Thursday, November 07, 2013

Ad Copy


Thursday, September 26, 2013


A poem is a joke that isn't funny.

Left over

She tried to throw away the left-overs
They were only one day old
I stopped her

The next day
They were a day older
I tossed them

Not all Superheroes wear capes

Monday, August 05, 2013

Turn Off, Tune out, Drop In

She was sitting on the still wet ground outside of Peet's Coffee and Tea with several backpacks, a garbage bag filled with clothes and one of those silly plastic skateboards with roller blade wheels and a hinge in the middle. I figured her to be the child of working class parents. Maybe her folks were assholes, maybe they were very nice people who missed their daughter. They could even be both I suppose.

Her hat was flipped up and on the bill she'd written "Tune in, turn on, drop out."

I wanted to tell her "Hey, the guy that popularized that saying had a fucking book deal! And a nice degree to fall back on. Don't listen to that trust fund asshole."

Then I thought of her peers, most of whom were probably studying subjects they didn't care about on their way to work jobs they hated as they watched the years race by at amazing speeds.

So, I bought her something warm to drink and shared more practical advice. "Hey, having this drink in your hand they have to let you sit inside where it's dry and warm."

She said "Thanks man." in a really sincere voice that made me want to give her a hug. I drove back to my shitty job. Fuck Timothy Leary.

They're gonna send a car

I have a day job
That I don't do
But they don't fire me
I don't know why

I'm gonna be interviewed
on basic cable
they're gonna send a car

I can't pay my bills
without this ruse
consolation prize?
They're gonna send a car

You may think I'm failure
I get older and older
I still have this day job
but they're gonna send a car

love of my life
I know it's hard
but they're gonna send a car

we'll get there
we're on our way
they're gonna send a car

(And when the interview is done
the car is gonna bring me back.)

Wednesday, January 30, 2013

Brown Colored Glasses

But master, the student whined, Why strive for enlightenment just to see that the world is shit?
"The world is shit"
The Master, whose real name was Frank, repeated
as he flipped an order of hash-browns, extra crispy, on the grill.
"You ever scratch your ass
and then pick your nose
and then wander off wondering why everything smells like ass?
Blow your nose
Wash your ass
Quit being such a party pooper
Bring the man his hash browns, and then lets go suck the nitrous out of the whipped cream canisters in the walk-in
Life is good."