of our art and the perceived parts we play in the universe?
Turn gay? Turn straight?
Wait out the rest of our lives
In an obscure European city
Known for being pretty but not much else?
Lily doesn't want to leave
She believes that they'll ask her to stay on
And belong to the college
Like the stone gargoyles outside the library
She sees things that aren't there
And prepares herself for them
She's become permanently prepared for everything and nothing
Sarah loves a man who's going to kill himself
We just don't know when
We know he has a gun
We know he has pills he doesn't take
We know he's a failure and he knows it too
And we hope Sarah will be on vacation when he does it
Perhaps visiting us in our pretty European city
Vance is pissed because his dream list
Of things he was going to do in college
Is noticeably unchecked all over
And his brother Grover just got published in the Atlantic Monthly
For a story Vance told him while drunk one night
They fight but Vance must respect
That this story stealer is now the realer of the two of them
And Vance is now resigned to heading home
And moaning for the rest of his life
About not having a wife or a career
And taking care of their dear old mom
Inside somebody puts on Modern English
And we stop the world
To melt with each other
Twisted wasted narrow souls
Gone into gold with just a one-note 80's song
Suddenly we're not talking
Suddenly we're elated
Suddenly our frustration is put on probation
In favor of silliness and joy
We're the Chekhov people
And suddenly
We're dancing
Suddenly
We're free
Anna in Austria
This one is from my ex-boyfriend in Providence
He lived in a slanted apartment
On College Hill
I remember keeping a glass of water by his bed
And falling asleep looking at it
Marveling at how the water in the glass
Was leaning to one side
It felt like living in the clouds
I guess technically we were
We were in college after all
Dylan and I differed in almost every way
I think the only reason we stayed together
Is because I was the only person he ever met
Who understood his mother
Including him
She and I used to talk about trips we wanted to go on
Places we wanted to see
We'd be sitting up in her kitchen until all hours of the night
While Dylan would be asleep in the living room
Failing once again to make it through 'Lawrence of Arabia'
And Katherine, his mother, would lean across the table
Put her hand on mine
And say--
'I'm glad you're with my son'
Sometimes I think what she wanted to say was--
'I wish you were my son.'
or
'I wish my son were more like you.'
Dylan was timid
He was...careful
Katherine was like me
Hasty and happy
A great quality for a friend
That you get coffee with every few months
In between her trips to Paris
But a lousy kind of mother, I suppose
This is the letter from Dylan
It says he's in Dublin
He doesn't say what he's doing there
But you can tell he's specifically not saying what he's doing there
Because he wants me to believe he's changed
That he's now the sort of person
Who would just BE in Dublin
I admit, I am curious
Maybe he was on his way to somewhere nice like...Massachusetts
And a tornado swept his plane across the Atlantic
That's the only way I can imagine someone like Dylan in Dublin
He says he's doing well
That he's taken up...mountain climbing
Do they have mountains in Dublin?
Well, either way
He's going to find one
And climb it
And then he says--
'If you're ever in this area, we should get a drink.'
Poor Dylan
No concept of geography
He probably thinks Austria and Ireland
Are as close as New Hampshire and Vermont
He thinks since we're both in Europe
We must be just a stone's throw away
He's got a very Rhode Island frame of mind
When I told my father I was living in Austria
He said--
'A girl I taught that graduated last year is living in Austria. Do you know her? Her name is Emily.'
I wanted to say--
'Yes, Daddy, as a matter of fact, she's sitting right next to me. There's barely any room left in this country.'
But instead I just let him move on to the next topic
This letter is from my father
He's taking a group of students to Barcelona
And he wants to know how many shots I had to get
Before I came here
I'm sure I did get shots
But I don't actually recall it happening
Then again, I was very, very, very inebriated
When I boarded the plane to Austria
I had been on a drinking spree for four days straight
After I broke up with Dylan
At one point, I remember waking up
On the west side of Providence
In the street
Actually IN the street
A pair of stopped headlights is what woke me up
The driver helped me to my feet
And then asked me if I wanted a ride somewhere
Instead of answering, I ran
Luckily I ended up only being a few blocks
From the apartment of this girl
Who was in a creative writing class with me
Her name was Anna C. Mulishnik
And she had a ticket to Austria...
She told me she didn't want to go to Austria
But she had a spot in the writer's colony here
And she felt obligated to go
Because they only choose twelve people at a time
For each session
I said, 'Well, where do you want to go, Anna?'
And she said, 'I want to go to Las Vegas.'
Anna was from Poland
She had a thick accent
And lovely blonde hair
I imagined her actually turning into dust
Under the Las Vegas sun
'Vegas,' I said, 'Why do you want to go to Vegas?'
The way she blushed
I knew it was because of a man
'Her name is Jenna,' she said
Obviously I missed the mark
But not by much
Jenna and Anna had first started talking
When Anna's writing professor recommended they get in touch
He said Jenna's writing was similar to Anna's
And that they would benefit
From--I don't know, comparing notes, I guess?
Anyway, once they started talking and skyping
Anna fell head over heels
The only problem is that Jenna was dating this guy Robert
And they were moving all over the place
Until finally Robert broke things off in Chicago
And now Jenna was through with men
And was headed to Las Vegas to spend her life savings
And begin a career as a showgirl by night, writer by day
And Anna wanted to meet her there
But she felt guilty throwing away
Such a lucrative opportunity
So instead she threw it at me
And I became Anna C. Mulishik
It was a crazy idea, I know
But we didn't look all that much different
Especially once I dyed my hair
And let my tan fade
And when I suggested this
I was still drunk and probably high
And definitely looking for a reason
To leave town as soon as possible
So Anna became Emma
And Emma became Anna the Writer in Austria
The last person I saw before I left was Katherine
This is a letter from Katherine
She's living with Dylan's father
A poet, a man he never met
In a little apartment in Paris
And she's pregnant
Don't you just love it
When life starts taking on the shape
Of a really implausible movie?
The last time I saw her
It was past midnight
And my flight was leaving
Early the next morning
I sat at her table
And we drank wine
And ate stuffed mushrooms
From some party she'd come back from
And we talked about me leaving
It was sort of like a living funeral
I discussed the woman I was
And who I was planning on being
And Katherine said--'I think I'll go to Paris.'
I didn't ask her why
People moving has a way of inspiring others to move
Regardless of why the initial people are moving
I was moving because as far as I was concerned
Emma was both dead and on a flight to Vegas
To be with the woman she loved
I looked at Katherine
And imagined what my mother would have looked like
If she had made it to Katherine's age
She died in a car accident
When I was five
Snowy Vermont road
Visiting her mother
On the way home to see me
Like the first five minutes of a scary movie, isn't it?
Except the movie became my life
Although it wasn't all bad
Dad was good
Dylan was good
Katherine was good
But good just got old, you know?
And I was only a few years away
From passing by my mother
From where she'd been locked in time
And I was still very much five years old
And not getting any younger
I thought if I propelled myself in another direction
Maybe I'd wind up moving ahead in some way
Maybe that's what Katherine wanted to do too
We sat there sipping wine
And defrosting frozen pizza from the fridge
And like she'd done before
She reached across the table
Touched my hand
And said--
'It's going to be all right, Emma.'
And I closed the eyes
And pretended it was my mom saying it
Calling me by my name
For the last time
He lived in a slanted apartment
On College Hill
I remember keeping a glass of water by his bed
And falling asleep looking at it
Marveling at how the water in the glass
Was leaning to one side
It felt like living in the clouds
I guess technically we were
We were in college after all
Dylan and I differed in almost every way
I think the only reason we stayed together
Is because I was the only person he ever met
Who understood his mother
Including him
She and I used to talk about trips we wanted to go on
Places we wanted to see
We'd be sitting up in her kitchen until all hours of the night
While Dylan would be asleep in the living room
Failing once again to make it through 'Lawrence of Arabia'
And Katherine, his mother, would lean across the table
Put her hand on mine
And say--
'I'm glad you're with my son'
Sometimes I think what she wanted to say was--
'I wish you were my son.'
or
'I wish my son were more like you.'
Dylan was timid
He was...careful
Katherine was like me
Hasty and happy
A great quality for a friend
That you get coffee with every few months
In between her trips to Paris
But a lousy kind of mother, I suppose
This is the letter from Dylan
It says he's in Dublin
He doesn't say what he's doing there
But you can tell he's specifically not saying what he's doing there
Because he wants me to believe he's changed
That he's now the sort of person
Who would just BE in Dublin
I admit, I am curious
Maybe he was on his way to somewhere nice like...Massachusetts
And a tornado swept his plane across the Atlantic
That's the only way I can imagine someone like Dylan in Dublin
He says he's doing well
That he's taken up...mountain climbing
Do they have mountains in Dublin?
Well, either way
He's going to find one
And climb it
And then he says--
'If you're ever in this area, we should get a drink.'
Poor Dylan
No concept of geography
He probably thinks Austria and Ireland
Are as close as New Hampshire and Vermont
He thinks since we're both in Europe
We must be just a stone's throw away
He's got a very Rhode Island frame of mind
When I told my father I was living in Austria
He said--
'A girl I taught that graduated last year is living in Austria. Do you know her? Her name is Emily.'
I wanted to say--
'Yes, Daddy, as a matter of fact, she's sitting right next to me. There's barely any room left in this country.'
But instead I just let him move on to the next topic
This letter is from my father
He's taking a group of students to Barcelona
And he wants to know how many shots I had to get
Before I came here
I'm sure I did get shots
But I don't actually recall it happening
Then again, I was very, very, very inebriated
When I boarded the plane to Austria
I had been on a drinking spree for four days straight
After I broke up with Dylan
At one point, I remember waking up
On the west side of Providence
In the street
Actually IN the street
A pair of stopped headlights is what woke me up
The driver helped me to my feet
And then asked me if I wanted a ride somewhere
Instead of answering, I ran
Luckily I ended up only being a few blocks
From the apartment of this girl
Who was in a creative writing class with me
Her name was Anna C. Mulishnik
And she had a ticket to Austria...
She told me she didn't want to go to Austria
But she had a spot in the writer's colony here
And she felt obligated to go
Because they only choose twelve people at a time
For each session
I said, 'Well, where do you want to go, Anna?'
And she said, 'I want to go to Las Vegas.'
Anna was from Poland
She had a thick accent
And lovely blonde hair
I imagined her actually turning into dust
Under the Las Vegas sun
'Vegas,' I said, 'Why do you want to go to Vegas?'
The way she blushed
I knew it was because of a man
'Her name is Jenna,' she said
Obviously I missed the mark
But not by much
Jenna and Anna had first started talking
When Anna's writing professor recommended they get in touch
He said Jenna's writing was similar to Anna's
And that they would benefit
From--I don't know, comparing notes, I guess?
Anyway, once they started talking and skyping
Anna fell head over heels
The only problem is that Jenna was dating this guy Robert
And they were moving all over the place
Until finally Robert broke things off in Chicago
And now Jenna was through with men
And was headed to Las Vegas to spend her life savings
And begin a career as a showgirl by night, writer by day
And Anna wanted to meet her there
But she felt guilty throwing away
Such a lucrative opportunity
So instead she threw it at me
And I became Anna C. Mulishik
It was a crazy idea, I know
But we didn't look all that much different
Especially once I dyed my hair
And let my tan fade
And when I suggested this
I was still drunk and probably high
And definitely looking for a reason
To leave town as soon as possible
So Anna became Emma
And Emma became Anna the Writer in Austria
The last person I saw before I left was Katherine
This is a letter from Katherine
She's living with Dylan's father
A poet, a man he never met
In a little apartment in Paris
And she's pregnant
Don't you just love it
When life starts taking on the shape
Of a really implausible movie?
The last time I saw her
It was past midnight
And my flight was leaving
Early the next morning
I sat at her table
And we drank wine
And ate stuffed mushrooms
From some party she'd come back from
And we talked about me leaving
It was sort of like a living funeral
I discussed the woman I was
And who I was planning on being
And Katherine said--'I think I'll go to Paris.'
I didn't ask her why
People moving has a way of inspiring others to move
Regardless of why the initial people are moving
I was moving because as far as I was concerned
Emma was both dead and on a flight to Vegas
To be with the woman she loved
I looked at Katherine
And imagined what my mother would have looked like
If she had made it to Katherine's age
She died in a car accident
When I was five
Snowy Vermont road
Visiting her mother
On the way home to see me
Like the first five minutes of a scary movie, isn't it?
