—MARY BOONE, MARY BOONE, I’M ON THE DARK SIDE OF THE MOON 

 

… https://nailpolishstories.wordpress.com/?fbclid=IwZXh0bgNhZW0CMTEAAR05FtEwM9vsJVfyvjjxy6NY5Gf3fRQWC1h71-2lJmt2B9BmNLHz9QoZcxs_aem_AdlGodweYczWAa9nchPemrN2nKKGJYUy91g_2u6-KF2UXIvFk9lEqI5Wleaz_8VaybRMjKWeRFG2pa7NE8PSv7RO

 

…Now might be a good time to turn on the lights.

 

…Hey, Friday, I’m glad we made up. Let’s be teenagers, kiss and hug, and not talk a bit about it.

 

…Maybe happiness is just a fuge state of mind.

 

…I haven’t written this much in 40 years, or like, for forever.

 

…Death could be a prompt. At least, then it’s good for something other than misery.

 

…My life feels like a heart monitor with the sound turned off.

 

…You have to realize that I just vent here. I’m otherwise, generally, a hopeful person.

 

…You can do what you’re doing, but I’m just going to watch the dogs leap into the water.

 

…I don’t begrudge anyone making money, but there’s something wrong with this: “Netflix’s Ted Sarandos 2023 Pay Dips to $49.8 million.” And this: “Warner Bros. Discovery CEO David Zaslav’s 2023 Compensation Rises 23% to Nearly $50 Million.”

 

…I’ve seen the Ant-Christ, and I recognize his slouch.

 

…There’s nothing you could do to make me love you less.

 

…All of those fancy jackets, hanging in the hall like Senators, they mean nothing at all. 

 

…You think of your closet friends, when you’re caught in a tight space, but some of those cervices, well, dude, you’re never getting out of that jam no matter how hard you struggle.

 

…One of my best friends is a juggler. He takes it seriously and, by all accounts, is accomplished.  I wish I could catch half of the things he does.

 

…Sometimes, if you’re brave enough, you share your writing with others, not wanting any feedback, necessarily. But if it scared them, well, maybe you’ve dug into the right place.

 

...Pleasure is such an obscure word. Could you explain it to me?

 

…It’s really good to have a place to hang your head, even if it’s on the tracks, or on a platter.

 

…Isn’t sadness a form of beauty, too?

 

...If you’re looking for answers here, well, Good luck, Chuck.

 

…I think I’m almost through with it. Of course, I’ve said that a thousand times already, haven’t I? 

 

…Just hug the ones you love, even if you have no words at the time.

 

…One of these days I’ll write a happy ending and it’ll be a joke that no one gets.

 

…II suppose that guy in camo paddling down the lake right now has something profound to teach me. I sure hope so.

 

…I’ve edited the F*#@+ out of this post.

 

…Anyway, let’s all have a fabulous weekend, what do you say?

 

—I KNOW THAT WALLS FALL, SHACKS SHAKE, BRIDGES BURN AND BODIES BREAK

 

Match Fire

 

In the trailer

Mother always made sure

we were chilled eyesores

our hollow bones rattling around 

like dull castanets from

the deep freeze

So we turned to fire for a fix

first tossing matches at one another

moving onto Molotov cocktails

torches blowtorches and 

eventually flamethrowers 

where our aim improved

We singed and melted

like ripe gargoyles

all of us putty brothers with

no more time for fist fights 

or bloodletting

us just a pile of flat sludge 

oozing through the door seam

painting each step with 

the triumph of warmth and

our shared obituaries  

—IN A QUIET MOMENT AT THE THEATER, I COULD HEAR THE TRAIN  

 

 

…It’s easy to see the beginning of things but a lot harder to see the ends.

 

…Should you apologize for not expressing more grief? Maybe, but not if it’s not eating you inside out, stealing your words and taking your breath away.

 

…My watch is like, “Take a 20 minute walk” and I’m like, “No, you fucking take a 20 minute walk.”

