text

oh where is your inflammatory writ?
your text that would inside a light be lit
our music deserving, devotion unswerving
cry Do i deserve her with unflagging fervor
well, no we do not if we cannot get over it.

but what's it mean when suddenly we're spent?
tell me true,
ambition came and reared its head and went,
far from you-
even mollusks have weddings, though solemn and leaden
but your dirge for the dead, and take no jam on your bread
just a supper of song and a waltz through your empty bed

and all it once it came to me
and i wrote him hunched 'til four thirty
but that vestal light, it burns out with the night
in spite of all that time that we spent on it
on one bedraggled ghost of a sonnet
while outside, the wild boars root
without bending a bough underfoot
oh it breaks my heart, i don't know how they do it
so don't ask me

and as for my inflammatory writ.
well, i wrote it and i was not inflamed one bit
advice from the master derailed that disaster
he said Hand that pen over to me, poetaster
while across the great plains, keen and lovely and awful
you eulolate the lost Great American Novels
an unlawful lot, left to stutter and freeze, floodlit.
But at least they didn't run, to their undying credit.

All I've got is words

Words, with friends..

oh glorious glory be,

my federal and state tax returns have arrived!!!!!!!!!

In memory of Etta James: At Last.

I have been, too tired to write here, for ages.  I've also been too busy.  I've also been dealing with things, that, well I haven't been able to exhale for a while.

I finally can, really.  After tomorrow night, I finally really will.  And I know I've been saying that for an age, at this point.  But no, things are finally wrapped up.  Like really there.  Work-things.  Finally.  They've finally, finally gotten there. To be more specific-- well, I've had two major projects going on in the last year and change... (like November '10 and on...)  And I've been vague about them, for all sorts of reasons, one being that I just don't like to TALK about things before they're certain, another being that talking about work is thoroughly uninteresting, and a third being that I haven't been quite sure whether I want to preserve any mystery as to my identity on here.

And I've been vague about EVERYTHING else which makes for a damn dull blog too, because anything interesting would inevitably be read the wrong way and offend people I know, and anything I'd want to write about would involve, well, who else but people I know.

So, in short, though.  My two major projects are a record, and a film, both serious time-consuming and difficult endeavors, to make from scratch, involving endless steps, and many many people, and besides the creative and technical processes that involve the works themselves is the overseeing, supervising element of getting a team together, motivating people to work, navigating individual personalities, establishing boundaries, establishing respect, learning to delegate, achieving a proper balance of patience and assertiveness, picking your battles, crisis-management, self-promotion, fostering relationships, ultimate humility, shamelessness in asking for favors, fearlessness in taking risks, strength and flexibility, endless amounts of tedious admin work, etc etc and on and on.

But somehow it seems it's all gotten done.

As of like, today, really.

And now I get to fucking exhale like for real.

It's getting warm, with cold breezes.  It reminds me of 2010.  Winter 2010.  Winter of 2010 is in the wind.  Winter of 2010, I realize I was... as free as I've ever been, as open, as wondrous... the simplest things, were so magical.  I never felt so innocent before and I haven't since.  Never look back and try to recapture a moment in time; it doesn't work.  But I feel like it's time to go there again.  I can feel its blue and white light in my bones.

well hotdamn

longtime no see.

i, uh, i've had a rocky start to the new year but now it seems like things have calmed, gelled, and are right.  clean houses, clean houses.

i have several big projects coming up.  i dont feel like pitching them on here.  it has kept me busy.  its a lot.  emotional upheavals as well. 

i had more to write.

2012

We make such an issue out of the New Year, that eve, the way we spend it.  Every single one has been wack.  They've had no bearing on the following year.  Not really.  But if this, 2012, in its infancy, cantankerous and volatile and painful as its been only just THUS FAR, this colicky baby-- I'm in for it.  Hell.  Just hell.  Everything is over.  I'm a dumb fuck.  My life has been a trainwreck.  And it's over.  I had credit card fraud.  And now I have -15 dollars and a rent check about to bounce.  I'm done.  I have no job, no income, no career.  I'm done, and I deserve it, because I'm damaged.  And I will go the way of my mother before me.

Contentions:

I don't agree with that--

I'm eating mashed potatoes.  That I made last night.  Right out of the huge pot.

I'm watching Pawn Stars.  I love that show and I wanna go visit that store in Vegas and look at some crazy old antiques and Americana.

You play so beautifully it makes me cry.  I wish you'd break the rules more often.

I'm thirsty for water and nothing else. 

It may be superficial, supercilious, a superfluous something or all the aforementioned, but one of the traits I still most admire in a man is a good solid poker face.

I haven't been able to sleep for the past five days. 

Mostly, I've lost my taste for cigarettes.