—I DIDN’T KNOW I WAS BROKEN TIL I WANTED TO CHANGE

 

 

…“Darling, I’m afraid you are very wrong.” Margo’s Got Money Troubles, Rufi Thorpe

 

…Another civilization might think, “This is the way to go!”

 

…You don’t have to tell me whatever it is.

 

…You can never go wrong being gracious.

 

…What happened to us, anyway?

 

…Love me or leave me, that’s as good as it’s going to get.

 

…That wasn’t supposed to be it, but at least we don’t have to carry that anymore.

 

…You don’t want to do that right now, or anymore, or ever again, trust me.

 

…Some people still trust me.

 

…There’s always the restroom window.

 

…Author’s Note: Nothing I post here on Friday’s, or any day, is necessarily chronological or actually true.

 

…It’s your call.

 

…I could people watch all day.

 

…It could be weather-beaten skin or just a well-lived life staring back at you smiling.

 

…I can’t remember what I was trying to remember.

 

…It’s called fiction. How much more is there to understand?

 

…“How had she known what parts of herself to change?” Margo’s Got Money Troubles, Rufi Thorpe

 

…I think I’m getting confused about what’s real and what isn’t.

 

…It doesn’t matter what it is, only that I don’t know it.

 

…I keep thinking things would be different if I had a dog whistle, but, nope

 

…There’s nothing more precious in the entire world than a three-year-old girl dancing by a water fountain.

 

…See, before all that, you didn’t know I’m an idiot.

 

…Sometimes I don’t even know why I’m crying.

 

“It’s the greatest pain and the greatest love you’ll ever know.” Margo’s Got Money Troubles, Rufi Thorpe.

 

...Some stories never and some do. It’s a lucky thing either way to ever have had a story. 

 

…Words can be made hollow, and once they’re hollow, anything can be done with them.

 

…The good and the bad, they always seem to arrive tangled up together.

 

…There’s The Breakfast Club and then there’s Wednesday Morning Club. It’s not even close, which one was more epic.

 

…I feel like I’m taking too long to get to the point.

 

…Maybe I’ll have an answer in a few months, or years, or never, which would be an answer.

 

…How could I be so blind? Even after cataract surgery?

 

…Without context art is just art, a different kind of art.

 

…I have to admit, I’m really sad to lose that coat.

 

…It’s amazing what you don’t find if you aren’t looking for it.

 

…If you fall in love with a book, is it the character(s) or the author you fall in love with?

 

…How do we find a way not to waste all that?

 

…Someone told me I should keep these Friday posts more succinct, so I’m going to try that. Just this once, anyway. I’ll keep the other 32 pages on my desktop for later.

 

…If you’re not careful, you’re going to get stuck here all night.

 

…It’s gonna be a bright, bright sun-shiny day.

 

—IT KEEPS ME RUNNING

 

 

Don’t Just Stand There

 

     This morning, I read an article in The Bismarck Tribune entitled, “How to Have a Difficult Argument.” 

     I ate a peyote button beforehand but didn’t tell a soul, not even the pooch who knew too much already.

     For once, the words made perfect sense—laid out like steps to a ladder. My wife was standing right there beside me at the stove as I repeated certain parts and phrases, her slapping my head with a spatula as if we were both in a Hanna-Barbera cartoon.

     I knew then that I’d been trying too hard to love her, to make her love me again after all I’d done, because now it was just sand down there, the Gobi, everything dry as an iguana taking its last gasp.

     She said, “Jesus son,” and smacked me again like my mom would when she walked the trailer topless and I failed to comment.

     I knew I loved her, though, my wife, not my mother, because fate is painted on every man’s soul somewhere.

     “I was a broken girl, you know?” my wife said chewing on a pepper sprout.

     When I reached for her hand, she actually let me take it—the gift of a lifetime or eternal forever.

     Behind us, the kettle on the burner kept whistling. It sounded like a train going somewhere we’d never been before.

 

—ALL DAY AND ALL NIGHT

 

 

The Children

 

They wanted to be loved. 

Somehow, young as they were, 

they knew love was the 

most important thing, 

as precious as an antique coin, 

far more essential to life 

than water or air, so to them 

the bombs looked like 

cherished friends or clouds perhaps, 

somehow symmetrical and gleaming

that afternoon. Each child left 

the school yard before the bell rang,

lining up, waving with their very best smiles.

 

 

      (2/28/26, Shajareh Tayyebeh^[ Elementary School

 

—I GUESS I’LL SEE YOU IN TACOMA, OR NEXT TUESDAY

 

…Music, art and love. It’s truly all that matters.

 

…I swear I’ve never seen that sign before, until yesterday, but it’s funnier than Hell.

 

…It seems worth repeating—Never ever eat snails. Or duck. 

In other words, never eat French food. And never wear a baseball cap backwards. “Never” is the key word here. 

 

…You’re killing me and you’re not even here anymore. How is that possible?

 

,,,I guess there’s such a thing as trying too hard.

 

…I don’t think you’re going to change my mind. Jesus was love.