 

…What kind of guy gets chippy with their watch? Oh, yeah.

 

…When you’re young, you do so many things to be noticed, but when you’re older you think about how silly and artificial you were, how being noticed doesn’t matter at all in the end.

 

…Slide to release.

 

…Sometimes it’s easier to put off the people you love rather than tell them the real story.

 

…When people die, you learn a lot about the character of others. 

 

…I’ve been reading Steve Almond’s new craft book (which is excellent) where he implores writers to write about their obsessions, but it feels like I’ve doing that waaayyyyyy too much.

 

…So far, as I’m writing this, it’s my third straight day without crying. I don’t know if that’s a good thing, or whether I should be ashamed.

 

…Thanks so much for asking. Oh wait, you didn’t.

 

…If you don’t learn to adjust, you learn to die.

 

…You can write something and it doesn’t mean anything at all to you, then you can write something else and it means everything.

 

…You can only pluck so many grey lashes from your eyebrows until you have none left.

 

…The worst out is number three.

 

…Seems like the only thing that grows on me anymore are my fingernails—pale and striated.

 

…Our first Christmas!

 

…The burden of hope is really all we have.

 

…Silence is deadly. It makes you consider any number of things.

 

…“I think I got a little mushroom in my eye.”

 

…When it’s late and you’ve got nothing else going on, it’s always a good call to play “Too Much Heaven” or else “Nightswimming.”

 

…I still hear John every day, like he’s still alive saying, “Doesn’t it feel like you were born for this?”

 

…We laugh to keep from wallowing. And sometimes that’s enough. 

 

…“You should try suicide. It works!”

 

…I don’t have a lot of answers, but I sure as hell have a lot of questions.

 

…It’s all fiction, unless you don’t want it to be.

 

…I’d like to think I’m the kind of person who can laugh at himself, but it’s been a while since that’s happened.

 

…It doesn’t make sense—where are all of the boats?

 

…What’s with all these ads for apps that let you track your sleep? Most of the time I’d rather forget what I’m dreaming about. 

 

…On a walk the other day right here on Wonderland Road, four deer flew by me on my left, the very picture of grace in motion.

 

…It’s really something to see this dog run across the dock, plunge into the lake, then grab that water toy. Pure entertainment. I could watch him all day.

 

…They say the hardest thing to do in sports is to hit a baseball, and yet there are a number of successful switch-hitters.  

 

…It may not seem like it, but I’m always looking at you.

 

...God, if I could just be…

 

…I’ll probably still be here next week, moaning over the same things.  

 

…It’s near the end, but I’ve still got a long ways to go. 

 

 

—I WISH I’D STAYED ASLEEP TODAY

 

 

Trafficked

 

Pose. Just pose and don’t think about the sun glare or the moon going down later or the noise down the hall that sounds like shattered crystal. Pose and pull a second button free, puff out your chest some more, inhale and hold it. Pose on.

She listens like a mantis, moving her limbs the way he tells her to, camera clicking. It’s either that or a cellar without sunshine or moonglow, nothing but critters scurrying, sometimes across her bare toes.

She is almost naked in the next session, but for the baseball jersey pulled down between her spread thighs, fists holding the cloth together.

 

—OVER AND OVER, AGAIN AND AGAIN

 

 

Earth Angel

 

She sits 

on a mantle 

boxed but free 

to roam through 

all the rooms 

she once lived in 

petting the cat 

watching deer 

stroll the lawn 

cuddling next to 

her husband 

who can’t see 

or feel her 

and it’s enough 

to be here 

to be present 

in the moment 

noticing how loved

she was 

how many 

miss her this much

and always will 

YOUR’E THE AUTHOR OF EVERYTHING

 

 

…Hey, Monday. Take it easy on me, please. I still feel tender.

 

…What do you think? Let’s just do this, see if it makes us cry or smile, feel less, or more than.

