—COME ON, BABY, THIS LAUGH’S ON ME

  

The Dam

 

My friend says they know 

that song, that poem, that author, 

how the world will end and when. 

They know absolutely everything.

Maybe they do, maybe they don’t, 

it’s hard to believe in God 

when you’re not dying-- 

so much mystery after all,

with those nagging questions 

like the perversity of free will 

and falling fruit. 

My friend says they died too 

same way my mother did, 

now also tinder and dust coating a casket, 

says they were there when 

the wall fell, when Joan burned at the stake,

when Jesus rode a gurney of light 

through the C-section of belief. 

Who am I to doubt 

when I’ve yet to learn or experience 

what they so easily pluck 

from their lap and lips 

as if answers are cheap and everywhere?

But I do know that on a 

lake somewhere near here, 

a beaver swims toward the dam that

some fool dissembled thinking they knew 

a better way to keep rough water at bay, 

how to hold trust intact, 

even when it’s been gone for years.

 

—HI, LUCY. I MISS YOU. I LOVE YOU, LUCY.

  

…I think I’m just a little scared sometimes. Is that okay to say?

 

…I’ll let you in on a secret: I never talk to anyone as much as I do you.

 

…Don’t you worry, everybody’s crazy. You’re doing amazing. Everything is terrible…  

 

…“Hell is empty and all the devils are here.” Shakespeare, “The Tempest”

 

…It was stunning here yesterday. At one point, I watched this guy plow across the lake on a paddle board that was barely wider than my chest and all I could think was, If that was me, I wouldn’t have made it a foot before nose-diving in the water. I wouldn't have even been able to stand up in the first place.

 

… “I'm mad, they say. I am temperamental and dizzy and disagreeable. Well, let them talk. I can take it. Only one person can hurt me. Her name is Ida Lupino.” Ida Lupino, director

 

…It’s not easy to let someone look at you. Especially when you’re naked and skinny as a coat rack.

 

…I wasn’t looking, but look what I’ve found.

 

…Things seem a lot better in my head. Just ask these office walls.

 

…Maybe everybody craves sympathy.

 

…This morning I waited for the sun to come up, but saw the moon instead.

 

…“Every fucking day.”

 

…I’m in love with the person I’m becoming, but I’m more insecure than ever.

 

…Petty and selfish—believe it or not, after all this time, I’m getting farther and farther away from both of those.

 

…I watched my friend’s video on creative despair the other day and had to marvel for a while.

 

…If you really think about it, without a lid, or an end date, nothing matters much, or makes any sense.

 

…It can be a little appalling how much my neediness gets in the way. I’d like to assume I’m alone in that regard, but I may not be. What say you?

 

…Saying, “Oh,” is sometimes just the best you can do in a fraught situation.

 

…The truth is, I’ve been there many times before.

 

…Yesterday I watched two eagles soar together side by side in unison over the lake, synchronized like nature’s answer to The Blue Angels. (Actually, they seemed to swoon more than soar. I’m pretty sure they were two eagles in love.)

 

…You can’t have everything, but nothing’s cheap either.

 

…That sound coming from down the hall could be anything, but it’s not.

 

…There are only so many answers a person wants to hear before it feels like a beat-down.

 

…What’s the difference between a low-hanging cloud and fog? Don’t they do the same things?

 

…You should see the questions I never let anyone see.

 

…Coffee is kind of a trick, but sometimes it works. 

 

…Black dots on white paper—that could be anything, even gold.

 

…Every time you hear yourself say, “Wow” aloud, shouldn’t you stop for a second and really think about it?

 

…You have to be in a pretty good place emotionally to watch “The Pitt,” but trust me, it’s worth it.

 

…“There are many ways to kneel 

      and kiss the ground.” 

        --Rumi

 

…Therapize is actually a word. I just looked.

 

…The pandemic’s (mostly) been over for about four years now and while I detested their anti-vax and anti-mask stances during that period, I’m ready to give Van Morrison and those other chuckleheads a pass. But I really doubt I’ll ever be able to watch anything Sylvester Stallone is in after hearing him say Satan is “the second coming of George Washington.” 

 

…Here are five words I never in my life thought I’d ever say about a Supreme Court ruling: I don’t give a fuck.

 

…“I have long defined loneliness as not having someone you know who would pick up the phone if we all found out the world was ending in ten minutes and you could only make one call.” 

Barlow Adams, 9/20/2020

 

…Sleep is one of the few things that equalizes it all and yet, somehow, manages to drag us back for another day, another shot.

 

…Later is such a big word.

 

…Not to sound like a total bitch, but who really cares who the next pope is?

 

…But maybe Billy Ray Cyrus and Elizabeth Hurley is something to pay attention to.