 

…Yeah, I’m going to Jackson. Don’t comb your hair.

 

…It’s pretty easy to rationalize any experience, if you think about it.

 

--What did you expect?

--Nothing.

--Well, then it looks like you got your wish.

 

…If you give me enough time, I could come up with a reason.

 

…Books are a form of magic. They’re different than film. They can eat your entire soul if you let them.

 

…We’ve been talking about Jackson, ever since the fire went out.    

 

…What are you looking for?

 

…To Hell with Jackson, I can’t seem to get Katie out of my head…

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ae0sYBbXkbo&list=RDae0sYBbXkbo&start_radio=1

 

…Isn’t that the question everyone wants to ask, but very few will answer?

 

…I guess I’m just wondering, What’s going to happen here next?

 

…A lot of times I can’t read beyond the headline, or even half of the headline, and politics used to be my number oner passion.

 

 …Why say it if you don’t mean it? Can’t you just talk to me?

 

…When someone is murdered the prosecutors always have to provide a motive. What if someone just likes murdering people for no reason?

 

…Why are we friends again?

 

…That last round was one too many, but I’m swinging happy.

 

…It’s easy to criticize the things you don’t understand. Trust me, I do it all the time.

 

…Some clichés are actually quite appropriate.

 

…Talk to me when you’ve lived a while.

 

…I wonder if there’ll ever be a day when I don’t think about John.

 

…It’s cruel, yeah, but you know it’s a game, right?

 

…I’m going to give it back, I swear, just as soon as I suck the life out of it.

 

…I wish I’d never seen that. It won’t go away.

 

…“There once was a man from Nantucket…”

 

Honestly, I only asked you out because I panicked and forgot what to do when you encounter a bear on a trail.”

…Maybe it’s today I’m talking about.

 

…You know, you can’t get away with that forever. 

 

…I’m not winning any prizes for the way I think.

 

…If I’m one month ahead and you’re not, does that even matter? 

 

...Baby shoes for sale—never worn.

 

…Here’s the thing about a paunch, or old age—it just sneaks up on you, and then it’s there, and there’s nothing you can do about it other than stare in the mirror and feel self-absorbed and/or gross.

 

…You can’t take a bottle with you everywhere.

 

…If someone is brave enough, and has the audacity, to send you a poem they wrote, you should realize that that is an exceptional act on their behalf, and not one to be taken lightly.

 

…If you want a bad idea, I can give you plenty of examples.

 

…Seems pretty obvious—I’m never going to be an Influencer.

 

…Someone could probably write a lot of really good poems if they came up to my office and glanced at all of these stacks.

 

…It feels good to win, once and a while, no matter what it is.

 

…Why do I keep doing that? I know I shouldn’t, but I still do it.

 

…If you can wait a few more secs, I can probably find an uglier picture for you.

 

…What a morning. Can’t you tell?

 

…If we all look away and say nothing about it, how are we any different than the German people living when Hitler made them pledge allegiance to him?

 

…Maybe I wouldn’t care so much if I’d taken a different major.

 

…There are only a handful of people who understand why I’m here on Fridays, and that’s probably how it should be.

 

…Even when it’s obviously false, positive affirmation is important.

 

…I’m going to Jackson, that’s a fact.  

 

…Sometimes it’s impossible to look the other way.

 

…“I asked the president, ‘Why focus on these projects now, amid the backdrop of the war in Iran and as gas prices soar.’ He said the question was ‘stupid’ and a ‘disgrace to the country,’ saying ‘he’s fixing the reflecting pool’.” 

--Rachel Scott, ABC News Correspondent

 

…There are a million ways to say it, but here’s another one—

“Dear Conservative Evangelicals.

You gave him a pass on “grab them by the pussy.”

You don’t mind that he’s an Olympics-class liar.

A thirty-four-count fraud conviction didn’t faze you.

Not even an adjudication of rape bothered you.

He’s mentioned in the Epstein documents literally 38,000 times.

You don’t find it odd that he’s personally blocking the release of three million of those files.

He’s the most corrupt politician in American history.

He’s broken all ten of the Ten Commandments.

Including taking the lives of 153 little girls whose only crime was being in school.

And then he lied about it.

He doesn’t go to your church.

He doesn’t go to ANY church.

He cheats at golf.

He cheats at business.

He cheats contractors.

He cheats on his wives.

He cheats in elections.

He’s profane.

Crooked.

Disrespectful.

Selfish.

Driven by greed.

By ego.

By revenge.

Yet here you are worshipping a golden idol in his likeness.

So what is it about YOU that makes you a Christian? Other than the fact that you actually believe by merely saying you are qualifies you for an everlasting life in paradise.

         --Bruce Lindner

 

…I’m probably just really cynical.

 

…Is Russia still bombing Ukraine every day for no reason?

 

…Why worry about that? What’re you gonna do?

 

…I can’t even count how many times I’ve been wrong about everything.

 

…Discover Weekly is definitely the best part of Mondays. I almost like them now--Mondays.

 

…It’s hard to keep sharing your writing with someone who never gets it. 