Except the movie became my life
Although it wasn't all bad
Dad was good
Dylan was good
Katherine was good
But good just got old, you know?
And I was only a few years away
From passing by my mother
From where she'd been locked in time
And I was still very much five years old
And not getting any younger
I thought if I propelled myself in another direction
Maybe I'd wind up moving ahead in some way
Maybe that's what Katherine wanted to do too
We sat there sipping wine
And defrosting frozen pizza from the fridge
And like she'd done before
She reached across the table
Touched my hand
And said--
'It's going to be all right, Emma.'
And I closed the eyes
And pretended it was my mom saying it
Calling me by my name
For the last time
Sunday, August 22, 2010
The Villain Sends Out His 'Thank You's
I, the world's most evil man, would like to send out a few 'thank you's...
I would like to thank Dan Brown
For fighting to expose the truths behind Catholicism
And also for writing that gripping yarn 'Deception Point'
Have you read that book?
It is damn good
No Jesus in it, but still
Quite a page-turner
I would like to thank Bill O'Reilly
For being my pen pal
When we were both wee lads
I only wish he had turned out
With views as strong as mine are
Forget arguing with liberals
I say throw them on an electric fence
And let nature take its course
I would like to thank the Dalai Lama
For giving me a ride home from the airport
I felt bad about punching in the arm afterwards
But you don't get to be the Villain
By being a sweetheart all the time
I would like to thank my koala bear, John Tesh
Who brings unlimited joy to my life
By attacking anyone who comes near me
Especially my family
Finally, I would like to thank Debra Winger
For those two glorious nights in Rome
We can never go back
But that's why we made the video
Ahhh...
That felt good
I would like to thank Dan Brown
For fighting to expose the truths behind Catholicism
And also for writing that gripping yarn 'Deception Point'
Have you read that book?
It is damn good
No Jesus in it, but still
Quite a page-turner
I would like to thank Bill O'Reilly
For being my pen pal
When we were both wee lads
I only wish he had turned out
With views as strong as mine are
Forget arguing with liberals
I say throw them on an electric fence
And let nature take its course
I would like to thank the Dalai Lama
For giving me a ride home from the airport
I felt bad about punching in the arm afterwards
But you don't get to be the Villain
By being a sweetheart all the time
I would like to thank my koala bear, John Tesh
Who brings unlimited joy to my life
By attacking anyone who comes near me
Especially my family
Finally, I would like to thank Debra Winger
For those two glorious nights in Rome
We can never go back
But that's why we made the video
Ahhh...
That felt good
Grace's Inconvenient Moment
Daniel, I'm going back to school
I going back because I don't feel like a grown-up
And yet I feel totally grown-up
I feel past grown-up
I feel, sort of, done
Like I'm...done
I have you
I have the kids
And I have a great job
And I know that little piece of paper
Shouldn't mean very much
But it does, Daniel
It does
The other day Callie brought home Algebra homework
And I couldn't do it
And I thought to myself
What if this is what I missed in college?
Then you came home
And you couldn't do it either
And admittedly
That made me feel better
But that's my life everyday
I hear a word I don't know
I hear a name or a term
I watch a game show
And when I don't know the answer
I think--
Is that what I missed?
Would I have known that?
You can feel secure in the things you don't know
Because you have that piece of paper
Because I stayed home and had the kids
So you could make something of yourself
So we could have a house and two cars
And a pool in the summer
And I don't resent you for that
But I will if you tell me
I can't go back
And just so we're clear
If you tell me I can't go back
I'm going back anyway
So if you thought this was me asking permission
Then I may have mislead you
When I was growing up
My mother said to me--
Find a good husband
And you won't need to go to college
And I didn't entirely believe her
But it did make it easier to quit school
Once I found out I was pregnant
It was easier thinking I wasn't letting anyone down
I never counted on feeling like I let myself down
Daniel, I want to do this now
Because in a few years
Callie is going to have to make the same decision I did
She's going to have to choose
Between school or traveling
Or getting married and having kids
Or running off to Europe
And never coming back
And I'll love her no matter what she chooses
But just in case ten years later
She realizes that she's not thrilled with the choice she made
I want her to remember me
In this moment
This inconvenient moment
Making a change to say
It's not too late
To change my life
That way if she has to
She can do the same
So Daniel, I'm going back
And I'm majoring in something ridiculous
And I'm going to wear a backpack
And buy folders
And number two pencils
And be that woman on campus
Who went back to school
And because nobody cared when I dropped out of school
I don't care what anybody thinks about me going back
I love you
Now go make dinner
Because I've got to go buy school supplies
I going back because I don't feel like a grown-up
And yet I feel totally grown-up
I feel past grown-up
I feel, sort of, done
Like I'm...done
I have you
I have the kids
And I have a great job
And I know that little piece of paper
Shouldn't mean very much
But it does, Daniel
It does
The other day Callie brought home Algebra homework
And I couldn't do it
And I thought to myself
What if this is what I missed in college?
Then you came home
And you couldn't do it either
And admittedly
That made me feel better
But that's my life everyday
I hear a word I don't know
I hear a name or a term
I watch a game show
And when I don't know the answer
I think--
Is that what I missed?
Would I have known that?
You can feel secure in the things you don't know
Because you have that piece of paper
Because I stayed home and had the kids
So you could make something of yourself
So we could have a house and two cars
And a pool in the summer
And I don't resent you for that
But I will if you tell me
I can't go back
And just so we're clear
If you tell me I can't go back
I'm going back anyway
So if you thought this was me asking permission
Then I may have mislead you
When I was growing up
My mother said to me--
Find a good husband
And you won't need to go to college
And I didn't entirely believe her
But it did make it easier to quit school
Once I found out I was pregnant
It was easier thinking I wasn't letting anyone down
I never counted on feeling like I let myself down
Daniel, I want to do this now
Because in a few years
Callie is going to have to make the same decision I did
She's going to have to choose
Between school or traveling
Or getting married and having kids
Or running off to Europe
And never coming back
And I'll love her no matter what she chooses
But just in case ten years later
She realizes that she's not thrilled with the choice she made
I want her to remember me
In this moment
This inconvenient moment
Making a change to say
It's not too late
To change my life
That way if she has to
She can do the same
So Daniel, I'm going back
And I'm majoring in something ridiculous
And I'm going to wear a backpack
And buy folders
And number two pencils
And be that woman on campus
Who went back to school
And because nobody cared when I dropped out of school
I don't care what anybody thinks about me going back
I love you
Now go make dinner
Because I've got to go buy school supplies
Dylan in Dublin
You know, normally I hate travel
But I don't consider it traveling
When I can still understand the language
That's why I came here
Um, no, I don't drink
I'm not even Irish
It's just my mother is in Paris
And my ex-girlfriend is in Austria
And I'm not brave enough to venture any farther than Europe
Even to make the point that I can travel
I just choose not to
I tried London first
But it was raining there
And there was this woman
Standing outside the rain
Looking up into it
Probably imagining a dead child
Or something
And that was a bad omen
In my opinion
So I decided Dublin might be fun
I knew a girl once
Who went to Dublin
And she said she loved it
Then again, she killed herself
So...
I'd like to do something life-changing
While I'm here
Are there any mountains I can scale?
I'd prefer a smaller mountain
So as not to irritate my asthma
I've never been officially diagnosed
As having asthma
But you really have to trust your instincts
On things like that
My mom used to tease me
About stuff like that
She was always traveling everywhere
While I stayed home with whatever babysitter
She could come up with in under a day's notice
Most of the time it was my grandmother
She at least believed me
When I told her
I was suffering from acute Indian malaria
After awhile, we sort of banded together
Against my mother
Until finally she was gone
More than she was home
I think it was for the best
As mother and son
We just weren't a good match
As distant cousins, I think we would have gotten along fine
. . . . .
I'm supposed to be at my graduation right now
I'm graduating from Brown
You've never heard of it?
You've never heard of BROWN?
No, it's not near Harvard
But thank you for salting that wound
My grandmother is going to be incensed
When she finds out I'm not there
I didn't tell her I wasn't going
I just...took off
My mother would be proud
Except...
I didn't do it to be like her
I did it because I'm done with college
And I have absolutely no idea
What it is I'm supposed to do
More importantly
I felt the urge
To move somewhere
Every friend I've had in college
Are spending this week
Packing up their stuff
And moving
Some have internships
Some have jobs
Some have trips planned
But a good number of them
Are just moving--for the hell of it
My friend Jason is moving to Colorado
And when I asked why he said--
'Because it sounds like something to do.'
People are no longer experimenting with ice cream flavors
They're experimenting with residences
But you can't fight it
And since I had no plans
On going anywhere
Because I had planned
On spending however much time I needed
Trying to figure out who the hell I am
And trying to do that in a new location
Would be ultimately more difficult for me
I was already way behind everyone else
When it came to exit strategies
So I said, 'What the hell, I'll just skip graduation.'
And I bet that everyone back home
Probably envies me
I have run away faster
Than everyone I know
They'll probably send me a medal
Do you have Sprite here?
I'd love a Sprite
...On the rocks
There's another reason I missed graduation
I don't do well with...leaving
With good-byes
That kind of thing
I guess I decided that this time around
I'd rather be doing the leaving
So I left
And came here
And now I'd like to change my life
So...
Is there an orphanage I can volunteer at or something?
I just want to feel like an adult now
I want to feel like I'm moving
Like I'm one of those moving people
My whole life I've been in one place
So now I'm here
In a different place
I moved
I guess from here on out
I'm going to leave it up to luck
But I don't consider it traveling
When I can still understand the language
That's why I came here
Um, no, I don't drink
I'm not even Irish
It's just my mother is in Paris
And my ex-girlfriend is in Austria
And I'm not brave enough to venture any farther than Europe
Even to make the point that I can travel
I just choose not to
I tried London first
But it was raining there
And there was this woman
Standing outside the rain
Looking up into it
Probably imagining a dead child
Or something
And that was a bad omen
In my opinion
So I decided Dublin might be fun
I knew a girl once
Who went to Dublin
And she said she loved it
Then again, she killed herself
So...
I'd like to do something life-changing
While I'm here
Are there any mountains I can scale?
I'd prefer a smaller mountain
So as not to irritate my asthma
I've never been officially diagnosed
As having asthma
But you really have to trust your instincts
On things like that
My mom used to tease me
About stuff like that
She was always traveling everywhere
While I stayed home with whatever babysitter
She could come up with in under a day's notice
Most of the time it was my grandmother
She at least believed me
When I told her
I was suffering from acute Indian malaria
After awhile, we sort of banded together
Against my mother
Until finally she was gone
More than she was home
I think it was for the best
As mother and son
We just weren't a good match
As distant cousins, I think we would have gotten along fine
. . . . .
I'm supposed to be at my graduation right now
I'm graduating from Brown
You've never heard of it?
You've never heard of BROWN?
No, it's not near Harvard
But thank you for salting that wound
My grandmother is going to be incensed
When she finds out I'm not there
I didn't tell her I wasn't going
I just...took off
My mother would be proud
Except...
I didn't do it to be like her
I did it because I'm done with college
And I have absolutely no idea
What it is I'm supposed to do
More importantly
I felt the urge
To move somewhere
Every friend I've had in college
Are spending this week
Packing up their stuff
And moving
Some have internships
Some have jobs
Some have trips planned
But a good number of them
Are just moving--for the hell of it
My friend Jason is moving to Colorado
And when I asked why he said--
'Because it sounds like something to do.'
People are no longer experimenting with ice cream flavors
They're experimenting with residences
But you can't fight it
And since I had no plans
On going anywhere
Because I had planned
On spending however much time I needed
Trying to figure out who the hell I am
And trying to do that in a new location
Would be ultimately more difficult for me
I was already way behind everyone else
When it came to exit strategies
So I said, 'What the hell, I'll just skip graduation.'
And I bet that everyone back home
Probably envies me
I have run away faster
Than everyone I know
They'll probably send me a medal
Do you have Sprite here?
I'd love a Sprite
...On the rocks
There's another reason I missed graduation
I don't do well with...leaving
With good-byes
That kind of thing
I guess I decided that this time around
I'd rather be doing the leaving
So I left
And came here
And now I'd like to change my life
So...
Is there an orphanage I can volunteer at or something?