 

…If you have the right idea but it doesn’t work, is it really the right idea?

 

…When someone pats the lone barstool three times and asks your friend to take it, she needs to be a really great looking hooker or it’s not happening.

 

…I’m not really sure how the guy next to me on the plane didn’t stab me in the throat because it sure seemed like that’s what he was aiming to do.

 

…I’ve got to stop thinking there’s always tomorrow because, really, there isn’t.

 

…The one thing I’m fairly certain about is you’ll never have a better friend than me. Nope.

 

…When someone tells you something you wrote is beautiful, well, everything after that could go to shit and it wouldn’t matter.

 

…A lot of times I hear Roxane’s voice saying, “As an editor, I’m really just looking for any reason to reject your submission.” And I get why she says that.

 

…“Their trust in me was undaunted. I could tell them I strangled a cat and they’d be like—That cat must have really fucked up.” 

 

…For the most part, everyone wants everyone else to agree with them—about what’s moral, what film is great, what beauty looks like. And then it’s difficult when they don’t. And that’s what I’ve had a really hard problem with, not the latter, but the former.

 

…I thought I was just talking to myself when really I was just talking to you all along.

 

…I gave away a $100 bill to this 22 (?) year old waitress who was scurrying around faster that any person should ever have to. But after I’d left, I thought, You know, I should have done more than that. When I handed it to her, I should have said, “You’re going to have an amazing life. I don’t know you at all, but I know you’re going to do great things.”

 

…I still don’t understand how MMA and UFC fighting is legal. I mean really? Dog fighting and cock fighting are bad but it’s okay to watch two people brutalize themselves and, oh yeah, let’s charge  people to watch it so we can cash in?

 

…If you love them, you have to love them to the end, flaws and all, otherwise it’s not love. I get that. But sometimes, man, it can be really tough.

 

…Why does this matter? Isn’t that always the most important question?

 

…Maybe this obsessive love I have for writing and books is just a fallacy that sounds really good when I tell it to other people. But it sure feels real to me.

 

…You may not realize it, but I do—that almost nobody on earth has the friendship we’ve got. And it’s not lost on me.

 

…A lot of times it’s like: Okay, but what was I supposed to think?

 

…That’s really impressive, to have that much willpower. Good on you.

 

…Sometimes now I wake up and I realize the state of affairs and I think, “Well, this day is fucked again,” and then I think: “At least it’s not the pandemic.” And then I think: “It’s kind of the same thing though.” And then I realize how fucked up that all is.

 

...Here’s the problem: (…..)

 

…It might not always look shiny and happy, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t.

 

…The wrong bathmat in a shower can mean the difference between life and death. I’m not joking.

 

…“Are you fucking kidding me? It’s sunny and beautiful again?”

 

…Also, a lot of times it’s like: Okay, but I don’t even know these people, so why do they bother me so much, and why can’t I stand them?

 

…“Well, that’s not good.”

 

…I hope it’s real. That’s all you can do, right? Hope?

 

…This is completely petty, but sometimes I think—it’s fifteen fucking dollars, dude, and you can’t even show me you care that much/little? 

 

…I showed up with a broken name and handed it to you.

 

…The one question—a really important one—I never ask myself enough, or at the right time is: What’s the point of this?

 

…Sometimes you get in survival mode and you think—I’ll just deal with that later—even when you should deal with it now, when catastrophe can still be avoided.

 

…I’ve never paid so much attention to the circles around someone’s eyes as I have lately.

 

…I only wrote one thing yesterday, an oddity for me, but I sure made a lot of other people happy about what they wrote, which was even better, because I meant it.

 

…“Man up!” I think that’s sexist, right? Yet, sometimes, it’s the correct call.

 

…It’s probably also sexist not to know what “Bridesmaid Burnout” is, so I’ll just go ahead and admit that when I saw them talking about it ad nauseum on tv, I thought it sounded like a lot of whiny horseshit. Come on, you got asked to be a Bridesmaid. That’s an honor. Man up. Just don’t go posting any racist hate propaganda online in the future like one of my groomsmen did this week.  

 

…That was a crushing blow.

 

…I love you.

Thank you.

I forgive you.

Please forgive me. 

 

—THE MORE I LEARN, THE LESS I KNOW

 

 

House at Pooh Corner

 

       In the house where you died I slept on the floor by the couch until the pooch came wagging licked me on the face so sloppy then gave up pronto

       In the house where you died mail fell through the slot all those bills and notices no one ever notices so what’s the use you used to say

       In the house where you died our children came around and knelt down as if to pray patting my dull shoulders like novice bread-makers though I shooed them off most gentlemanly

       In the house where you died I cried a little but then I laughed and became erect yes erect there thinking of how you arched that time over the heated hood of our old Toyota when we were just three weeks married and enough was never enough

       In the house where you died I sang your favorite song House at Pooh Corner sang it over and over until you laid down and told me I had a honey jar stuck on my nose Silly Goose saying what a large jar it was to cover up all that stuff no one ever sees or talks about anymore 

 

—I’VE HEARD ABOUT DEATH, BUT I’M NOT SOLD

 

 

Hanging in L.A.

