October 2009
25 posts
‘The Navy version of no-homo is submarine,’ he says. ‘Like when you’re in the torpedo room and your buddy licks the tip, that don’t count.’
She proudly displayed the fragrant arrangement. ‘Took it from last night,’ she sniffed at a white lily. ‘Lord bless him.’
While chasing the train, the bill of my cap hit his neck. His look made me apologize for my height. He never did for his pace.
She’s a sinkeater, she is, dining nightly over running tap to lose the gap between eating and washing her favorite dish.
A panhandler shook a jingling paper bag in my direction. Without thinking, I took it. Once the yelling subsided, I felt obliged to give.
I hesitated crossing the street, until John Waters appeared, directing me forward with twisted fingers under a broken yellow umbrella.
Broken windowpane dabbed with raindrops in the dark. Alarm clock radio softly glowing one past midnight. So ends day one year 26.
This last quarter century blew. On to the next one.
I sneezed on the mic by accident. Suddenly no one had a question. Made my job easier.
She slyly slid me the voter registration slip. ‘I already am,’ I said. ‘Do it again.’ Fearing more hours in the DMV line, I complied.
He peddles his ware, books from the 80s, yelling profanities at anyone buying material he deems indecent, which is most of what he sells.
They bruise and scratch the best of the fruit in the mornings, and at the end of their shifts, they take their pick.
‘Breathe,’ she penned on her wrist as reminder to forget this job meant life or debt.
There is a legend of a frog that spat fire and drank lava. To spoil the ending, he croaked.
A knitting woman. A reading man. Two ladies converse while another plugs her ear with music. Our train shuffles forward. There is the night.
After his third request for coffee the waiter finally brought over a cup, and then promptly without placing it on the table took it back.
Staring at the air, we awkwardly walked into one of our exes, flirting at the bar. I was the sacrificial lamb.
Making way for the blind man to pass, the big guy’s backpack ruined the sitting lady’s make up by pushing the Dostoyevsky onto her face.
Waiting for the daycare to open, the girl said she was cold. ‘Go stand in the sun,’ the mother said, pointing at the middle of the road.
Your sweat coats my skin like cement when we meet. So when you’re in my arms, it’s best to hold tight and keep perspiring.
I held each door open for the old lady coming into the library. When I was leaving, I found her waiting downstairs just to return the favor.
My hands full, steadying the laundry bag, the preacher reached deep into my pant pocket and left a Chick Tract. ‘Believe in Jesus,’ he said.
And when we woke the stars were still there, unlike our tequila.
Sadness is my father’s voice when he recalls Padang, the aunts & uncles I’ll never meet, and the friends he’ll never again see.
I once was your Craigslist Missed Connection. You finally found me today on twitter. No I don’t have that fire truck costume anymore. Sorry.