I just want to feel like an adult now
I want to feel like I'm moving
Like I'm one of those moving people
My whole life I've been in one place
So now I'm here
In a different place
I moved
I guess from here on out
I'm going to leave it up to luck
Cherry in London
I'm in London
Because Robert will be here
In five days
In five days
He will be returning to the city
Where he fell in love
With my best friend, Jenna
Jenna was...
Well, I think that actually sums it up
Jenna was
Jenna's just one of those people
Who is a memory
From the minute you meet them
Jenna is always leaving
Wherever it is
That she is
Restaurants
Relationships
Hemispheres
That's just Jenna
And Robert met her here in London
She and I and our friend Jessica
All came here for Spring Break
Jessica was studying theater at Brown
Now she's running this theater in Providence
It kills me to think my friends have such grown-up jobs
And I still can't decide whether or not
To go back to grad school
Or what I would go back for
My degree from Brown was in lost cities
No, I'm not making that up
If I went back to get my masters
I don't know which part I would delve further into
The cities or the lost
Jenna wasn't studying anything either
Which made it much easier for her to drop out of school
When we got to London
She put down her bags
Looked at me and Jessica
And said--
'Girls, I'm staying'
We thought she meant at the airport
We were a little confused
It was the first time either of us
Had heard Jenna say she was 'staying' somewhere
But she meant London
She was going to stay in London
And after three days
I was ready to stay with her
But a lot of that was Robert
We met him at a pub
Near our hotel
He told us he was an exchange student
But he was actually just a tourist
Visiting London with his mother
He was also younger than us
He was from Providence
And he was supposed to be attending BC
In the fall
I fell in love with him instantly
Jenna needed a few beers in her
Before she could make that leap
We spent the rest of Robert's week in town
Just walking around
Being sight-seers
I remember it raining
That London sort of rain
The very first time
And the three of us stood out in it
Because we wanted to be pelted
With London rain
We held hands
And ran around in a circle
Singing 'London Bridges'
And, as you've probably guessed
We were incredibly drunk
We were drunk most of the time
And when we finally sobered up one morning
On the hardwood floor of a flat
That belonged to none of us
But to some guy we met at a club
The night before
We realized that our trio
Was not some lovely friendly triangle
But rather a creepy third-wheel situation
And guess who was the third wheel...?
So I came home
It seemed like the right thing to do
Robert told his mother he was in love
And that he and Jenna were going to stay in London
His mother and I sat next to each other
On the plane ride back
And she kept giving me dirty looks
As if it were my fault he were staying
Because Jenna was my friend
Or perhaps she thought if he had fallen in love with me
He would have returned to Providence
And then gone on to BC
And now he was surely going to take up poetry
And die in London or Paris
Or some place poets go to die
I used to get postcards from the two of them
First from London
Then from a variety of other cities
Until finally it became clear
That Jenna had stopped having anything to do with the postcards
And Robert was now signing both names
Jessica and I used to get lunch
And discuss Jenna and Robert
We'd imagine them backpacking across the Alps
Or auditioning for films in L.A.
Or shooting up in an abandoned warehouse in Jersey
Jessica loved imagining these things
Because it helped her get over the fact
That her life was in the arts
And yet compared to Jenna's life
There was a notable lack of excitement
I liked imagining Robert
In all my scenarios
He was unhappy
And his droopy 'o's on the postcards he sent me
Seemed to back me up on this
Then last week
I got the postcard
That placed me here
'It's over. I'm going back to London. Meet me?'
Signed Robert
Just Robert
. . . . .
I hope he doesn't ask me to stay here
I want to stay with him
With him would be...
Wonderful
But I don't want to stay here
I'm not like Jenna
I like where I am
I know that sounds terrible
I know I sound like something out of 'Our Town'
But I've been living in Providence now
For so many years
And it's...
It's sort of like being married to someone
I don't always love it
But I miss it
When it's not there
Today when I arrived
It was raining
And I went outside
To stand in it
There was a boy from Providence
Sitting next to me on the plane
And when he walked out of the airport
And saw me standing in the rain
He said--
'They have rain in Providence too, you know.'
Sometimes I think you go on vacation
To see the same things you have at home
Rearranged on foreign streets
As I was standing out in the London rain
I thought of Robert
Was he my London rain?
The same sort of man
I could get anywhere
Just with a better back story?
Maybe I'm getting ahead of myself
Maybe he'll get here
And tell me
He doesn't want me at all
That he was just joking
About meeting me here
And how could I do something so rash
As to hop on a plane to London
And wait for him to arrive?
Maybe this was all a mistake
Or maybe he'll get here
And I'll pull him out into the rain
And it'll be just the two of us
Covered in foreign precipitation
And maybe we'll go somewhere unique
And see things we can only see here
And toss American coins with American Presidents
Into a fountain somewhere
And then maybe it'll start to rain again
And I'll turn to him and say--
'Robert, let's go home'
And we will
But before we do
We'll stop at a gift shop
So I can pick up a postcard
To send to myself
And it'll be waiting for me
When I get back
Because Robert will be here
In five days
In five days
He will be returning to the city
Where he fell in love
With my best friend, Jenna
Jenna was...
Well, I think that actually sums it up
Jenna was
Jenna's just one of those people
Who is a memory
From the minute you meet them
Jenna is always leaving
Wherever it is
That she is
Restaurants
Relationships
Hemispheres
That's just Jenna
And Robert met her here in London
She and I and our friend Jessica
All came here for Spring Break
Jessica was studying theater at Brown
Now she's running this theater in Providence
It kills me to think my friends have such grown-up jobs
And I still can't decide whether or not
To go back to grad school
Or what I would go back for
My degree from Brown was in lost cities
No, I'm not making that up
If I went back to get my masters
I don't know which part I would delve further into
The cities or the lost
Jenna wasn't studying anything either
Which made it much easier for her to drop out of school
When we got to London
She put down her bags
Looked at me and Jessica
And said--
'Girls, I'm staying'
We thought she meant at the airport
We were a little confused
It was the first time either of us
Had heard Jenna say she was 'staying' somewhere
But she meant London
She was going to stay in London
And after three days
I was ready to stay with her
But a lot of that was Robert
We met him at a pub
Near our hotel
He told us he was an exchange student
But he was actually just a tourist
Visiting London with his mother
He was also younger than us
He was from Providence
And he was supposed to be attending BC
In the fall
I fell in love with him instantly
Jenna needed a few beers in her
Before she could make that leap
We spent the rest of Robert's week in town
Just walking around
Being sight-seers
I remember it raining
That London sort of rain
The very first time
And the three of us stood out in it
Because we wanted to be pelted
With London rain
We held hands
And ran around in a circle
Singing 'London Bridges'
And, as you've probably guessed
We were incredibly drunk
We were drunk most of the time
And when we finally sobered up one morning
On the hardwood floor of a flat
That belonged to none of us
But to some guy we met at a club
The night before
We realized that our trio
Was not some lovely friendly triangle
But rather a creepy third-wheel situation
And guess who was the third wheel...?
So I came home
It seemed like the right thing to do
Robert told his mother he was in love
And that he and Jenna were going to stay in London
His mother and I sat next to each other
On the plane ride back
And she kept giving me dirty looks
As if it were my fault he were staying
Because Jenna was my friend
Or perhaps she thought if he had fallen in love with me
He would have returned to Providence
And then gone on to BC
And now he was surely going to take up poetry
And die in London or Paris
Or some place poets go to die
I used to get postcards from the two of them
First from London
Then from a variety of other cities
Until finally it became clear
That Jenna had stopped having anything to do with the postcards
And Robert was now signing both names
Jessica and I used to get lunch
And discuss Jenna and Robert
We'd imagine them backpacking across the Alps
Or auditioning for films in L.A.
Or shooting up in an abandoned warehouse in Jersey
Jessica loved imagining these things
Because it helped her get over the fact
That her life was in the arts
And yet compared to Jenna's life
There was a notable lack of excitement
I liked imagining Robert
In all my scenarios
He was unhappy
And his droopy 'o's on the postcards he sent me
Seemed to back me up on this
Then last week
I got the postcard
That placed me here
'It's over. I'm going back to London. Meet me?'
Signed Robert
Just Robert
. . . . .
I hope he doesn't ask me to stay here
I want to stay with him
With him would be...
Wonderful
But I don't want to stay here
I'm not like Jenna
I like where I am
I know that sounds terrible
I know I sound like something out of 'Our Town'
But I've been living in Providence now
For so many years
And it's...
It's sort of like being married to someone
I don't always love it
But I miss it
When it's not there
Today when I arrived
It was raining
And I went outside
To stand in it
There was a boy from Providence
Sitting next to me on the plane
And when he walked out of the airport
And saw me standing in the rain
He said--
'They have rain in Providence too, you know.'
Sometimes I think you go on vacation
To see the same things you have at home
Rearranged on foreign streets
As I was standing out in the London rain
I thought of Robert
Was he my London rain?
The same sort of man
I could get anywhere
Just with a better back story?
Maybe I'm getting ahead of myself
Maybe he'll get here
And tell me
He doesn't want me at all
That he was just joking
About meeting me here
And how could I do something so rash
As to hop on a plane to London
And wait for him to arrive?
Maybe this was all a mistake
Or maybe he'll get here
And I'll pull him out into the rain
And it'll be just the two of us
Covered in foreign precipitation
And maybe we'll go somewhere unique
And see things we can only see here
And toss American coins with American Presidents
Into a fountain somewhere
And then maybe it'll start to rain again
And I'll turn to him and say--
'Robert, let's go home'
And we will
But before we do
We'll stop at a gift shop
So I can pick up a postcard
To send to myself
And it'll be waiting for me
When I get back
Friday, August 20, 2010
Joey in the Kitchen
Hi Dad?
Dad, it's me
Joey
Yeah, I know you're at work
But I just have a quick question--
Mom told me that I'm lazy
And need to learn to do things on my own
So I told her I was going to make my own dinner tonight
Little problem:
I'm not sure what the stove is...
Well, I google imaged it
But nothing that came up
Looked like anything we have in here
So then I google imaged oven
But nothing came up
'U-H-V-E-N'
Ohhhhh...
'O-V-E-N'
Well, where were you
Five hours ago, Dad?
No, I CAN'T use the microwave
I want to make a Thanksgiving turkey
Because Mom thinks I'm an idiot who can't cook
So I'm going to make the hardest thing you can make
Well, I was going to make a souffle
But I couldn't spell that either
And recipes dot com doesn't have a spell check
I have to cook it for HOW long?
What if I turn the oven up REALLY high?
Dad, if you cook it at twice the temperature
It'll cook faster
No wonder I flunked math in junior high
YOU were the one doing my homework
Can't I just put it in the crock pot?
I got stuff to do today
Dad, you can make anything in a crock pot
Even I know that
I've got pancake batter in there right now
Well, I had to eat breakfast before I could have lunch!
You know what, never mind
I'll just order something from the Italian place next door
And scoop it out onto plates
Like you did on your anniversary
When you told Mom you were slaving away all day
In the kitchen
You keep my secrets, old man
I'll keep yours
All right, fine, go back to work
I gotta call 'Anthony's' and get the dinner special
Do you know the number?
Never mind I'll look it up in the phone book
'Anthony' ends with a 'y,' right?
See?
I'm not that stupid
Dad, it's me
Joey
Yeah, I know you're at work
But I just have a quick question--
Mom told me that I'm lazy
And need to learn to do things on my own
So I told her I was going to make my own dinner tonight
Little problem:
I'm not sure what the stove is...
Well, I google imaged it
But nothing that came up
Looked like anything we have in here
So then I google imaged oven
But nothing came up
'U-H-V-E-N'
Ohhhhh...
'O-V-E-N'
Well, where were you
Five hours ago, Dad?
No, I CAN'T use the microwave
I want to make a Thanksgiving turkey
Because Mom thinks I'm an idiot who can't cook
So I'm going to make the hardest thing you can make
Well, I was going to make a souffle
But I couldn't spell that either
And recipes dot com doesn't have a spell check
I have to cook it for HOW long?
What if I turn the oven up REALLY high?
Dad, if you cook it at twice the temperature
It'll cook faster
No wonder I flunked math in junior high
YOU were the one doing my homework
Can't I just put it in the crock pot?
I got stuff to do today
Dad, you can make anything in a crock pot
Even I know that
I've got pancake batter in there right now
Well, I had to eat breakfast before I could have lunch!
