Monday, October 7, 2013

Day 30: Pobject's stuffed animal

The teddy bear I didn’t win
by tossing rings
or throwing darts
is absurdly tall.

It’s taller than you.

It’s purple and plush
and has ears whose insides
are white velvet.

I didn’t take it home for you,
I never made it to the carnival.
If I told you why,
you wouldn’t believe me.

See, there was
this Iranian guy at school,
a scholar as old as Zoroaster,
and when I tried...

...it doesn’t matter.

In any case.
It can’t sit straight,
a slouching victim of gravity.
It beams with a trefoil smile and seems to say
that everything will be all right,
and eventually it will.

Thursday, September 19, 2013

Day 29: Lobject’s Hometown



Monica didn’t care what time we left, even if my gin and tonic hangover put us behind schedule. The last few bucks we had were taking us home for the weekend where laundry would be cleaned and the empty cooler in the backseat would get packed with meats, veggies, and chicken salad that 50% of the time we finished on the drive back to college.

I never slept in the passenger seat, but I wanted to as soon as the sun disappeared. I picked songs. We talked and smoked and rarely stopped. We made it in four hours once. That silver Altima took us to the Charlotte skyline more time than I could count. It was the best part of the trip. We knew we’d see the lights curving onto 485. They always glowed and waved welcome home.

Tuesday, August 13, 2013

Day 30: Gas Station


If we had a meter, would we stop
more often? For a good meal or 
check up?  Replace coffee with
green tea?  Spend an hour in
the sun rather than in front of
a screen?

You'll have to remind me to pay attention 
to myself.  If not, my tank may run until
it just runs dry.

Day 29: That guy


“Milk and cookies!... You would think there would be more debauchery going on back stage at a rock show, right?!”

Chris Scruggs smiled with ease but a hint of folk legend swagger.  We were caught off balance, just leaving one heaven of M. Ward’s show.  Chris entered the silver-door bused threshold and quickly returned with a milk carton on hand.  “We even have brownies.” 

The words he spoke seemed as if they belong to an apple-cheeked schoolboy, and while his cheeks were appled, he had just played bass for one of the most amazing, seated events I could have ever witnessed. 

There wasn’t an opening act, and one wasn’t needed.  The heartbeat bass opened, begging to be broken by M.’s rumpled voice and salt and pepper hair:  

Don’t they love you in mysterious ways?

Chris’s haircut could have passed for a Beatle but seemed off pitch next to today’s, high fi, FM sound.   His smile was almost off-putting as his gleamed so sweetly; my more cynical side almost wished it cavities.  But I wouldn’t bother, assuming there were as many multi-colored toothbrushes, toothpastes and floss cases on that tour bus as there were band members.  I imagined them, lined up at the mirror checking their gums lines and

Yea, you say that was then and this is now.  Put a dollar in the machine and you’ll remember how…”

His mention of milk and cookies wasn’t but felt inviting.  His image seemed to echo a cleansed self – one who put all of his faith in the lifted, but suffered all of his faith when they failed.  His heart still beating - stronger than a heavy metal bullet…  He started to evolve into a cartoon character.

“I know when everything feels wrong.  I got some hard, hard proof in this song.  Although when everything feels right…  Some lucky night. 

We had happened to exit through the right door.  A happy accident.  How often does this actually happen?  I don’t remember whose idea it was, but I know it wasn’t mine.  I want to contribute it to both Steph and Will.  As we walked out through this odd exit – positioned close to the stage and away from the crowd – we were greeted by a grand, mammoth tour bus.  The only time this could be a good sign is in a “hold me closer tiny dancer,” Almost Famous kind of situation. 

You say the money just aint what it used to be… and, man how we use to tear apart this town.  Put a dollar into the machine, and we’ll remember how. 

Chris led us to a small group and the venue’s back door.  As there were a few people gathered around, there was enough time for us to observe how M. reacted to different approaches.  Rules or guideline began to take shape in my mind:  No pictures.  He is friendly but painfully introverted, not in an obnoxious ‘I feel like I am famous’ obnoxious kind of way.  Approach him with a smile but let him initiate the interaction.

By that point, he had put on his thick-framed glasses.  They may have passed as a ‘hipster accessory’ except he didn’t wear them on stage or with such bravado.  He seemed less like the a-dork-able black-rimmed caricature and more like Buddy Holly. 

