Friday, April 29, 2011

I would like to push a grocery cart through a bookstore, filling up the cart with giant sweeps of my arms, clearing shelves like a lawn mower.  I would like to hear the books fall onto the floor even though the sounds would hurt the place under my skin, under the bone and muscle.  I would like to fill up the cart until it can hardly be moved.  Then I would like the bookstore person to tell me, "Go on, just take them.  I know they will be well cared for."  They will watch me with their arms folded, nodding, before turning to go clean up my mess.

Thursday, April 21, 2011

Feel like I am eating ‘big things.’ Picture a chocolate chip cookie the size of a Frisbee. Picture a lollipop the size of a truck tire. Picture a bowl of cereal the size of a manhole cover. A chicken leg the size of a pizza guy. A saltine cracker you can surf on. A tub of margarine you can sit in. Put these things and more on a table and place me in front of them with a napkin tucked into my collar and a knife and fork duct taped in each of my hands. Tell me to pound the heels of those utensils into the wood of the table while yelling, “Eat! Eat! Eat!” Pretend, even though I have a regular sized mouth and stomach, that I am eating those things. Pretend that it’s something one should be excited about. That’s how I feel.

Actually, that’s probably not really how I feel. It’s a bad analogy. I just like the thought of very large sized food. Maybe what I really want out of life is to be very small.

Either which way, I feel like I am approaching a crossroad (crossroads?) in my life. I feel like I am approaching it VERY slowly. Sort of like, the crossroad is very far ahead, but I can just barely see it, and I am in a car that is having mechanical problems and I am praying the car can continue creeping down the road (which is in the middle of nowhere) long enough to make it to the crossroad(s) because maybe there is a phone there, or a guy is there who HAS a phone or maybe there is a new car there, waiting for me and if only I can make it to the crossroad(s?) Everything will be okay.

Actually, that is a bad analogy too. Man, I’m having a difficult time trying to explain my feelings today, aren’t I?

Nevermind. I’m feeling things that are big and important and I am feeling a shift in the force. It is happening slow like a three legged turtle walking through mud. How’s that?

Friday, April 15, 2011

Hello Nobody!

I wrote something that has the word, "boner" in it a lot.  Society dictates I should not be proud of such a thing, but too bad society! I am proud of my excessive use of the word boner!  BONER! BONER! BONER!

Just kidding.  The word boner should only be used in moderation unless you are a professional LIKE ME who can write a story for Smokelong about naked men penis fighting and then follow it up with a prose piece for PANK that happens to throw the word 'boner' around a lot. (There's also swear words...gasp!)

Sorry, Mom.  I know you're proud of me anyway.

Thank you, Roxane Gay for saying nice things about it, too.

Sunday, April 10, 2011

My neighbor’s house is termite tented. The birds that nest in the Bougainvillea don’t know where to go. They are lost and confused. They fight the stripes with their wings.

The extra large eggs I bought have the smallest yolks. Each time I break one open I am disappointed. They are like tiny penises on huge men.

Remember the box of lemons I had? There are 12 left. Twelve completely shriveled, shrunken and useless lemons. I wonder when they’ll ever be gone.

Thursday, April 7, 2011

There is a green popsicle that has been in my work’s freezer for almost a year now.  It’s bright green.  It’s in a clear plastic wrapper.  Every day I see the popsicle and every day I have the urge to throw it away but every day I don’t because I feel like it needs a chance or that it has its own right to survive.  I always have the urge to write about the popsicle and I never do, until today.  I know the popsicle does not have a consciousness.  Sometimes I humanize things so sue me.

I am wearing last night’s hair and makeup.  I look a little like Rod Stewart.  I’m tired.  I am typing the word, “esophagus.”