You know what, never mind
I'll just order something from the Italian place next door
And scoop it out onto plates
Like you did on your anniversary
When you told Mom you were slaving away all day
In the kitchen
You keep my secrets, old man
I'll keep yours
All right, fine, go back to work
I gotta call 'Anthony's' and get the dinner special
Do you know the number?
Never mind I'll look it up in the phone book
'Anthony' ends with a 'y,' right?
See?
I'm not that stupid
Putting Mom Away
Mother, Carol and I have discussed this
And we feel it's for the best
If you go live a place that's...
...Better suited for you
No, not a...well, not a home, per se
More like a...happy place for people
Who are nearing the end of their lives
Oh, I know, you're only forty-three
But you're already forgetting things
Like when you promised me an IPad for Christmas
And 'forgot' how much it cost
Despite the fact that I taped a photo of it
Onto your windshield
Mom, if that slipped past your mind
I can't imagine what else
Is going to slide through there
Carol wanted me to point out
That you've been getting more aggressive
Just last week you beat up that poor boy
Who was crawling out of her bedroom window
Even though she explained to you
That he was only helping her come up
With a fire evacuation plan
Again, Mom, you 'forgot'
Once you're at the home
You'll be so much happier
Oh, it's not a 'retirement' home, Mother
You're still going to be expected to go to work
How else are you going to send me and Carol money
So we can continue on with our lives?
After all, we don't want your descent into infirmity
Tearing apart the family, now do we?
Carol and I have already planned out a family trip to Vegas
Once you're put away--I mean, safely tucked away
Minus you of course
You'll be busy getting adjusted to your new home
Learning how to play shuffleboard
Figuring out how to use the I-need-my-meds button
Making friends with the nurses
Well, we're going to need the vacation
After suffering the trauma of dropping you off at the home
Seeing your worn-out little forty-three year old face
Staring at us as we drive away
A small river of drool
Gently escaping your cracked lips
Waving at us sadly as the car rounds the bend
The car you never let Carol drive
We'll be devastated, of course
But life goes on, Mother
Life goes on
And we feel it's for the best
If you go live a place that's...
...Better suited for you
No, not a...well, not a home, per se
More like a...happy place for people
Who are nearing the end of their lives
Oh, I know, you're only forty-three
But you're already forgetting things
Like when you promised me an IPad for Christmas
And 'forgot' how much it cost
Despite the fact that I taped a photo of it
Onto your windshield
Mom, if that slipped past your mind
I can't imagine what else
Is going to slide through there
Carol wanted me to point out
That you've been getting more aggressive
Just last week you beat up that poor boy
Who was crawling out of her bedroom window
Even though she explained to you
That he was only helping her come up
With a fire evacuation plan
Again, Mom, you 'forgot'
Once you're at the home
You'll be so much happier
Oh, it's not a 'retirement' home, Mother
You're still going to be expected to go to work
How else are you going to send me and Carol money
So we can continue on with our lives?
After all, we don't want your descent into infirmity
Tearing apart the family, now do we?
Carol and I have already planned out a family trip to Vegas
Once you're put away--I mean, safely tucked away
Minus you of course
You'll be busy getting adjusted to your new home
Learning how to play shuffleboard
Figuring out how to use the I-need-my-meds button
Making friends with the nurses
Well, we're going to need the vacation
After suffering the trauma of dropping you off at the home
Seeing your worn-out little forty-three year old face
Staring at us as we drive away
A small river of drool
Gently escaping your cracked lips
Waving at us sadly as the car rounds the bend
The car you never let Carol drive
We'll be devastated, of course
But life goes on, Mother
Life goes on
When We Turned Blue
When we turned blue
Mom still didn't buy us
The puppy
We sat on the kitchen floor
And held our breath
Until it scurried out of our arms
And landed heaving on the linoleum
'Don't you care that we were going TO DIE?' we ask Mom
But she keeps making bacon
And sayin'
'No puppy'
When we turned blue again
We managed to stay blue
By letting out little gasps of air
And then sucking them back in again
Soon this became a game
And we forgot we weren't supposed to be playing a game
We were supposed to be
Having a breath strike
Mom stepped over us
As we clutched our necks
Begging to be relieved
From this torture
All she had to do was say 'Okay'
And we would be free
To breathe again
The sweet kitchen air
Filled with the smell
Of cooking bacon
But instead she set the plates down
Next to our suffocating bodies
And went upstairs
To make our beds
What a tyrant, she is, we thought
What a cruel, cruel woman
When we turned blue the third time
We actually did pass out
But it wasn't from turning blue
It was from heat exhaustion
The air was off
And the windows were closed
And the heat of the kitchen
Mixed with the sterile texture
Of the linoleum
Sent us into a blue nap
During the nap
We went to a blue landscape
Where there were blue puppies everywhere
Just like the one we wanted
Each of us got one
And we played in the blue fields
And lived in blue houses
And had great big blue picnics
But then the time came
To clean up the blue dog poo
And take the blue dogs for walks
Early in the light blue morning
When we'd much rather be sleeping
And finally the blue dogs
Chewed up all of our blew video games
And that was the final straw
We awoke to find our mother
Waiting for us at the kitchen table
Our bacon waiting patiently
To be eaten
We assumed our seats at the table
And began to eat our breakfast
'Still want that puppy,' she asked
And we quietly shook our heads
And waited for other colors
To return
Mom still didn't buy us
The puppy
We sat on the kitchen floor
And held our breath
Until it scurried out of our arms
And landed heaving on the linoleum
'Don't you care that we were going TO DIE?' we ask Mom
But she keeps making bacon
And sayin'
'No puppy'
When we turned blue again
We managed to stay blue
By letting out little gasps of air
And then sucking them back in again
Soon this became a game
And we forgot we weren't supposed to be playing a game
We were supposed to be
Having a breath strike
Mom stepped over us
As we clutched our necks
Begging to be relieved
From this torture
All she had to do was say 'Okay'
And we would be free
To breathe again
The sweet kitchen air
Filled with the smell
Of cooking bacon
But instead she set the plates down
Next to our suffocating bodies
And went upstairs
To make our beds
What a tyrant, she is, we thought
What a cruel, cruel woman
When we turned blue the third time
We actually did pass out
But it wasn't from turning blue
It was from heat exhaustion
The air was off
And the windows were closed
And the heat of the kitchen
Mixed with the sterile texture
Of the linoleum
Sent us into a blue nap
During the nap
We went to a blue landscape
Where there were blue puppies everywhere
Just like the one we wanted
Each of us got one
And we played in the blue fields
And lived in blue houses
And had great big blue picnics
But then the time came
To clean up the blue dog poo
And take the blue dogs for walks
Early in the light blue morning
When we'd much rather be sleeping
And finally the blue dogs
Chewed up all of our blew video games
And that was the final straw
We awoke to find our mother
Waiting for us at the kitchen table
Our bacon waiting patiently
To be eaten
We assumed our seats at the table
And began to eat our breakfast
'Still want that puppy,' she asked
And we quietly shook our heads
And waited for other colors
To return
Thursday, August 19, 2010
When We Do What We Really Want
When we do what we really want
We feel guilty afterwards
We call people
And talk fast
And try to pace ourselves
So we can run away
From what we just did
We kid ourselves into thinking
That we're merely flinging
And that it's just a thing
It's just a thing that happened
That won't ever happen again
But then before we've reached the end of the week
Our defenses have weakened
To the point where
We forget the guilt
And trip to slip up all over again
When we do what we want
We go exploring in places
We didn't know we even wanted to see
We feel our attractions change
And our reactions to physical attributes
End up shooting off
In a million different directions
Our normal protections break down
Into nothing, into air, into rain
And the pain we feel
Becomes dull
By the dull throbbing
Of the music
Outside the bedroom door
We want more when we do
What we really want
We want more than what we left at home
What we do every day
How we play every night
How we fight and slap
And snap ourselves
Back into everyday ruts
And we don't have the guts
To change it
When we do what we really want
The best part is
It's then we understand
What it is
We really want
We feel guilty afterwards
We call people
And talk fast
And try to pace ourselves
So we can run away
From what we just did
We kid ourselves into thinking
That we're merely flinging
And that it's just a thing
It's just a thing that happened
That won't ever happen again
But then before we've reached the end of the week
Our defenses have weakened
To the point where
We forget the guilt
And trip to slip up all over again
When we do what we want
We go exploring in places
We didn't know we even wanted to see
We feel our attractions change
And our reactions to physical attributes
End up shooting off
In a million different directions
Our normal protections break down
Into nothing, into air, into rain
And the pain we feel
Becomes dull
By the dull throbbing
Of the music
Outside the bedroom door
We want more when we do
What we really want
We want more than what we left at home
What we do every day
How we play every night
How we fight and slap
And snap ourselves
Back into everyday ruts
And we don't have the guts
To change it
When we do what we really want
The best part is
It's then we understand
What it is
We really want
When We Thought We Were Right
When we thought we were right
We would put up invisible poles
And wrap our words around them
To signify that our position
Could stand taller
Than those
Living next to us
We would paint the walls
With our pride
And let it dry
And it wouldn't
And we would wonder why
We would take out books
And look up words
To use as ammunition
In our ongoing war
As if the battle was over
Who has the better vocabulary
The better phrasing
The ideal sentencing
The perfect way of saying 'I'm right'
When we thought we were right
We were sitting around in silence
Looking at our poles
And our wet paint
And our ripped t-shirts
And our televisons have screens
That only work on one side
So one of us watches sports
And the other watches Lifetime
And we're sure that we're right
And because we've taken everything else from each other
We have to hold onto how right we are
And we're right
We are
We're right
And we're drowning
In how right we are
We would put up invisible poles
And wrap our words around them
To signify that our position
Could stand taller
Than those
Living next to us
We would paint the walls
With our pride
And let it dry
And it wouldn't
And we would wonder why
We would take out books
And look up words
To use as ammunition
In our ongoing war
As if the battle was over
Who has the better vocabulary
The better phrasing
The ideal sentencing
The perfect way of saying 'I'm right'
When we thought we were right
We were sitting around in silence
Looking at our poles
And our wet paint
And our ripped t-shirts
And our televisons have screens
That only work on one side
So one of us watches sports
And the other watches Lifetime
And we're sure that we're right
And because we've taken everything else from each other
We have to hold onto how right we are
And we're right
We are
We're right
And we're drowning
In how right we are
When We Were Young
When we were young
There was Sesame Street
Do you still have Sesame Street?
Do you know who Cookie Monster is?
Do you wonder how Bert and Ernie can afford to live in such a spacious apartment when neither of them has a job?
I don't know if you have Sesame Street
That's what we had
When we were young
We had Fraggle Rock
And Rugrats
And Doug
And Snick
And TGIF
We didn't have computers, not really
But we did have Super Nintendo
And regular Nintendo, of course
And Sega, we had Sega
And Sega meant Sonic the Hedgehog
And Mortal Kombat
And if you could beat Mortal Kombat
You were the coolest person ever
Until you did beat it
And then you felt sort of...unfulfilled
That was the thing about our video games
They were winnable
But when you'd win
You'd expect something grand to happen
And nothing ever did
Maybe that's why we all grew up
Feeling so dissatisfied with our achievements
When we were young
We could beat every game
On every level
With only one or two cheat codes
Given to us by a magazine
When we were young
There were no malls in Providence
There was no Waterfire
There was a Thayer Street
But we were certainly not aware of it
Our Friday nights
Consisted of being dropped off at Warwick Mall
So we could walk in and out of shops with our friends
Get someone's older sister's boyfriend
To drive us up the road to the showcase
So we could sneak into a rated-R movie
After having purchased tickets for a movie about a dog that talks and plays baseball
And then after the movie
Running across the four-lane main road
To share an Outback appetizer
Amongst the thirty of us
...And probably not leave a tip
Hey, we were young
When we were young
If you wanted to send a message
To seventeen people at once
You couldn't
You just couldn't
Having a party line was amazing
Having the Disney channel was amazing
Having a girlfriend or boyfriend was life altering
Seeing two kids your own age
Holding hands
Was like witnessing
A public hanging
It was scandalous
When we were young
Sarcasm was a tool
We didn't quite know how to use
Terror was just a word
Just a word like any other word
Terrorism was something
That happened in the eighties
Before Reagan wiped it out
Things were good
Weren't they?
Or am I remembering it wrong?
All I know is that we had Sesame Street
And I would like to find a place for us and you
To meet
So can we meet there?
Can we meet on Sesame Street?
Do you have Sesame Street?
