There are the seven stages of man,
And there are the times you’ve built beds.
When you’re in your twenties,
Have a nineteen year old girlfriend,
Who moves out of her mom’s
Is a very unique circumstance.
Sure you’ve been dating for two years,
Obligated to help,
But you’re leaving.
You’re moving off,
She’s moving on,
“I’ll never love anyone like I love you.”
And it’s true.
And you find yourself,
Holding an allen key;
Surrounded by pine,
And 32 pages of
“Welcome to you’re new Tarva Bed!”
She moves books
Continue reading How to Build a Bed
ME: Holy Shit.
ME: Holy shit.
KEVIN: I know. And it was going so well.
ME: Thank you for meeting me.
KEVIN: You’re about the only person who’ll talk to me right now, so it’s not like I can do better.
ME: The fourteen year old.
KEVIN: I know.
ME: It’s not what you think. I’m obviously not on your side…
ME: But the first thing I thought when I heard it was… where are that kids parents?
ME: What are they Continue reading Kevin Spacey: An Interview
I saw you yesterday in my dream. It was the first time I laid eyes on you so forgive me if this is a hot mess of mulch:
You were with my son, and I was going to space.
The upstairs attic did not lead, in fact, to an attic,
It led to space. Outer space.
I breathed into this huge mechanism,
Similar to a Gin Mill.
I took breath,
As this would sustain me
As I ventured into outer space.
Which was actually my attic.
(Who knew, And what are the odds.)
Then I saw you with my son.
I looked Continue reading In a second
The last thing I remember,
Was lying with you on a mattress on the floor
Of my mothers second unused bedroom.
It was hardly used
Except for the radio
In the room—which served
As our “alarm” system.
But let us go back to the times of Vanilla Ice;
The times of cargo pants and Gatorade.
To railroad tracks,
and knowing who are the skaters
and who are the surfers.
Fortunately, or not,
We were neither.
High spirited Continue reading Pish-Posh