Archive for July, 2009



Fighting sleep again, but for good reason, son.  Gonna bust some prissy prose before I hits the sack, yo.  Just because. Holla’.

Each passing stop yielded a new horde of passengers. Huddled next to the window, the 14 Mission line continued its slow trudge towards the top of the hill. Years past, it was the hissing static of a worn out cassette providing the soundtrack to the commute back home.  Now, it was the dutiful consistency of compressed digital tracks that blocked out the hum and yell of life’s daily grind.

The street names were the same. The stores that lined these streets were not. Gone was the Kentucky Fried Chicken by Bosworth. A steeple of a condominium complex replaced the Colonel’s crackish scent.  Some things shouldn’t change.

Yes, some things shouldn’t change.

Jam of the Day: “Blood Bank” Bon Iver


By the River

At the confluence of  smooth bromegrass and the dust choked road, a spark held eternal disappeared.

You never had the chance, huh?


They both hunked over the dilapidated railing. The sun’s belly was full and its descent to sleep cast its amber glow.

She leave a note?

If you call it one.

What you mean?

Forget it.

C’mon, man.

It was nothing really.

Then it shouldn’t be that hard to tell me what it  said.

A gallery of crickets had sharpened their scrapers ready to sing their nightly swoon song, as one of them finally stood straight to head back to the car.

He could tell the other was starting to get a bit agitated with the guessing game.

All she wrote was goodbye, alright.

That’s it?

That’s it.

Is she gonna have the…

I’ll never know, will I?

Well…did you want her to? I mean, if she, wanted to…you know.

Yea, sure.

So, why did she leave?

He didn’t want to explain as he had already given this soliloquy to himself a million times over.  He had always felt the same, this spark. He knew she wasn’t, but was touched nonetheless that she would, were she. Touched and validated. Validated that he knew what he let languish for eons was real. Yet, circumstance held its vicious grip to kill its existence.

It’s getting late, man.

Yea. We should head back.


I wasn’t there when she needed me.


The crickets were in full stride, almost drowning the engine’s rumble. He looked over at his friend, who was already on another plane, maybe trying to define what was, and what wasn’t to be.

Jam of the Day: “Sweet Carolina” Ryan Adams


Nice Dream

Oh, Radiohead…

Nice Dream

“They love me like I was a brother
They protect me
Listen to me
They dug me my very own garden
Gave me sunshine
Made me happy
Nice dream

I call up my friend, the good angel
But she’s out with
Her ansaphone
She says she would
Love to come help
But the sea would electrocute us all
Nice dream

If you think that you’re strong enough
If you think you belong enough

Nice dream.”

….it’s always harsh, the first stab of his toe into the foamy diaspora of the ocean.  Squinting past the horizon, looking for some netherworld past the sun’s daily death, he turned his back from the bright reach.

Why, he muttered to himself. He knew the answer, and in 2 hours, he’d pack the last of his boxes before cramming his life away into some U-Haul for an old life he left years ago.

He never liked stashing his cigarette butts underneath the sand. As if he stashed away his trivial proclivities into those same stale boxes waiting in the truck, he lit another cigarette while hunching over to bury the half-lit stick in the damp sand.

In the distance, he sought to embarass his blooming nostalgia with the indifferent packs of people crowding the boardwalk. He only embarassed himself.

No good, he whispered to the screaming wind.

Fumbling in his pockets, he took a third cigarette out.  He didn’t bury the second cig. He flung it out to the black sea, knowing nothing of tomorrow.

He grinned.

Jam of the Day – “True Love Waits” Radiohead

July 2009
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