The Best Years of Our Lives

Rattled Your Cup
March 28, 2010, 9:14 pm
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February 9, 2010

i’m not gonna talk to you, i just wanna get some thai food.
don’t judge me, you hear me. i got nothing to say to you.

my mistake, i just thought, well, you know that you were going to ask me for something.

i’m might, but not now. i might, but no, i’m hungry, move.
maybe on the way back i’ll hit you up, no, never mind.

seems like an honest mistake, you were coming right at me, looking at me.

i’m getting my food and not looking at you anymore, let me be.
when I’ve got some thai food, i’ll get energy and then shake rattle my cup.

i drove by you and you didn’t even look at, man, i looked right at you, you just thrust your arm out at the last minute and

rattled your cup.

No Use No More
March 28, 2010, 9:07 pm
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February 8, 2010

It’s all there exactly as we left it only now its all in boxes faded and priced to sell.
It served me well when I needed it and it served us each as it was made to do.
It’s missing something or marred a bit, but it’ll go well.
Just throw it away.

It’s all there arranged as I left them only now the walls are gone and the rain pours in.
It served me well when I needed it and it did just what it was supposed to do.
It’s an eyesore or a living rotting work of art I suppose.
Just burn it down.

It’s all there somewhere as I remember it being, but it only comes out just all wrong.
It’s served me well when I needed it and they do what I wanted them to do.
It’s my brain playing tricks on me as I say the exact same things.
Just bury me.

Pt. 2 “Timothy Approaches”
March 28, 2010, 9:06 pm
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February 7, 2010

Tad and I were headed back to his or the “safe” side of the river. Although, he was also just a “come here” in his own right, Tad enjoyed a unique status as a local curiosity. He was a true individualist with a heart of gold and not a judging bone in his body so when he and I were out in the Choking Doberman on his side of the river, we essentially got a free pass. The only problem is that we weren’t on his side of the river. We were still on my side where we enjoyed very few privileges aside from the occasional flirtatious glance from a local girl, but this only added fuel to the fire – I’ll get to that later. For now we were about one half mile from the turn off to the Rassanutten River bridge that connected Chamberlain and Leister counties. We were popping homemade cassettes of our fledgling band in and out of the tape deck when we saw the flickering red of a cherry top coming up fast behind us. With the Doberman in this county in this condition with Tad and I inside, we were in for a long night.

Of course we pulled over. Tad was behind the wheel this time as he was sober and I usually took over only when he had somehow procured alcohol which was not the case tonight. We waited as the large vehicle pulled up behind us and basically blinded us with the high set lights of an overly raised, ridiculously ramped up off road vehicle. Tad and I giggled nervously as we waited. I suppose he was doing a plate check. We had nothing to hide and no reason to scramble so we just sat their waiting for our fate. I swear it must have been about ten minutes. Tad finally turned off the car…

“What the hell are you two doin?”

Was all we heard as we were startled into looking out Tad’s window into the close set eyes of twitchy double barrel shotgun. No lie.

Chocking Doberman Meets The CCVFD&RS – Introduction

February 6, 2010

We were driving along in Tad’s 1962 For Galaxie 500. We nicknamed her “Choking Doberman”. I think it was going to be the name of our production company when we got around to becoming media moguls. For the time being, it was a very worn out ’62 Galaxie. As a side note, a few years later I would acquire a 1963 Chevy Nova as my first car and it would be christened something that I think Tad was secretly jealous of. We called her the “Gagging Chihuahua”.

Tad and I were driving the Chocking Doberman pretty much everywhere. I don’t recall how legal she was, but we somehow had both the state inspection and registration stickers proudly displayed on her surprisingly clear windshield. It was in this car on one particular night when we encountered Timmy, the son of an affluent local from my side of the river. Affluence usually guaranteed certain rights of way that the rest of us didn’t have Affluence was determined by the simple fact of where your family was from. If you were from one of the dozen or so local families you had it, if you were a “come here” you didn’t. I was most certainly a “come here”. Tad? He wasn’t even from this side of the river so he was essentially no better than a “tourist” or simply the lowest of the low, at least this was the case in the eyes of the affluent. Tonight was the night that Timmy decided to put the “law” into his own hands.

Shredded Contents in a Small White Package
March 21, 2010, 3:51 pm
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February 5, 2010

I want your time. I want that space between days. I want that possibility.
You know who you are. You spend it carelessly.
You throw it away.
I wish I could dive in and grab it before it smashes on the floor.

I want your day. I want that morning that night. I want that frivolity.
You know where you are. You spend it recklessly.
You let it turn stale.
I wish I could dive in and grab it before it turns to bitter crumbs.

I want your simplicity. I want that empty headedness. I want that calm.
You know what you are. You spend it mindlessly.
You rub it in our faces.
I wish I could dive in and grab it before it turns to dust in your hands.

He Watches Over Us As He Walks Away
March 21, 2010, 3:30 pm
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February 4, 2010

He is an all right sort. He does not let you know what you do not need to know and he does not let you know anything. There is no need to know basis because he does not know so what is there to know after all.

He is an odd sort. He tells you to stop writing and listen to what he saying when he is talking to you. When he is talking to you he wants you to write things down as it is important to remember what he says.

He is a quiet sort. He does not want to hear what is contradictory or what is inconsistent from others. He does not want to tell you what where how when how much or anything like that as you should know.

He is a wanton sort. He has had enough of all of this and that is that and all that and he wants guidance and supervision and instruction and accountability and he wants none of it to ever happen all at the same time.

He is a wondrous sort.

No he is not.

Not really.


Here is a Sin Eater
March 21, 2010, 3:13 pm
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February 3, 2010

This is not sin eater’s lament
But you may think so
I am a sin eater
So you can be beautiful

I walk these streets and where these clothes and eat these foods
So you can be clean

This not a sin eater’s song
But you may think so
I am a sin eater
So you can be at peace
I live in this place and work this job and live alone
So you can be free

This is not a sin eater’s psalm
But you may think so
I am a sin eater
So you can be loved
I am impure and I am grotesque and I am unhealthy
So you can live

This not a sin eater’s cry
Even if you think so
I am a sin eater
Look at me
When I turn to you tell me what I want to hear
Do they gods pray to us
For forgiveness
For their failings
For their fatal flaws

If they do
Will you join me
And eat their sin?