Because there's so much you have
That we didn't have
And yet there's so much you don't have
That we did
We had just enough technology to make us feel like we were in the future
Without so much of it that we felt like we were disconnected from the present
Do you feel that?
Can you feel that?
And more importantly
Do you have Sesame Street?
. . . . .
Okay
Well...
Then maybe we have more in common
Than I thought we did
There was Sesame Street
Do you still have Sesame Street?
Do you know who Cookie Monster is?
Do you wonder how Bert and Ernie can afford to live in such a spacious apartment when neither of them has a job?
I don't know if you have Sesame Street
That's what we had
When we were young
We had Fraggle Rock
And Rugrats
And Doug
And Snick
And TGIF
We didn't have computers, not really
But we did have Super Nintendo
And regular Nintendo, of course
And Sega, we had Sega
And Sega meant Sonic the Hedgehog
And Mortal Kombat
And if you could beat Mortal Kombat
You were the coolest person ever
Until you did beat it
And then you felt sort of...unfulfilled
That was the thing about our video games
They were winnable
But when you'd win
You'd expect something grand to happen
And nothing ever did
Maybe that's why we all grew up
Feeling so dissatisfied with our achievements
When we were young
We could beat every game
On every level
With only one or two cheat codes
Given to us by a magazine
When we were young
There were no malls in Providence
There was no Waterfire
There was a Thayer Street
But we were certainly not aware of it
Our Friday nights
Consisted of being dropped off at Warwick Mall
So we could walk in and out of shops with our friends
Get someone's older sister's boyfriend
To drive us up the road to the showcase
So we could sneak into a rated-R movie
After having purchased tickets for a movie about a dog that talks and plays baseball
And then after the movie
Running across the four-lane main road
To share an Outback appetizer
Amongst the thirty of us
...And probably not leave a tip
Hey, we were young
When we were young
If you wanted to send a message
To seventeen people at once
You couldn't
You just couldn't
Having a party line was amazing
Having the Disney channel was amazing
Having a girlfriend or boyfriend was life altering
Seeing two kids your own age
Holding hands
Was like witnessing
A public hanging
It was scandalous
When we were young
Sarcasm was a tool
We didn't quite know how to use
Terror was just a word
Just a word like any other word
Terrorism was something
That happened in the eighties
Before Reagan wiped it out
Things were good
Weren't they?
Or am I remembering it wrong?
All I know is that we had Sesame Street
And I would like to find a place for us and you
To meet
So can we meet there?
Can we meet on Sesame Street?
Do you have Sesame Street?
Because there's so much you have
That we didn't have
And yet there's so much you don't have
That we did
We had just enough technology to make us feel like we were in the future
Without so much of it that we felt like we were disconnected from the present
Do you feel that?
Can you feel that?
And more importantly
Do you have Sesame Street?
. . . . .
Okay
Well...
Then maybe we have more in common
Than I thought we did
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
When We Thought We Were Immortal
When we thought we were immortal
We thought nothing of running up the rocks
Where the jagged edges point at each other
And seem to be threatening each other
With collision
We would grab onto each other
And free fall into the ocean
Where hands would come up
And sweep us back onto shore
Playfully patting us on the back
As they left us laughing into the sweet sand
Daring us to come back and try again
When we thought we were invincible
We could grab at the air
And use it like a ladder
To climb up into the clouds
We would throw down thunder at each other
And it would make us dance and thrust our bodies out with joy
But never scare us
Never make us think
We could be harmed
And rain was nectar
And night was sugar
And sunlight was something you could capture
In the flimsiest of cages
To take out when you felt like it
To tame when darkness would come
So that it would snap at it like a guard dog
And keep it at bay
When we thought we were untouchable
We would touch each other
And leave marks
That showed appreciation
Instead of bruises and scars
It was only after they told us
That we could be harmed
That we started seeing the welts
And the pockmarks
And the piercings
It was only then that the water kept us
And the jagged rocks collided
And the air stopped pulling us up into it
It was only then that we wanted to harm ourselves
And each other
And become stone
And scrape away at the sand
Until we found something that we couldn't leave impressions in
It wasn't until we knew
That we found ourselves
To be stupid
Stupid children
Playing games
That would cost them
Their lives
Good thing they know now, they would say
But what?
What did we know?
And how did it help?
Such a shame, we thought
Had we never known we weren't immortal
We might have lived forever
We thought nothing of running up the rocks
Where the jagged edges point at each other
And seem to be threatening each other
With collision
We would grab onto each other
And free fall into the ocean
Where hands would come up
And sweep us back onto shore
Playfully patting us on the back
As they left us laughing into the sweet sand
Daring us to come back and try again
When we thought we were invincible
We could grab at the air
And use it like a ladder
To climb up into the clouds
We would throw down thunder at each other
And it would make us dance and thrust our bodies out with joy
But never scare us
Never make us think
We could be harmed
And rain was nectar
And night was sugar
And sunlight was something you could capture
In the flimsiest of cages
To take out when you felt like it
To tame when darkness would come
So that it would snap at it like a guard dog
And keep it at bay
When we thought we were untouchable
We would touch each other
And leave marks
That showed appreciation
Instead of bruises and scars
It was only after they told us
That we could be harmed
That we started seeing the welts
And the pockmarks
And the piercings
It was only then that the water kept us
And the jagged rocks collided
And the air stopped pulling us up into it
It was only then that we wanted to harm ourselves
And each other
And become stone
And scrape away at the sand
Until we found something that we couldn't leave impressions in
It wasn't until we knew
That we found ourselves
To be stupid
Stupid children
Playing games
That would cost them
Their lives
Good thing they know now, they would say
But what?
What did we know?
And how did it help?
Such a shame, we thought
Had we never known we weren't immortal
We might have lived forever
When We're Laughing
When we're laughing
It's like you never never
Even though we're laughing
In airport bars
Awaiting our flight times
To be announced
We share August memories
And a few drinks
And the titles of books
You told us we should read
That we never read
And never will read
One of us mentions your inability to win at board games
One of us talks about getting lost in New York and winding up in a parade
One of us says 'I loved him'
And we realize
We all did
When we're laughing
We're completing the task
Set out at hand
To reunite
In honor of you
Now you're headed back with us
To our separate destinations
So that we can give you separate burials
And you can finally be a man of the world
But before we do that
We eat pot stickers
And cheese fries
And food that will make us want to throw up
As soon as our respective planes hit turbulence
We gaze out the airport windows
Past the tarmac
Into the city
Where you lived
Before you ceased to live
Where you were young
And where you ate pot stickers
Similar to the ones we're eating
And where you fell in love
With a very nice girl
We had the pleasure of meeting
At your funeral
She thought we were nuts
For laughing during the eulogy
But the priest had a thick Portuguese accent
And we know you would have laughed too
Had you been able to hear it
We were never crying people
We were always laughing
And to honor you
We laughed
When we're laughing
We're looking out onto that city
Wondering if there other parades you got lost in
And other board game nights at the houses of other, newer friends
And other people you loved more than us
We'd like to think we were your forever friends
But the truth is
Until the disease readied itself
For its last great strike
We had been bad about calling or messaging
Or even acknowledging anything was wrong
We told ourselves we'd call when you were better
Because you were going to get better
How could you not?
You certainly weren't going to die
You weren't old enough to die
You were born in July
And one of us was born in June
One of us was older than you
Two of us, even
Three
So how could you die?
How could you be dead?
This didn't make any sense
And one of your new friends
Perhaps a member of the new board game brigade
Approached us at the funeral
And told us you had married that nice girl
Right before you...
You got married
You died
You made love
In a city
We can't even find our way around
That's why we were late to the funeral
That's why we couldn't find the church
That's why we can't spend another minute here
Here is where you died
Here is not where our friend lived
Here is a foreign place
Where adults are
And we are not adults here
Back where we're from, we are
But here we're kids
Looking for our friend
Where is he?
Can anybody tell us where he is?
. . . . .
You wanted us to decide
Where you'd finally wind up
Your girlfriend wife whoever she is
Handed you over to us
In separate containers
One of us will take you to the ocean
One of us will take you to the lake
One of us will scatter you across a field
And one of us will bury you in your old backyard
Which is now just a patch of lawn
Next to a parking lot at the new mall
And while we do this
We'll tell you the jokes you taught us
To show you that we remember
We still remember
But for now we're laughing
At an airport
Waiting for separate flights
And we don't remember things about each other
And we know even less about how things are now
And we may never see each other altogether like this again
And we feel like we failed you
Didn't we?
But for now, we're laughing
And while we laugh
It's not like you never left
It's like you're here
Telling us
Those same old jokes
And we know them all
We still know every word
It's like you never never
Even though we're laughing
In airport bars
Awaiting our flight times
To be announced
We share August memories
And a few drinks
And the titles of books
You told us we should read
That we never read
And never will read
One of us mentions your inability to win at board games
One of us talks about getting lost in New York and winding up in a parade
One of us says 'I loved him'
And we realize
We all did
When we're laughing
We're completing the task
Set out at hand
To reunite
In honor of you
Now you're headed back with us
To our separate destinations
So that we can give you separate burials
And you can finally be a man of the world
But before we do that
We eat pot stickers
And cheese fries
And food that will make us want to throw up
As soon as our respective planes hit turbulence
We gaze out the airport windows
Past the tarmac
Into the city
Where you lived
Before you ceased to live
Where you were young
And where you ate pot stickers
Similar to the ones we're eating
And where you fell in love
With a very nice girl
We had the pleasure of meeting
At your funeral
She thought we were nuts
For laughing during the eulogy
But the priest had a thick Portuguese accent
And we know you would have laughed too
Had you been able to hear it
We were never crying people
We were always laughing
And to honor you
We laughed
When we're laughing
We're looking out onto that city
Wondering if there other parades you got lost in
And other board game nights at the houses of other, newer friends
And other people you loved more than us
We'd like to think we were your forever friends
But the truth is
Until the disease readied itself
For its last great strike
We had been bad about calling or messaging
Or even acknowledging anything was wrong
We told ourselves we'd call when you were better
Because you were going to get better
How could you not?
You certainly weren't going to die
You weren't old enough to die
You were born in July
And one of us was born in June
One of us was older than you
Two of us, even
Three
So how could you die?
How could you be dead?
This didn't make any sense
And one of your new friends
Perhaps a member of the new board game brigade
Approached us at the funeral
And told us you had married that nice girl
Right before you...
You got married
You died
You made love
In a city
We can't even find our way around
That's why we were late to the funeral
That's why we couldn't find the church
That's why we can't spend another minute here
Here is where you died
Here is not where our friend lived
Here is a foreign place
Where adults are
And we are not adults here
Back where we're from, we are
But here we're kids
Looking for our friend
Where is he?
Can anybody tell us where he is?
. . . . .
You wanted us to decide
Where you'd finally wind up
Your girlfriend wife whoever she is
Handed you over to us
In separate containers
One of us will take you to the ocean
One of us will take you to the lake
One of us will scatter you across a field
And one of us will bury you in your old backyard
Which is now just a patch of lawn
Next to a parking lot at the new mall
And while we do this
We'll tell you the jokes you taught us
To show you that we remember
We still remember
But for now we're laughing
At an airport
Waiting for separate flights
And we don't remember things about each other
And we know even less about how things are now
And we may never see each other altogether like this again
And we feel like we failed you
Didn't we?
But for now, we're laughing
And while we laugh
It's not like you never left
It's like you're here
Telling us
Those same old jokes
And we know them all
We still know every word
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
When We Finally Made It to the Rest Stop
When we finally made it to the rest stop
Dad explained to us that we would have five minutes to pee
And that if we couldn't pee in five minutes
Something was seriously wrong with our bladder
And we'd have to be checked out by a local town doctor
Who would probably misdiagnose us
And put us on an unnecessary antibiotic
Which would weaken our immune system
And cause us to catch the plague
He didn't specify which plague
So I thought he meant a locust plague
And Tim thought he meant a plague of frogs
And Tim got excited because he wants a frog as a pet
And that was the moment he decided
To weaken his immune system
And thereby cause the frogs
To rain down on him
This is what happens when you give the Old Testament
To impressionable children
Mom got out at the rest stop
And danced around the gas station
Because the heat had gotten to her
And so she started creating poems
About former lovers she'd had
When she was young and living in New York
Cavorting with pastry chefs
Our mother's youth was a mixture
Of cupcakes and unbridled passion
When we finally made it to the rest stop
I found a hill and climbed it
And looked down upon a hidden city
Where there were green lawns
Freshly trimmed and squared
And general stores
And barbershops
And bakeries
With pastry chefs
That my mother would undoubtedly enjoy
I put my thumb over each house
And soaked up the lives inside the house
So I could bring them back to the car with me
And watch them live out their lives
On my lap while the drive commenced
I imagined seeing birthdays
And graduations
And anniversaries
And perhaps death
And grieving
And sadness
And then from the sky
I would come down
And like God
Give my little people hope
Just by letting them know
I exist
But as soon as I felt myself
Soaking up the lives
Of the little town
At the bottom of the hill
I heard a horn honking
And my Dad was standing behind me
'What are you doing, sweetie?'
