April 16, 2009
Part 2: A big reception:
A long white hallway with flickering florescent bulbs leads me to the reception desk, where I find Nurse White. Nurse White all dressed in white sitting behind the pressed white wood desk, never moving. Her long blonde hair is tied up tight underneath her plain white nurses hat and the words come quietly from behind her frigid smile, “Print you name here and write a short introductory paragraph telling us why you think we should let you into Wolfie’s.”
“What?”
“No one gets into Wolfie’s with out filling out the paperwork.”
Nurse White knows that I have no idea why I am here or what this place is. It is just a little game she plays to amuse herself since there really isn’t much else to do. Everyone who walks through those doors belongs at Wolfie’s even if they don’t seem to belong anywhere else. Nurse White watches as each new visitor tries to figure out what to write and get a little internal smirk as they wonder why they are writing in the first place.
After I have scribbled some nonsense on the form Nurse White says that I may enter and points me to the small white door behind her that somehow I never seemed to notice until she pointed it out.
April 15, 2009
Come as You Are, Open all Night
Insane-i-tarium and Bar-B-Que
Part I: At first sight:
Another Friday night looking for some party that a friend of mine told me might be happening somewhere around here. The directions were a little sketchy, but it was either look for the party, beer, and hopefully women, or stay at home and debate whether the Victoria’s Secret catalogue was publicity or porn. Lord knows I’ve had that debate far too many times. Bent glass tubes with blue glowing gas telling me that this was Wolfie’s. The sign for some reason brought me out of my mind and made me want to stop. I was surrounded by the chaos of flashing lights and neon — liquor stores, by the hour hotels, cigarettes and painted ladies. Out of all of this I notice Wolfie’s. The blue light tinted the two white doors of the entrance and I noticed in small black letters Come as You Are, Open All Night, Insane-i-tarium and Bar-B-Que. I had to check this out.
April 14, 2009
Meaning of Life
Yes, it is possible to have too much bacon.
April 13, 2009
The Start of Something
the early worm isn’t so lucky
as it is gobbled up at the crack of dawn
by the bird who shit on my windshield
what a way to start a day
bird shit on the windshield
and the wipers just streak the shit
all of which I find so fucking funny
that I laugh so hard that I blow booger snot
out my nose all over the steering wheel
it is not even 7 am and I’m not even out of my driveway
and the day is already bird shit and booger snot
the only thought worse than backing out of the driveway
and getting on with the day
is going back to bed
back to the bitch I married
my first love but not my only
April 12, 2009
Chicago Style Women
Bone white woman quietly wanting for sun
Brown born woman, fast Spanish, and a big smile
Bronze woman flirting, laughing, such a good time
Thick thighed woman layered, bundled, and ready
Pixie sticked woman showing capri ankles
Flared pant hipster in vintage thrift shop treasures
Dark curly
Long, brown, straight
and a razor cut
Some made up
Some pale faced
and some winter blushed
It’s good to be back
April 11, 2009
Excuses
My apologies for not writing sooner,
but, you see, my cat ate my poems.
She must have been hungry,
I can’t think of any other reason.
I bet they were delicious.
There were some real good ones in the bunch.
Maybe even prize winners.
Such a shame.
What’s that you say, I don’t own a cat, I don’t even like cats?
Well, now you know why.
January 20, 2009
This blog is dedicated to a new project that I am starting today, January 20th, 2009 (Obama Inauguration Day). Every day for a year I will write a new poem and post it to this blog. Obviously poetry is all about revision, so these will not be the final drafts, but instead the rough versions which may someday become something better. I was inspired by (stole this idea from) Joe Janes who is just starting his year long sketch a day project. I felt that I needed to put something down on paper (or virtual paper). “Writers write” is the traditional definition of what makes a writer. I have always considered myself a writer, but for the last six months I have not been able to do any creative writing. I am using this as a kick in the ass to get me back on track.