 

…Pain is good for something—it reminds us that we’re alive. (Like I need a reminder.)

 

…Those birds must think I’m awfully wacky, walking in circles around the house at 3 am, lights out, shadows everywhere.

 

…It’s probably a good idea to exhale once and a while. I just have to remind myself of that. 

 

…I don’t really think it’s true at all—that misery loves company. Misery really just loves itself, and wants to wallow.

 

…I kind of want to hide today. Find a hole. Find a blanket. And get covered up.

 

…Everyone looks so happy. I’m glad.

 

…Don’t be a baby.

 

…Imagination is the key. When you can’t smell anything, you have to imagine what your food tastes like. You have to rely on memory, or make it all up as you go along.

 

…I never thought I’d be here.

 

…I bragged about not being angry a while ago, but since then, I’ve been plenty angry. 

 

…I’m not sure if social media is supposed to inspire you, or make you want to kill yourself.

 

…Dogs. Puppies. Deer. Those are all good things we could use more of.

 

…I’ll try again, harder this time.

 

…It’s hard to know if this dome is Heaven, or a prison.

 

…I wonder if I’m the only one who ever feels this way.

 

…Poetry is so irrational. Most times it only makes sense to the person who, for whatever reason, wrote it.

 

…I don’t always agree with my friends, but if they give a fuck, I’ll listen as objectively as I can.

 

…My father in-law recently asked me if I was ever in the military. Wait, what? That caught me off guard. He may still have been in shock over the death of his wife, my mother. So, I opened up my coat and shook it, said, “Look at me. What do you think? What military would possibly have me?”

 

…It might only take an hour, two hours, to change the whole trajectory of your life. You never know.

 

…Today I wanted to flip off God, but I couldn’t do it. I saw Him looking at me like I was a petulant child, and I got scared.

 

…Someday I’ll write the perfect poem, and I’ll send it to you.  

 

…I was advised to listen to “Bang on the Drum,” which is funny because I remember hearing that with my daughter when she was 14 or so, and I kept asking her if she knew what the song meant, and then toward the end she screamed, “I GET IT NOW!”  

 

…Isn’t music one of the best things ever?

 

…The other day, I looked down and there were bright sprockets of rich blood smeared all over my carpet. Evidentially, I’d stepped on a piece of glass that became imbedded in my heel. It’s amazing what you can, and can’t feel.

 

…I don’t need any more advice, but instructions for living, I’ll take that.

 

…Benjamin Braddock’s got nothing on me, in the moment.

 

…I learned a lot more about listening better today. Sometimes you want people to blast things out clearly, but speaking softly and kindly is way more effective. 

 

…A lot of times social media seems like such puffery, and total bullshit.

 

…This might take a million years. And so what, if it does?

 

…I wasn’t going to cry today. I mean, I wasn’t.

 

…The longest intro to a song has to be, “Pictures of You.” Robert looks incredibly awkward standing there all stiff in the fake snow like a totem, but it’s a pretty fucking great song, nonetheless.  

 

…Everything’s ready. The only thing I’m missing is people.

 

…Being an outsider is okay so long as you don’t take anything personally. Otherwise, it gets awfully messy.

 

…I think Robert Smith and I could be best friends, if we had the chance.

 

…Same with Chris Cornell, if he was still alive.

 

…“Who wouldn’t want to imagine that life might take shape, have a formula? That the years didn’t just pass through you?” Emma Cline

 

…There’s something in my heel that keeps bleeding. Maybe my heart has moved. I haven’t seen it lately.

 

...Down south, that’s where I’d like to be right now.

 

…Monday only sucks if you have a job, and if you remember what day it is.

 

…Generally speaking, most guys are bad guys. Watch out.

 

…I wrote a lot of nonsensical stuff early this morning while you were still sleeping. I hope your dreams were better than mine.

 

…“I got into an argument with a nun,” is something I texted myself, but I’ve still not written that piece yet.

 

…I don’t think I’ve ever met an actual nun.