I know when everything feels wrong… I got some hard, hard proof in this song.  I’ll know when everything feels right… some lonesome night. 


Tuesday, July 23, 2013

Day 28: Lobject’s Imaginary Friend

Thanks to Dr. Suess for my inspiration. :-)
You’ve got it all
wrong
I’m not Doc

I’m not Doc
Doc I’m not

That Doc I’m not
That Doc I’m not!
I’m not him
that Doc I’m not

Do you like
to build with blocks?
I do not like to
Doc I’m not.
I do not like
to build with blocks.

Would you like them
on the floor?
Would you like them
in a store?

I would not like them
on the floor
I would not like them
in a store.
I do not like
to build with blocks
I do not like them,
Doc I’m not

Would you like to build
a house?
Would you like to build
with a mouse?

I do not want to build
a house.
I do not want to build
with a mouse.
I do not like blocks
on the floor
I do not like them
in the store.
I do not like to build with blocks
I do not like them, Doc I’m not.

Would you play with them
in a box?
Would you play with them
with a fox?

Not in a box.
Not with a fox.
Not to build a house.
Not to build with a mouse.
I would not play with them on the floor.
I would not play with them in a store.
I would not like to play with blocks.
I do not like them, Doc I’m not.

Would you? Could you?
build on a dock?
Come now! Play!
Here, have some blocks.

I would not,
could not,
on a dock.

You may like to throw blocks.
You will see.
You may like to throw blocks
from a tree?
I would not, could not throw from tree.
Nor play on the dock! You let me be.

I do not like blocks on the floor
I do not like blocks in a store
I do not want to build a house
I do not want to build with a mouse
I do not like to build with blocks
I do not like them, Doc I’m not.

The park! The park!
The park! The park!
Could you, would you
in the park?

Not in the park! Not in a tree!
Not on the floor! Doc! Let me be!
I would not, could not, on the floor.
I could not, would not, in the store.
I will not build with a mouse
I will not build blocks into a house.
I do not like blocks, Doc I’m not.

You do not like
to build with blocks?

I do not
like them,
Doc I’m not.

Could you, would you,
build with a goat?

I would not,
could not.
with a goat!

Would you, could you,
build on a boat?

I could not, would not, on a boat.
I would not, will not, with a goat.
Not on a dock! Not in a tree!
Not in a park! You let me be!
I do not play with blocks in a box
I do not play with blocks with a fox
I will not build blocks into a house.
I do not build blocks with a mouse.

I do not like
to build
with blocks!

I do not like them,
Doc I’m not.

You do not like blocks
SO you say.
Have some! Build! Play!
And you may.
Try to build and you may sway.

If you will let me be,
I will try them.
You will see.

Say!
I am not your friend Doc.
We must wear the name socks.

Clearly!
Doc likes to play with blocks!
I’m sure! He likes to build on the floor!
And he would play with them in a store!
And he would build a house ...
And he would build it with a mouse
And in the park. And on the dock.
And in a tree.
Doc loves to build I’m sure I see.

So please go find Doc.
Doc will play with blocks in a box.
And he will play with them with a fox.
And he will build them into a house.
And he will build with a mouse.

That Doc I’m not
That Doc I’m not!
I’s sorry but
that Doc I’m not

Monday, July 22, 2013

Day 29: Pobject's Hole-in-the-Wall

outside the city sits in the sun
in an uncanny valley a mile away
in not-quite-clever imitation
of a good time

when we break cover
it won’t be a block
from our off-strip bar
to the 7-11
and the tattoo parlor
by its side

you can get your snowstorm
and I can get my dice
from burly boys
with cenophobic canvases
for skin

[Confession: old habits die hard; I worked on this poem for significantly more than half an hour.]

Thursday, July 18, 2013

Day 27: Lobject’s Stuffed Animal


 Squinted eyes is never a good sign
with tears puddling on either side
of the pulled sheet
Hard to say what’s so horrible
probably me—I was downstairs
when it slipped through the small
slots and you were asleep
What could you have done?
The crinkly teal elephant is face
down on the floor now
“It’s ok” won’t cut it
in the doorway only
a moment to realize laundry
isn’t getting done today