I showed him the houses
And he looked sad
They looked like our house
All of them
Down to the freshly cut square lawns
And the lives inside
The happy lives
Unaware that tough times
Are bound to come
Because that's just life
My Dad looked at me and said--
'There's nothing there, honey.'
But I saw the houses
And I saw the lives
And I wanted to say 'No'
They are there
There are possibilities down
At the bottom of that hill
There are people I can help
Things I can control
But my dad just took me back to the car
And sat me down next to Tim
And began to drive
While my mother hummed
Songs from another year
And as we drove away from the rest stop
The frogs began to fall
Dad explained to us that we would have five minutes to pee
And that if we couldn't pee in five minutes
Something was seriously wrong with our bladder
And we'd have to be checked out by a local town doctor
Who would probably misdiagnose us
And put us on an unnecessary antibiotic
Which would weaken our immune system
And cause us to catch the plague
He didn't specify which plague
So I thought he meant a locust plague
And Tim thought he meant a plague of frogs
And Tim got excited because he wants a frog as a pet
And that was the moment he decided
To weaken his immune system
And thereby cause the frogs
To rain down on him
This is what happens when you give the Old Testament
To impressionable children
Mom got out at the rest stop
And danced around the gas station
Because the heat had gotten to her
And so she started creating poems
About former lovers she'd had
When she was young and living in New York
Cavorting with pastry chefs
Our mother's youth was a mixture
Of cupcakes and unbridled passion
When we finally made it to the rest stop
I found a hill and climbed it
And looked down upon a hidden city
Where there were green lawns
Freshly trimmed and squared
And general stores
And barbershops
And bakeries
With pastry chefs
That my mother would undoubtedly enjoy
I put my thumb over each house
And soaked up the lives inside the house
So I could bring them back to the car with me
And watch them live out their lives
On my lap while the drive commenced
I imagined seeing birthdays
And graduations
And anniversaries
And perhaps death
And grieving
And sadness
And then from the sky
I would come down
And like God
Give my little people hope
Just by letting them know
I exist
But as soon as I felt myself
Soaking up the lives
Of the little town
At the bottom of the hill
I heard a horn honking
And my Dad was standing behind me
'What are you doing, sweetie?'
I showed him the houses
And he looked sad
They looked like our house
All of them
Down to the freshly cut square lawns
And the lives inside
The happy lives
Unaware that tough times
Are bound to come
Because that's just life
My Dad looked at me and said--
'There's nothing there, honey.'
But I saw the houses
And I saw the lives
And I wanted to say 'No'
They are there
There are possibilities down
At the bottom of that hill
There are people I can help
Things I can control
But my dad just took me back to the car
And sat me down next to Tim
And began to drive
While my mother hummed
Songs from another year
And as we drove away from the rest stop
The frogs began to fall
When We Could No Longer Fill the Silence
When we could no longer fill the silence
We talked about it
We talked around it
We talked over it
We talked into it
We played a card game
To see who would win
The unwinnable argument
We sat around the theater
And pretended things were fine
We dressed up in costumes
And hung out on fake chairs
Fake because they're made
Specifically to fool people
Into thinking they're chairs
That they're chairs from the sixties
Or the forties or the twenties
The serving trays have to be from World War II
The picnic basket looks too Ohio and not enough North Dakota
The meetings we have become sub-meetings become tangent meetings
Become meetings about the meetings
And how nothing's happening at the meetings
Then we go to our laptops
And bitch about people
In private messages
While sitting next to them
And the whole while we talk
And we express
And we communicate
And we play card games
And we bluff
And we stuff our faces
With junk food and wet kisses
And we're lying by trying not to say
That we're worried about the day when the set has to be struck
Because we'll still be stuck in a July environment
When the guy we like is back in Cali
Tallying tips from a Friday night waiting at Friday's
And we wonder what we can fill the silence with--
Because memories make tiny noises
When they hit the bottom
Of the silence
Because addictions to tv shows and inside jokes
Don't seem to take up enough of our attention
To merit a mention in our phone calls to friends
And when the summer ends
The silence ends
And we can return to the noise
Of the Fall falling into place
But the grace we felt staring at a tide
Turning in, turning out
Walking back up to us
Then swimming out again
The sunlight cresting on the back of a guy
We wish we could ask to stay
Seems like more than you could pray for
Even if you prayed
And right before he played his last show
You talked about it, didn't you?
You talked
You asked
You learned to pray
You asked him to stay
That was it, wasn't it?
Was that it?
We talked about it
We talked around it
We talked over it
We talked into it
We played a card game
To see who would win
The unwinnable argument
We sat around the theater
And pretended things were fine
We dressed up in costumes
And hung out on fake chairs
Fake because they're made
Specifically to fool people
Into thinking they're chairs
That they're chairs from the sixties
Or the forties or the twenties
The serving trays have to be from World War II
The picnic basket looks too Ohio and not enough North Dakota
The meetings we have become sub-meetings become tangent meetings
Become meetings about the meetings
And how nothing's happening at the meetings
Then we go to our laptops
And bitch about people
In private messages
While sitting next to them
And the whole while we talk
And we express
And we communicate
And we play card games
And we bluff
And we stuff our faces
With junk food and wet kisses
And we're lying by trying not to say
That we're worried about the day when the set has to be struck
Because we'll still be stuck in a July environment
When the guy we like is back in Cali
Tallying tips from a Friday night waiting at Friday's
And we wonder what we can fill the silence with--
Because memories make tiny noises
When they hit the bottom
Of the silence
Because addictions to tv shows and inside jokes
Don't seem to take up enough of our attention
To merit a mention in our phone calls to friends
And when the summer ends
The silence ends
And we can return to the noise
Of the Fall falling into place
But the grace we felt staring at a tide
Turning in, turning out
Walking back up to us
Then swimming out again
The sunlight cresting on the back of a guy
We wish we could ask to stay
Seems like more than you could pray for
Even if you prayed
And right before he played his last show
You talked about it, didn't you?
You talked
You asked
You learned to pray
You asked him to stay
That was it, wasn't it?
Was that it?
Sunday, August 15, 2010
When We Eat Banana Pudding
When we eat banana pudding
We know we're about to hear
About who doesn't exist
Mom sits us down
Makes us banana pudding
And explains to us
That Granda
Does not exist
'But we SEE him!'
'Do you, children? Do you really?'
This is the third time
She's told us
Somebody we love
Isn't real
'Auntie Michelle isn't real.'
'But there are photos of her!'
'But have ever actually met her?'
'She lives in Taiwan!'
'We just told you that because we didn't want to ruin your innocence.'
'But we get presents from her. Wait a minute, does that mean Santa's not real?'
'Hahahahaha--of course Santa is real! What kind of monsters do you think we are?'
Santa is real
But the mailman is not
Even though we HAVE seen him
If we had to choose
I guess we'd prefer Santa
Over Auntie Michelle
Since she only sends one present
And Santa sends like twenty
'Is the Easter Bunny real?'
'Yes.'
'Mr. Pete across the street?'
'No.'
'Tooth Fairy?'
'Yes.'
'Miley?'
'She's the opposite of real. She's beyond unreal. She's sub-real. She's below reality.'
What does that even mean?
We don't understand
But we enjoy the banana pudding
'Mom, why did you make up people for us to love?'
And this is where Mom eskimo kisses us
And says to us--
'Because you kids have so much love in you, sometimes adults run out of real places to put it.'
We lick the banana pudding
Off the front and back of the spoon
And ask--
'Do you have less love than we do?'
Our mom thinks about this
'Yes, we do have less love, but all the love we have goes right to you.'
But we don't know about this
Because now we know
That adults make up grandparents
And mailmen
And pop sensations
'How do we know you're not lying,' we ask
And our mom laughs and says--
'You don't'
But even though we know what we now know
We kinda know
She isn't
Because we can taste the love
Even on the back of our spoon
We know we're about to hear
About who doesn't exist
Mom sits us down
Makes us banana pudding
And explains to us
That Granda
Does not exist
'But we SEE him!'
'Do you, children? Do you really?'
This is the third time
She's told us
Somebody we love
Isn't real
'Auntie Michelle isn't real.'
'But there are photos of her!'
'But have ever actually met her?'
'She lives in Taiwan!'
'We just told you that because we didn't want to ruin your innocence.'
'But we get presents from her. Wait a minute, does that mean Santa's not real?'
'Hahahahaha--of course Santa is real! What kind of monsters do you think we are?'
Santa is real
But the mailman is not
Even though we HAVE seen him
If we had to choose
I guess we'd prefer Santa
Over Auntie Michelle
Since she only sends one present
And Santa sends like twenty
'Is the Easter Bunny real?'
'Yes.'
'Mr. Pete across the street?'
'No.'
'Tooth Fairy?'
'Yes.'
'Miley?'
'She's the opposite of real. She's beyond unreal. She's sub-real. She's below reality.'
What does that even mean?
We don't understand
But we enjoy the banana pudding
'Mom, why did you make up people for us to love?'
And this is where Mom eskimo kisses us
And says to us--
'Because you kids have so much love in you, sometimes adults run out of real places to put it.'
We lick the banana pudding
Off the front and back of the spoon
And ask--
'Do you have less love than we do?'
Our mom thinks about this
'Yes, we do have less love, but all the love we have goes right to you.'
But we don't know about this
Because now we know
That adults make up grandparents
And mailmen
And pop sensations
'How do we know you're not lying,' we ask
And our mom laughs and says--
'You don't'
But even though we know what we now know
We kinda know
She isn't
Because we can taste the love
Even on the back of our spoon
When We Went to that Convention
When we went to that convention
We got name tags
With our names
Written in such a way
They didn't look like our names
Suddenly I became Emmy
With a curly 'y' tail
And bumpy lumpy hills of 'm's
And an 'E' that looked more like a three
And for the first time
Looking at my own name
Repulsed me
And you became 'Todd'
With a smiley face 'o'
And extra-long 'd's
And a 'T' that looked way too harsh
Like you're a serial killer or something
Like you're the clown killer
Like your name terrified me
Your scary-ass smiley face 'o'
Struck fear in my heart
These became our names
And our identities
And people who didn't know us
Thought we were dumb and psychotic
When we went to that convention
We stayed in a hotel
Where there was coffee in the lobby
And for some reason
I was overjoyed by this
I have a coffeemaker at home
That I don't use
Won't use
Can't use
Don't have time to use in the morning
When I run out the door
With my hair still wet
I walk downstairs to the lobby
And there's coffee
And I load up a cup
With eight spoonfuls of sugar
And a eyedropper drip of coffee
Because I just want a hint of coffee
And inevitably some asshole goes--
'Do you want coffee with your sugar?'
And I contemplate throwing my coffee at his crotch
But because it is, in fact, mostly sugar
It wouldn't really do much good
I rush into the ballroom
Where our seminar
On 'Intersectional Communication Tools'
Was already in its eighth hour
You were going to be even later than I was
Because we spent all night
In the bar across from the hotel
So as not to run into anyone from the convention
We sang 'Don't Stop Believin' eight times
And everyone yelled 'Glee!'
And it was like we were on 'Glee!'
And not in Journey
Even though Journey is the band
That actually sang the song to begin with
We drank bad beer
And stumbled back to our hotel rooms
Running into a woman on the elevator
Who we would later learn
Was the leader of the 'Intersectional Communication' seminar
And so we would feel extra bad
About pretending to be a dominatrix and her sex slave
While in the elevator with her
I especially regret saying--
'When we get back to the room, remember to put the rubber sheet on the bed. I don't want to have to boob-slap you again.'