 

…I could use a snowball fight right now. “Let it rip.”

 

…Cathy and Go Go… Now there’s a story, or two. I mean, who has calves for pets?

 

…There’s nothing you can say that hasn’t already been said, but you can say it differently, in your own way, with your unique voice. Remember that.

 

…I almost made it through Saturday without crying. Almost…

 

…Swing! And a miss!

 

…Don’t mind me. I just stumbling around, looking desperately for the Architecture Building.

 

...Oh, boy.

 

…Pour me a short one, and then we’ll puck, once my fingers finally stop shaking, and I’ll try really, really hard not to hit you.

 

…Why you gotta be?

 

…I know there’s some joy around here somewhere, I just can’t remember where I left it.

 

…I’ve got to get ahead while I still can. 

 

…I should probably take a nap while I still can.

 

…I’m taking one now

 

—I GOT A HAPPY MEAL AND A BASEBALL

 

(Caution: This is not a happy read, a rare, early Thursday/Friday post.) 

 

 

…And just when you think you can’t possibly cry anymore, you can.

 

…There’s a point where you can’t go back, as if you ever could.

 

…Who you call first in that moment says so much.

 

…I was always an ardent defender of our political system. When people lambasted politicians, I got up in arms. Now I’m not so sure. I’d be pretty embarrassed to be a Senator today.

 

…I could sure use a mogul right now.

 

…I’ve got a lot to say, and nothing at all.

 

…Maybe I’ll say what you already know, that life is unfair.

 

…For me, books have been the things that have kept me alive. Sometimes, when I thought even they couldn’t.

 

…It’s taken me all this time to get to “Mom” and “Dad.” Fuck, what was I waiting for?

 

…“I was a country girl, but there were lots of boys after me.” Mom never would have said this if she hadn’t been sedated, but I’m glad she did. 

 

...Death creates not only commiseration, but a lot of beauty afterward. It sprawls and lands wherever it’s gonna land.

 

…Don’t you hate it when you get a song stuck in your head and, no matter what, it won’t leave you be?

 

…If you could see what I see, you’d probably see it differently.

 

…Do you hear yourself right now?

 

…I don’t even think therapy would help, but I’ll get through it.

 

…I’m not so sure about faux friends, who show up once a year, if that. I don’t think I trust them.

 

…Is trust a bigger word than love? Hmm.

 

…You could run me over right now and I wouldn’t feel a thing.

 

…Sorry to be so gloomy, but it might be a while. My bones feel like jelly.

 

…You don’t even want to read what I wrote earlier. Trust me. Trust me on that.

 

…Sometimes I’ll rub my forehead and skin will flake off, visibly, and I’ll think, there I go.

 

…I haven’t been able to get “3 Feet Tall” out of my head, even after taking all those cans up and back. And that’s a bit of a big problem.

 

…What are you working on?

 

…I always leave something on the plate. It’s like a stamp of approval, perverse, but real, something you can see, and sign off on.

 

…And it’s not like I don’t ever want to be happy again. But just maybe not today.

 

…Maybe you could show me what makes you glad and then I could try to mimic that.

 

…I don’t think I’ve ever been fickle, though I’m not suggesting being fickle is a bad thing.

 

…I must be the only person whose favorite color is orange—orange car, phone, socks, shoes and coat, the hoodie I’m wearing right now.

 

…Writers are the best people, the best example of what it is to be human—flawed, insecure, creative, observant, lovers of wonder.

 

…I suddenly got a hankering to play, of all things, “Two Tickets to Paradise.”

 

…You should see the waves on the lake right now. They’re a kaleidoscope of fears and all kinds of  wonder.   

 

…So, yeah, I’m already worn out and you’re just getting started. Good for you. I mean that. I’m not being snarky. I think the sun’ll come out tomorrow. Right? I mean, won't it?

 

…I think I’d be lot better if I was with my Bllllll!!!! right now. I wish I was. See you next month.