 

…I finally finished Dream State, as you’ll be able to tell later on. I had so many problems with that book, yet I can’t stop thinking about it. I suppose that’s the sign of a great book, right?

 

…Last week’s Mom’s Day tidbits (that I loved) from WORDS OF WIDSOM, The Washington Post:

 

--‘It’ll quilt out.’

Mom was a quilter, as am I. If there was a small mistake in a quilt project, once the final stitches were in and the project was washed, no one would ever see the problem. Most things just don’t have to be perfect. — Laura Falk, 57, St. Louis, Missouri

--‘All people bring joy: some by coming, some by going!’

It’s such a lighthearted way to reframe interactions with difficult people. Always makes me laugh! — Michelle Pauk, 42, Franklin, Tennessee

--‘少吃, 多滋味’

“Eat less, taste more.” At a time of scarcity of food during the war, mother used to say her motto to us at mealtime. — Christa Shih, 92, New York City

--‘Knock with your elbows.’

It meant show up at a friend’s place burdened with contributions for the party. — Natalie Serber, 64, Portland, Oregon

--‘Better to wear out than rust out.’

Having had polio, my mother’s inclination was toward motion, in which she often was a blur. She could best her three daughters in sports and accomplish more in a day than all of us combined. — Catherine R. Seeley, 78, Easton, Maryland

--‘A man riding by on a fast horse would never notice.’

She used to say this whenever I complained that something wasn’t perfect. It taught me to always remember that “good enough” is good enough. — Susan Moxon, 81, San Diego, California

--‘Tout passe et tout s’efface, sauf les souvenirs.’

“Everything passes and everything fades away, except memories.” I find myself using my Haitian mom’s saying whenever someone frets over something of little importance. — Babette Wainwright, 73, Madison, Wisconsin

--‘Don’t push the river.’

Now I say this to friends — stop striving and forcing outcomes, trust the natural flow of life, let go and stay present. — Julie Merrick, 56, Olympia, Washington

--‘Sing out, Louise!’

To my mom, this line from the musical “Gypsy” meant always let your presence be known. Make a choice, be specific and carpe diem. “Curtain up, light the lights!” — Jonathan Cobrda, 35, New York City

--‘Never pass up an opportunity to pee.’

It’s very true, especially on road trips, but it also has a deeper meaning in my life: Take care of something when you get the chance. — Cari Stoltz, 42, Richland Center, Wisconsin

--‘I’m in your pocket.’

Mom always said this to me, and it made me feel safe. Now that she is gone, I hear her in my mind’s ear and know she is still always with me. — Julie Lewis, 70, Providence, Rhode Island

 

…Much like a lot of things in life, I suppose there are the books you never want to end and then those that can’t end soon enough.

 

…“When I was 16, a kid, I was a housewife. I was brought up differently than the average American child. Happiness wasn’t anything I took for granted…” 

“I’ve been invited places to sort of kind of brighten up a dinner table. You’re not really invited for yourself sometimes. That’s why I don’t really get involved in the so-called Hollywood life, you know? It doesn’t interest me. People, I like. The public scares me, mobs scare me.” 

–Marilyn Monroe

 

…I might have already fucked that up, but at least I tried.

 

…You got me there. Yeah, you got me again.

 

—CAN’T TAKE MY EYES OFF OF YOU

 

No Joke

 

The kid I used to babysit 

went to an outdoor concert last night 

and mowed down 17. 

3 are supposed to live.

He used to punch me when I watched TV.

Maybe he wanted something. 

Sandwiches sat on the kitchen counter,

juice on the tray.

His folks were actually still in love. 

No joke. They held hands.

They had a poodle named Jetson. 

The pooch had a spot of black fur

just behind his right eye, 

like a well with no bottom.

Once, when I asked the kid if 

he ever read a book, he cackled. 

It felt like he was showing off again. 

Sweat and spit flew everywhere. 

Theatrical. Real Tony Awards stuff. 

The cops on TV speak in tropes. 

Life feels like a trope. 

But I miss that kid, I really do, 

how he used to try to tell me about his dreams, 

even the ones that made no sense,

even those he made up.  

 

—I’VE DONE A HUNDRED SONGS, FROM FANTASIES TO LIES 

 

Planet of the Apes

 

They let the monkeys out and the chimps ran amok

The monkeys ran faster than anyone expected

They ran across town like a black blur of flies

They ran for office and won

They ran the libraries and banned our favorite books

They ran interference between fact and fiction

They ran the district and the state and the entire country

They ran our lives telling us who we could or couldn’t love

They ran carrying bombs while dropping leaflets for peace         

    that were littered with calligraphy and lies

They ran the dying newspapers printing fake news

They ran the hospitals withholding vaccines

They ran our computers and phones 

They ran photocopier businesses and put their grinning   

     mugs on everything from stamps to passports

They ran the border around everyone else’s border

They ran Madame Tussauds and replicated themselves as 

      Jesus the Pope a king and warlord

They ran the schools and colleges but closed them all and    

      homeschooled us instead

They ran the gun shops and kept every weapon fully loaded