When we went to the convention
We both hooked up with nerdy guys
From Van Nuys
Who wanted to marry us
After their first orgasm
We had to take turns
Having sex in the room
So one of us would go to one of the Van Nuys' room
And we would call each other
While they were showering
And swap details on the Van Nuys guys
'Seven?'
'Eight.'
'Shut up.'
'Seriously.'
'Is he--?'
'He's Jewish, Todd.'
'They're not all...'
'Yeah, they are.'
'Sometimes they switch religions.'
'Before that happens? That's a pretty early conversion.'
We laugh and meet up
At the diner down the street
Where we discreetly do impersonations
Of the men we just enjoyed our fornication with
We'll downplay how much we enjoyed it
But the phone numbers will still be in our phones
Under the letters 'VNG'
When we went to that convention
We spent company money
Including our food budget
Most of the food budget
Became a drink budget
And most of the drinks were filled with alcohol
We feel impressed with ourselves at the end of the week
When we realize that we spent a total of $20.00 on food
(Taco Bell is the best thing ever, isn't it? Why is there world hunger when there's a Taco Bell on every corner?)
When we went to that convention
We didn't learn a thing
We went to two or three seminars
Skipped the rest after signing in
Wrote false reports
Peppered with just enough words like--
'Symposium'
'Marketing potential'
And
'Unlimited Expansion'
--to make our boss believe we actually retained the information given to us
We totally wasted our time
A complete week of our lives
Lost at a hotel in suburbia
Where we still managed to find a dive bar
A diner and memories we'll have
Long after we've quit our jobs
In a dramatic and bridge-burning manner
And we'll save our name tags
In little boxes that we go through every few years
When we need a good laugh
And we'll say--
'What was that convention about anyway?'
We got name tags
With our names
Written in such a way
They didn't look like our names
Suddenly I became Emmy
With a curly 'y' tail
And bumpy lumpy hills of 'm's
And an 'E' that looked more like a three
And for the first time
Looking at my own name
Repulsed me
And you became 'Todd'
With a smiley face 'o'
And extra-long 'd's
And a 'T' that looked way too harsh
Like you're a serial killer or something
Like you're the clown killer
Like your name terrified me
Your scary-ass smiley face 'o'
Struck fear in my heart
These became our names
And our identities
And people who didn't know us
Thought we were dumb and psychotic
When we went to that convention
We stayed in a hotel
Where there was coffee in the lobby
And for some reason
I was overjoyed by this
I have a coffeemaker at home
That I don't use
Won't use
Can't use
Don't have time to use in the morning
When I run out the door
With my hair still wet
I walk downstairs to the lobby
And there's coffee
And I load up a cup
With eight spoonfuls of sugar
And a eyedropper drip of coffee
Because I just want a hint of coffee
And inevitably some asshole goes--
'Do you want coffee with your sugar?'
And I contemplate throwing my coffee at his crotch
But because it is, in fact, mostly sugar
It wouldn't really do much good
I rush into the ballroom
Where our seminar
On 'Intersectional Communication Tools'
Was already in its eighth hour
You were going to be even later than I was
Because we spent all night
In the bar across from the hotel
So as not to run into anyone from the convention
We sang 'Don't Stop Believin' eight times
And everyone yelled 'Glee!'
And it was like we were on 'Glee!'
And not in Journey
Even though Journey is the band
That actually sang the song to begin with
We drank bad beer
And stumbled back to our hotel rooms
Running into a woman on the elevator
Who we would later learn
Was the leader of the 'Intersectional Communication' seminar
And so we would feel extra bad
About pretending to be a dominatrix and her sex slave
While in the elevator with her
I especially regret saying--
'When we get back to the room, remember to put the rubber sheet on the bed. I don't want to have to boob-slap you again.'
When we went to the convention
We both hooked up with nerdy guys
From Van Nuys
Who wanted to marry us
After their first orgasm
We had to take turns
Having sex in the room
So one of us would go to one of the Van Nuys' room
And we would call each other
While they were showering
And swap details on the Van Nuys guys
'Seven?'
'Eight.'
'Shut up.'
'Seriously.'
'Is he--?'
'He's Jewish, Todd.'
'They're not all...'
'Yeah, they are.'
'Sometimes they switch religions.'
'Before that happens? That's a pretty early conversion.'
We laugh and meet up
At the diner down the street
Where we discreetly do impersonations
Of the men we just enjoyed our fornication with
We'll downplay how much we enjoyed it
But the phone numbers will still be in our phones
Under the letters 'VNG'
When we went to that convention
We spent company money
Including our food budget
Most of the food budget
Became a drink budget
And most of the drinks were filled with alcohol
We feel impressed with ourselves at the end of the week
When we realize that we spent a total of $20.00 on food
(Taco Bell is the best thing ever, isn't it? Why is there world hunger when there's a Taco Bell on every corner?)
When we went to that convention
We didn't learn a thing
We went to two or three seminars
Skipped the rest after signing in
Wrote false reports
Peppered with just enough words like--
'Symposium'
'Marketing potential'
And
'Unlimited Expansion'
--to make our boss believe we actually retained the information given to us
We totally wasted our time
A complete week of our lives
Lost at a hotel in suburbia
Where we still managed to find a dive bar
A diner and memories we'll have
Long after we've quit our jobs
In a dramatic and bridge-burning manner
And we'll save our name tags
In little boxes that we go through every few years
When we need a good laugh
And we'll say--
'What was that convention about anyway?'
Play Signed, Sealed, Delivered
They're going to shut the electricity off
We have about two hours
Before we are going to be sitting
In a house of darkness
A house we will probably not be living in much longer
Because the mortgage hasn't been paid
And will not be paid
Anytime soon
The phone's been shut off
The food supply is running low
The kids are in the next room
Trying not to cry
So you know what I say we do?
Play signed, sealed, delivered
Because before they turn the lights off
I want to dance around this house
Like happy people would
Because I can still dance
Because I can still walk
Because I can still laugh
If I force myself to
Because even though I can't get a job
I can still get myself up out of this chair
And end this little pity party
And act like everything's fine
Just like the rest of the world is
I can still take my wife in my arms
And feel her in those arms
And know she's healthy
And strong
And tough
And that means we'll get through this
I can still get the kids
And make them scrambled eggs
And convince them they'll be fine
Because they will be
Because they got two parents
Who love them
And that's two more parents
Than most kids have
And that's two more healthy, happy kids
That most parents have
And even though we're not lucky
We're all still in love
And as long as we are
And as long as we have two hours left
I'm going to play Stevie Wonder
And drag the last bits of joy
Out of this house
And decorate the kitchen with it
So go put 'Signed, Sealed, Delivered' on
While I find something to burn in the fireplace
To keep us warm
Hey, we haven't opened this box yet
That came in the mail today
It's from some guy named Gabriel
Let me crack it open
Maybe it's something
We could use
We have about two hours
Before we are going to be sitting
In a house of darkness
A house we will probably not be living in much longer
Because the mortgage hasn't been paid
And will not be paid
Anytime soon
The phone's been shut off
The food supply is running low
The kids are in the next room
Trying not to cry
So you know what I say we do?
Play signed, sealed, delivered
Because before they turn the lights off
I want to dance around this house
Like happy people would
Because I can still dance
Because I can still walk
Because I can still laugh
If I force myself to
Because even though I can't get a job
I can still get myself up out of this chair
And end this little pity party
And act like everything's fine
Just like the rest of the world is
I can still take my wife in my arms
And feel her in those arms
And know she's healthy
And strong
And tough
And that means we'll get through this
I can still get the kids
And make them scrambled eggs
And convince them they'll be fine
Because they will be
Because they got two parents
Who love them
And that's two more parents
Than most kids have
And that's two more healthy, happy kids
That most parents have
And even though we're not lucky
We're all still in love
And as long as we are
And as long as we have two hours left
I'm going to play Stevie Wonder
And drag the last bits of joy
Out of this house
And decorate the kitchen with it
So go put 'Signed, Sealed, Delivered' on
While I find something to burn in the fireplace
To keep us warm
Hey, we haven't opened this box yet
That came in the mail today
It's from some guy named Gabriel
Let me crack it open
Maybe it's something
We could use
The Opposite of Luck
Laura looks at the money
Six years since she last gambled
Six years since she stepped foot inside a casino
Six years since she showed up at her mother's house
Shaking so badly you'd think she'd gone for a February swim
And all because she went through eight grand in two hours
Laura looks at the money
A box full of money
From someone named Gabriel
It was probably one of her old betting buddies
Under an assumed name
Trying to get her back into the mix
Every once in awhile
They sent little cards
Stuffed animals
A seal with a pair of sunglasses
And a full house
Looking coy
But never money
Never anything like this
Was it real?
Was it real money?
...Her keys were on the dining room table...
'Ma, you all right?'
Benny was up in his room
She was supposed to go up
And help him find his basketball jersey
Before the game at six
'Benny, I told you, it's probably in your brother's room. He uses it to do the dishes with!'
'GROSS!'
Not really, she though, he doesn't do the dishes that often
Benny and Jay were kids
Just kids
Six years ago
When she hit bottom
And kept going
Now she never kept too much money around
She didn't have a debit card
She didn't keep lots of change
Any extra cash she had stayed with her mom
And she asked her for some whenever she needed it
'And what do you need it for, Laura?'
'Ma--'
'You asked me to do this.'
'I know, I know.'
'I don't like it either, but you asked.'
'I know.'
'What do you need it for?'
'I'm getting my nails done.'
'That much to get your nails done?'
'I'm going somewhere nice, Ma.'
'Come show me your nails after, all right?'
'All right, Ma.'
'Then go to your meeting.'
'All right.'
The meetings were strange
Meetings revolving around an invisible addiction
Everyone in the room
Looking like retired spies
Nobody with scars
Nobody with track marks
Nobody with physical shame
Just a bunch of people
Who couldn't keep their hands
Out of their pockets
Her brother Christian was a junkie
Who died of an overdose
When she was eleven
Six years later on his birthday
She played her first game of cards
And won sixty dollars
From her boyfriend and his friends
She thought it was luck
Later on she realized
That winning when you're a gambler
Is the opposite of luck
It's a victory just small enough
In the grand scheme of things
To keep you locked into the addiction
The rush is the same rush
Her brother probably felt
Right before he passed out on his friend's carpet
At four o'clock in the morning
Who dies on a Sunday?
People don't die on Sunday
She found her mother saying this in her living room
When she woke up that day
Ready to go to her dance recital
'That much to get your nails done?'
Six years after that she was the one on the carpet
This time her mother's
Crying into the red wine stain
Holding her stomach
Feeling like she was going to empty it
Like she'd emptied her bank account
And she owed more
She owed even more than that
Her mom got on the phone
And called her uncle
And two hours later
The phone rang
Letting her know
That the debt was absolved
She didn't know what her uncle did
But he was the kind of guy
Who could make your stomach feel better
Provided you shared the same blood
Her mom got down on the carpet with her
And held her
But when she spoke
There was an intensity in her voice
That shook Laura's entire body
'You will'
She said
'Get help'
She knew this was making her mom think of Christian
She knew what she was thinking
Another fucked up kid
Another Sunday morning phone call
And two grandkids in the next room
Sleeping over at Grandma's house
Thinking everything's fine
'You will'
She said
'Get help'
Footsteps down the staircase
'Ma, the jersey smells like ass!'
'Benny!'
'Butt, it smells like butt.'
She could tell the time
Drop him off at the game
Drop Jay off at his friend's house
Forty-five minutes to the casino
She could double this in an hour
People think when you speak like that
You're not aware that you could lose it all too
You're aware
But just like you tell yourself that a pizza won't ruin your diet
Or a drink won't ruin your sobriety
Or laying down on your friend's carpet
Won't mean your mother gets a phone call
Saying you never woke up
You don't believe it
You're aware of it
But you don't believe in it
That's how the gambling wins
The funny thing about someone obsessed with winning
Is that they never realize they're not winning
Only the gambling wins
It's the opposite of luck
'Hey Ma, what's in the box?'
She took Benny to his game
She took Jay to his friend's house
And she drove to her mom's
When she walked in the living room
Her mom was sitting on the couch
Watching some old Paul Newman movie on AMC
She put the box down on the coffee table
'What's that?'
'Money'
Her mother stood up
'I didn't win it.'
'Then where'd you get it?'
'Someone sent it to me.'
'Jesus, Laura.'
'I'm telling the truth.'
'Yeah, next you're going to tell me you need another manicure.'
Laura picked up the box
And shook its contents
Onto the carpet
Right near the red wine stain
'It's yours now.'
