Trans-Am

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At one time his gold rims looked so fine
with his black car
and matching gold pinstripes

And that leather purse she just had to have
now sits in her closet underneath a box

And she has no idea what is in that box


At one time her hair looked so fine
with its curls or whatever was
the look at the time

And that flannel shirt he just had to have
now sits crumpled in a box in her closet

and he has no idea that she still has that box

you never really loved that car
you never really loved that purse
you never really loved that girl
you never really loved your hair
you never really loved that shirt
you never really loved that guy

and you never really...
you never really loved.


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Dirt

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Before the dirt
Bury me with blood
Bury me with a touch so soft
With passion

Before the dirt
Bury me with hope
Bury me with a kiss so long
With pain

Before the dirt
Let me find a true lack of reason
A true desire, a true fear

Cut me, hit me, hold me, fuck me, drink all that I have to give

Then cover me with dirt
And I will help

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Silken Thigh

------------------------

When I was 11, I saw the movie Tommy for the first time. Ann Margret played Tommy's  mother, and she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. Oliver Reed Played Tommy's stepdad Bernie. He was greasy and ugly and slurred his words and I wondered why she would be with a man like that.

There was a scene in which Tommy and his mother were staying at "Bernie's Holiday Camp" and it seemed a lousy place for a kid, but Tommy appeared to be happy and I liked that because I wanted to be Tommy, and so I wanted to be at "Bernie's" too. But still, I wondered why Tommy's mom liked Bernie because he was greasy and ugly and slurred his words.

At the camp they hold a "lovely legs contest" in which 10 or so women stand behind a board which blocks our view of their upper bodies, revealing only legs in high heel shoes. I thought that it would be impossible to pick a winner because they ALL looked like sex and skin and how would you choose? Bernie was, of course, the judge, and as he stood there he seemed even uglier and greasier next to those lovely legs. Why did she want him? Why would any of the women that owned those legs want him?

They reveal the winner, and of course it's Tommy's mom, and I thought it must be fixed because Bernie wanted to fuck her and it's his camp, and even an 11-year-old knows that picking her would work. I was angry at first because Tommy must also know this, but just after Bernie reveals her as the winner, he caresses her leg and he sings:

"Here we have the winner, folks!
Have you ever seen a lovelier pair?
What a shapely ankle!
What a perfect shin!
If you could feel this silken thigh,
You'd know who has to win!
If you could feel this silken thigh,
You'd know."


What did he say?


"If you could feel this silken thigh... you'd KNOW."

I thought two things:

One, "Dear God I want to feel a silken thigh like that one day."

And two, "THAT is what she see's in him. While all the other fools hoot and holler and fuck and cum... he took the time to appreciate that silken thigh."

I couldn't stop thinking about it. The look on his face as he stroked her leg... he knew something other men didn't. And someday I would get to touch a beautiful silken thigh, and I swore to God I would take my time. I thought from watching porn that girls just wanted me to fuck them and put my fingers in them. But I would make them wait for that... I would leave their panties on and I would spend an hour touching and kissing ONLY that silken thigh... because...

"If you could feel that silken thigh, you'd KNOW."

And despite all that ugly, and all that grease, and those slurred words... Bernie knew. He knew.

---------------------------

cut flowers

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While I was out today I became obsessed with finding black calla lilies. I wanted to see something beautiful beyond words. I stopped at a few gardening centers. But mostly, I stopped at flower stores. There were so many flowers. They should be beautiful. They should have made me swell. They made me hate.

cut flowers.

They made me hate the assholes in the store buying flowers for their girls because they think that is what girls want. but they never take the time to look at the flowers or realize that the flowers are dying...
And THAT is where the real beauty comes from.

cut flowers.

Still, the girls will gush, and the guys will be right, because people love flowers more than words and they will fuck, and not feel much. In a while they will both cum and reassure each other that something magical had happened. And the flowers will die slower because of the packet of powder that was poured into the vase.

cut flowers

I didn't find the black flowers.
If I had found them, I would have placed them on the seat of a stranger's car.
and the flowers would have died, and perhaps a single pedal would have fallen to the floor to shrivel and change and be ground into the floorboard. And later, a lifetime from now, the owner of the car would die.

And my black calla lilies would have been a small part of that life...

...and they would have been beautiful.

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Dinner with friends

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I'm fine. right here. lying face down. in an alley. shirt wet. drunk.
I'll be with you in a moment. soon. I can hear the people in the street. but I prefer the sound of the water. As it drips... into the sewer.

I'm fine. right here. unaware of the world. outside my viewfinder.
I'll be with you in a moment. to sit at a table and pretend. but right now I prefer the cold of this alley.
As it breathes... in perfect time with me.

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Steve

---

When I was twelve I had a friend named Steve. I trusted him enough to tell him that I hurt inside.

I told him, "I hurt all the time. But it's okay, because someday I will show them that I see something amazing... something deep and strange and magical. I don't know what it is, but when I show it to them they will need it as much as I do."

"No," He laughed. "They don't care, they will never want something they can't understand. They will laugh at you too."

I pushed him to the ground and started punching him.

He was bleeding, and I was crying. "No... you are wrong," I wept, "they will need it, they will."

It's not your fault.

But fuck you, Steve.

Fuck you for being right.

---

2010

-
I've never acknowledged new years as anything more than a waste of time. A day to party and make plans that you will never follow thru on.

Today, out of necessity, I need to reflect on the last year, and the year ahead.

For a while now I've been trying to relate to the world in a way that means something to me. I don't want to say that it's a "deeper," or more "important" way, but rather a more "meaningful" way. There IS something more here, now... I don't know what it is but I know it is passing us all by.

Most of those attempts to connect to others failed. One in particular didn't. And that alone may have literally saved me from myself.

I've made no secret of it, mentally, I am struggling more than I could have imagined. I've tried to open the book on why I think I'm struggling and have been met with indifference, love, anger, laughter, and the always unhelpful "it's going to be okay."

Maybe it's not going to be okay. Maybe I'll never heal. Maybe I'll never find the inner peace I crave. Maybe I'll never find my "God."

I honestly don't know where to go from here. I wrote some general tips yesterday that may help keep me grounded, but I don't know if that's enough.

I will continue to create... Paint, design, write, touch and feel with absolute passion. Complete and total passion for the moment.

I hope that you find what you crave.


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