 

     The poster stapled on the palm tree read WE BUY SOULS and when I called the number my father answered though he’d been gone years though he’d collected plenty which must have been why the line went dead again same as second chances or some sucker’s sense of hope wrong number after all

—I DON’T EXPECT YOU TO UNDERSTAND 

 

(CAUTION: Before you read this, know that I am okay. I was not okay when I wrote it yesterday, but I am now. A good friend of mine once asked me what it felt like to have depression and I more or less bungled my reply. These notes are probably a better answer, or at least it helped to write them.)

 

…It’s pretty easy to hate yourself. Most times you don’t even have to try.

 

…I picked a really bad day to be depressed.

 

…Sometimes I can’t even write it out.

 

…Maybe we’re all just acting and I’m as bad at it as the next guy.

 

…I guess it’s not always about me, although it always feels like it is.

 

…“You can’t handle the truth.”

 

…If it’s not about that, then what is it about?

 

…It’s hard to feel good about yourself when you’re looking in the mirror I look at.

 

…Even the sunshine doesn’t know it’s dark out.

 

…I’m the last person I want to talk to today because I never shut the fuck up.

 

…At least I have these twigs. That’s something.

 

…Everything is the color red. Even the lake.

 

…“All you need is love” sounds a lot like “Sending you my thoughts and prayers.”

 

…Smile like you mean it.

 

…Maybe the problem is caring too much.

 

…When the wind’s ripping hard, like it is right now, that sheet of plastic outside my window looks a lot like a ghost with a vendetta. 

 

…Why is it people love bunnies so much but hate rats? Aren’t they both just animals? 

 

…If people can still support Satan, doesn’t that make America meaningless? Isn’t everything you thought you believed in since you were a kid just a fucking joke?

 

…I should probably tell somebody they’re doing a good job.

 

…Failure actually is an option.

 

…It feels like my heart is trying to beat itself up.

 

…What do you do when the world wakes up when you don’t want it to?

 

…Maybe if Lucy was here.

 

…For a second there I thought my watch forgot about me.

 

…Misery really doesn’t love company. It doesn’t love anyone. Not even itself.

 

…If the answer is blowing in the wind it must have flown right by me.

 

…What’s amazing is I haven’t even read a shred of news today.

 

…There doesn’t always have to be a reason, but I’ve got nearly 65 of them.

 

…It’s too bad you can’t cut-and-paste days.

 

… How many times do you need to die before you know you’re dead? 

 

…Maybe I need to get skinnier.

 

…I think this is helping. Is it helping?

 

…I’m really good at dispensing advice, but pretty lousy at taking it.

 

…Tomorrow can’t be like this, can it?

 

…The problem with what you’re supposed to do is there’s no way you’re going to do it when you're like this. 

 

…This is about the only place I’ve gone today.

 

…I saw some movements in the yard by the lake two doors over that I thought was a deer and to get a closer look I bent down and looked through the window but then it was gone so I thought I’d imagined it or made it up because I really needed some good luck but then sure enough he showed up in the guy’s back yard and that might have been the silly thing that saved me.

 

…Let’s please not do this again, please? 

 

—LOSING MYSELF TO THE COMPROMISING

 

Speakeasy 

         after Donna Hilbert

 

Grief is a river

I can’t swim 

outcropped rocks 

nicking my skin 

an eddy dragging me 

down where the undertow 

tests its octave 

inside a speakeasy

each gurgle of air 

a globe of hope or prayer 

popping over the surface 

like a fresh sin 

or debts someone else

should settle soon 

while wise old owl 

perched crooked 

in the pine

wishes us all 

Happy Earth Day!

looking upriver

 —IF I HAD SOMETHING REALLY SPECIAL, I’D MAKE SURE TO GIVE IT TO YOU

  

Make-believe

 

      You tasted like the taffy I stole on the boardwalk the day my brother shouted Punk and Adopted and Fag and the flabby owner ran his ass over the slats while I flipped him off without looking and the granny in front of me wasn’t looking either as I caterwauled into her and later I heard she smashed her skull on a beach rock somehow dying like that just like that just like the first kiss we shared in the sun in Jersey when everything looked painted make-believe and cheerful same as a beachball sailing into the surf so beautiful that people just stare instead of chasing after it