Her mother picked up a wad of it
And threw it at her
It hit her like leaves in the wind
And fell back to the ground
As her mom screamed at her
'I DON'T WANT IT!'
She started kicking the piles of money
Making it swirl up like a green tornado
In the middle of the room
'I DON'T WANT THIS IN MY HOUSE!'
She fell down onto the carpet
And Laura could see what her mother saw
Money is blood and drugs
And weakness is addiction
And gambling is Laura
And drugs was Christian
And luck was a myth
Luck got your killed
Because every time Christian shot up and stayed alive
He thought he was lucky
Every time Laura played and won
She thought it was luck
And every time her mother let them leave the house
And they came back
Looking merely startled
By what they saw
But not traumatized
She thought it was luck
But it wasn't
It was the opposite of luck
And a man sending you a box of money?
What was that?
Her mother knew what it was
And she didn't want it
And when Laura saw it
Spread out over the carpet
She knew what it was too
. . . . .
She sealed up the box
Covered over her own address
With a big black magic marker
Then she covered it up
With a piece of white paper
Taped over the marking
She took out the phonebook
Found a Gabriel in it
And wrote down his address
Then she mailed it back
Maybe it wasn't the same Gabriel
But it didn't matter
Whoever got the money
Might need it
But she didn't
She had her two kids
She had a house that was nowhere near paid off
She had her mom
She had a photo of her brother on her nightstand
She had six years
Six hard-fought years
And she had a meeting to go to
And that was luck
That was real luck
Six years since she last gambled
Six years since she stepped foot inside a casino
Six years since she showed up at her mother's house
Shaking so badly you'd think she'd gone for a February swim
And all because she went through eight grand in two hours
Laura looks at the money
A box full of money
From someone named Gabriel
It was probably one of her old betting buddies
Under an assumed name
Trying to get her back into the mix
Every once in awhile
They sent little cards
Stuffed animals
A seal with a pair of sunglasses
And a full house
Looking coy
But never money
Never anything like this
Was it real?
Was it real money?
...Her keys were on the dining room table...
'Ma, you all right?'
Benny was up in his room
She was supposed to go up
And help him find his basketball jersey
Before the game at six
'Benny, I told you, it's probably in your brother's room. He uses it to do the dishes with!'
'GROSS!'
Not really, she though, he doesn't do the dishes that often
Benny and Jay were kids
Just kids
Six years ago
When she hit bottom
And kept going
Now she never kept too much money around
She didn't have a debit card
She didn't keep lots of change
Any extra cash she had stayed with her mom
And she asked her for some whenever she needed it
'And what do you need it for, Laura?'
'Ma--'
'You asked me to do this.'
'I know, I know.'
'I don't like it either, but you asked.'
'I know.'
'What do you need it for?'
'I'm getting my nails done.'
'That much to get your nails done?'
'I'm going somewhere nice, Ma.'
'Come show me your nails after, all right?'
'All right, Ma.'
'Then go to your meeting.'
'All right.'
The meetings were strange
Meetings revolving around an invisible addiction
Everyone in the room
Looking like retired spies
Nobody with scars
Nobody with track marks
Nobody with physical shame
Just a bunch of people
Who couldn't keep their hands
Out of their pockets
Her brother Christian was a junkie
Who died of an overdose
When she was eleven
Six years later on his birthday
She played her first game of cards
And won sixty dollars
From her boyfriend and his friends
She thought it was luck
Later on she realized
That winning when you're a gambler
Is the opposite of luck
It's a victory just small enough
In the grand scheme of things
To keep you locked into the addiction
The rush is the same rush
Her brother probably felt
Right before he passed out on his friend's carpet
At four o'clock in the morning
Who dies on a Sunday?
People don't die on Sunday
She found her mother saying this in her living room
When she woke up that day
Ready to go to her dance recital
'That much to get your nails done?'
Six years after that she was the one on the carpet
This time her mother's
Crying into the red wine stain
Holding her stomach
Feeling like she was going to empty it
Like she'd emptied her bank account
And she owed more
She owed even more than that
Her mom got on the phone
And called her uncle
And two hours later
The phone rang
Letting her know
That the debt was absolved
She didn't know what her uncle did
But he was the kind of guy
Who could make your stomach feel better
Provided you shared the same blood
Her mom got down on the carpet with her
And held her
But when she spoke
There was an intensity in her voice
That shook Laura's entire body
'You will'
She said
'Get help'
She knew this was making her mom think of Christian
She knew what she was thinking
Another fucked up kid
Another Sunday morning phone call
And two grandkids in the next room
Sleeping over at Grandma's house
Thinking everything's fine
'You will'
She said
'Get help'
Footsteps down the staircase
'Ma, the jersey smells like ass!'
'Benny!'
'Butt, it smells like butt.'
She could tell the time
Drop him off at the game
Drop Jay off at his friend's house
Forty-five minutes to the casino
She could double this in an hour
People think when you speak like that
You're not aware that you could lose it all too
You're aware
But just like you tell yourself that a pizza won't ruin your diet
Or a drink won't ruin your sobriety
Or laying down on your friend's carpet
Won't mean your mother gets a phone call
Saying you never woke up
You don't believe it
You're aware of it
But you don't believe in it
That's how the gambling wins
The funny thing about someone obsessed with winning
Is that they never realize they're not winning
Only the gambling wins
It's the opposite of luck
'Hey Ma, what's in the box?'
She took Benny to his game
She took Jay to his friend's house
And she drove to her mom's
When she walked in the living room
Her mom was sitting on the couch
Watching some old Paul Newman movie on AMC
She put the box down on the coffee table
'What's that?'
'Money'
Her mother stood up
'I didn't win it.'
'Then where'd you get it?'
'Someone sent it to me.'
'Jesus, Laura.'
'I'm telling the truth.'
'Yeah, next you're going to tell me you need another manicure.'
Laura picked up the box
And shook its contents
Onto the carpet
Right near the red wine stain
'It's yours now.'
Her mother picked up a wad of it
And threw it at her
It hit her like leaves in the wind
And fell back to the ground
As her mom screamed at her
'I DON'T WANT IT!'
She started kicking the piles of money
Making it swirl up like a green tornado
In the middle of the room
'I DON'T WANT THIS IN MY HOUSE!'
She fell down onto the carpet
And Laura could see what her mother saw
Money is blood and drugs
And weakness is addiction
And gambling is Laura
And drugs was Christian
And luck was a myth
Luck got your killed
Because every time Christian shot up and stayed alive
He thought he was lucky
Every time Laura played and won
She thought it was luck
And every time her mother let them leave the house
And they came back
Looking merely startled
By what they saw
But not traumatized
She thought it was luck
But it wasn't
It was the opposite of luck
And a man sending you a box of money?
What was that?
Her mother knew what it was
And she didn't want it
And when Laura saw it
Spread out over the carpet
She knew what it was too
. . . . .
She sealed up the box
Covered over her own address
With a big black magic marker
Then she covered it up
With a piece of white paper
Taped over the marking
She took out the phonebook
Found a Gabriel in it
And wrote down his address
Then she mailed it back
Maybe it wasn't the same Gabriel
But it didn't matter
Whoever got the money
Might need it
But she didn't
She had her two kids
She had a house that was nowhere near paid off
She had her mom
She had a photo of her brother on her nightstand
She had six years
Six hard-fought years
And she had a meeting to go to
And that was luck
That was real luck
Friday, August 13, 2010
Sammy's Back at Billy's Bar
Back at Billy's bar
Sammy's buying drinks tonight
Because Sammy just found out he's rich
He found out his wife is banging another guy
And he found out he ain't a man
But when you're rich
You don't need to be a man
You just need to know who to buy and sell
Sammy was in here last night
Getting told off
By the man his wife has been screwing
On the side
Guy tried to teach Sammy how to play cards
And when he was done
He tossed Sammy out on his ass
And told him not to come back
Sammy wound up on some park bench
Outside the gallery downtown
Talking to some old guy
Like he was consulting Yoda
He ended up spending the night on the bench
Until the police kicked him in the ass the next day
Told him to get a move on
When he got home
He found his wife
About to go through his mail
And for the first time in his life
He stood up for himself
Told her he was going to open his own mail
As long as he was still a person
And not just some name with an address underneath it
So she tossed the box at him
And told him to go screw
Then Sammy opened that box
From some guy named Gabriel
Who must be some dead relative of his or something
And there was all that money
Bills and bills and bills and bills
And not the kind you pay
The kind that pay you
And Sammy walked into the bedroom
Where his Queen of Bernard Street
Was sitting on the bed
Ready to paint her nails
And he said--'Hey baby, I'm gonna go screw'
And he held up about two grand of the money
And said--
'I'm gonna go screw that boyfriend of yours into the fucking ground.'
And that's when Sammy came back to Billy's bar
But this time he didn't come back alone
He hired seventeen of the neighborhood kids
To walk in with him
But none of them were of age
So the owner wouldn't let them in
They stayed outside
And cheered
While Sammy made the bastard
Eat all the cards
He taught him to play with yesterday
Imagine trying to shit out a three of diamonds?
That's gotta leave you hurting
Once he was done eating the cards
Sammy threw the bum out the door
And let the angry underage mob have him
Then he bought everybody a round
And filled up the jukebox
So it was playing all night
I never saw Sammy so happy, man
And you wanna know something?
I don't think it was the money either
I think it was the idea
That somebody gave enough of a shit about Sammy
To send him a box full of money
When a man's been unlucky his whole life
A little bit of luck
Can make him feel like
Maybe he oughta step out into the world
Like maybe he can actually push life a little
And not have life push back
All of a sudden, there he was
Little Sammy
The kid that used to get the shit kicked out of him
Every day outside the gym
By everybody in that bar
And there he was slapping people on the back
Saying 'No hard feeling, fellas'
'No hard feelings'
It's true
Money don't change you
But Sammy didn't need changing anyway
He was always a good guy
He just needed a little cash in his pocket
Sammy's buying drinks tonight
Because Sammy just found out he's rich
He found out his wife is banging another guy
And he found out he ain't a man
But when you're rich
You don't need to be a man
You just need to know who to buy and sell
Sammy was in here last night
Getting told off
By the man his wife has been screwing
On the side
Guy tried to teach Sammy how to play cards
And when he was done
He tossed Sammy out on his ass
And told him not to come back
Sammy wound up on some park bench
Outside the gallery downtown
Talking to some old guy
Like he was consulting Yoda
He ended up spending the night on the bench
Until the police kicked him in the ass the next day
Told him to get a move on
When he got home
He found his wife
About to go through his mail
And for the first time in his life
He stood up for himself
Told her he was going to open his own mail
As long as he was still a person
And not just some name with an address underneath it
So she tossed the box at him
And told him to go screw
Then Sammy opened that box
From some guy named Gabriel
Who must be some dead relative of his or something
And there was all that money
Bills and bills and bills and bills
And not the kind you pay
The kind that pay you
And Sammy walked into the bedroom
Where his Queen of Bernard Street
Was sitting on the bed
Ready to paint her nails
And he said--'Hey baby, I'm gonna go screw'
And he held up about two grand of the money
And said--
'I'm gonna go screw that boyfriend of yours into the fucking ground.'
And that's when Sammy came back to Billy's bar
But this time he didn't come back alone
He hired seventeen of the neighborhood kids
To walk in with him
But none of them were of age
So the owner wouldn't let them in
They stayed outside
And cheered
While Sammy made the bastard
Eat all the cards
He taught him to play with yesterday
Imagine trying to shit out a three of diamonds?
That's gotta leave you hurting
Once he was done eating the cards
Sammy threw the bum out the door
And let the angry underage mob have him
Then he bought everybody a round
And filled up the jukebox
So it was playing all night
I never saw Sammy so happy, man
And you wanna know something?
I don't think it was the money either
I think it was the idea
That somebody gave enough of a shit about Sammy
To send him a box full of money
When a man's been unlucky his whole life
A little bit of luck
Can make him feel like
Maybe he oughta step out into the world
Like maybe he can actually push life a little
And not have life push back
All of a sudden, there he was
Little Sammy
The kid that used to get the shit kicked out of him
Every day outside the gym
By everybody in that bar
And there he was slapping people on the back
Saying 'No hard feeling, fellas'
'No hard feelings'
It's true
Money don't change you
But Sammy didn't need changing anyway
He was always a good guy
He just needed a little cash in his pocket
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