Owned Pt 1

When I first bought my house it was a strange feeling. Up until that point I had not owned anything of truly significant monetary value. I can only describe the feeling as one of density. My whole world became filled with a whole other level of responsiblity. At the same time there is also a feeling of great pride in owning a home.
I wanted to do so much to improve the house. In my mind I had already built a whole new addition, a second bathroom, a studio and an office to work on my great American novel. This was my great adventure. My journey to the new world. I was a colonist. This my property. My land and I was going to build my castle.
So I started planning. I began my DIY lessons. Needless to say, they were short lessons, and I failed them all. The first lesson you learn about home ownership is about money. What I mean by this is that when you rent a house you are not responsible for ancilary costs. These are costs like fixing a drain or getting some crazy rabid squirrels who set up shop inside your roof to leave. These are the type of costs a landlord would normally cover. This is the first and often the last lesson.

Captain Suitcoat

Woody Allen-esque, you would be
I would describe you as much as you
could be described
gangly, tip tap tappy
scribbling notes, jarring me, us
my type of crazy
ready for a joke
darker the better, bomb ass
humor waiting in the trenches
and just full of wit, too much, maybe
interesting
I know you hate trees and rain
in poems, makes you want to punch your own
card
I could laugh at you
instead
I will laugh with you
Have I met you?
I am you

Facial

The razor itself is approximately 3 inches long. The handle is surrounded by a sort of approachable green plastic, semi transparent gel. Running up the middle of the razor is a white center piece with 6 different sized/shaped holes inter spliced up the middle. The head is white as well with three thin blades and a moister strip. The moisture strip is designed to keep your skin from drying out. This is clearly a woman's razor.

I mention that it is a woman's razor because I cannot grow facial hair. To explain, I can grow what might be interpreted as hair on my chin and upper lip. These spindly almost plastic like follicle growths dot my face only when I forget to shave. It looks just awful. It is patchy and can best be described as a sad prepubescent mess.

It would be fine if the hair did not grow at all. That would be OK. Instead I still have to shave like every other man. I cannot escape my strange facial fur. If I go any length of time without a shave I will not grow a beard, but instead a grimy mess of fury falseness. This leads people to give me odd concerned looks, and to ask questions about whether or not I am alright. No sir, I am not alright, look at my face.

I do not purchase razors as my only protest. Yes that is right, I protest my lack of facial manliness with my refusal of currency. This, I have come to realize, has exasperated my lack of man-li-tude. Now I must shave my very feminine face with this very feminine razor.

I hate how democratic the green and white colors are. They seem to say "hey we can work this out buddy" or "should we talk about our feelings?". A man razor would tell this razor where it can go with it's friendly approachable color. It can go right to hell!

Give me a chain saw blade to shave my face, and then we can separate the men from the ones with tiny alien facial tentacles.

Ekphrasis

to complicate with great
virtue in attempt
to look without
yet within us
the painting sees
a deeper more
more, more
but ultimately less
need for closure

Most Prized

Olive loves her new shoes.
Loves.
I cannot get her
to take them off
when she must go
 to sleep she will fight
with all the vigor of
a gladiator
she will hate us
in our parental tyranny
when she wakes her
first word
 "shoes?"

Color Blind

50% of men they say
Genes always ready to screw you over
So I wear primary colors
instead of plaid pants and orange
barrel t-shirts with purple
socks
I love your silver car
it's green
Why the red shirt?
it's purple

work

grind......................................................................................
.............................................................................................
.........................................blink.............................................
.............................................................................................
.....................................................................................slump

Callous

eyes do not water it
all down
a lion does not apologize for killing
a gazelle
she must keep the heart
closed I tell her I
clarify and
still she looks at me
banging my pretentious
soup box
fist
In vain I
search the kitchen for an
answer to why I
am so callous
I back down
I lie which
is the only

good thing

I have ever done

for her

(From) Reflect

"How can you be so callous?"

Don had to think about this for longer than he probably should have. Sarah just stared at him waiting for the answer she wanted. He was suppose to say he wasn't, or didn't mean to be. Don had always been a rough sort of person. Some would say he was "gruff" or a "strait shooter", but Don knew he was just mean. His father was mean and he was mean.

"I'm sorry, I really am"

If you would have asked Don why he had lied he would not be able to answer. This was not his way. He was mean. To lie like this was the kind of nice he never was or could recall being. No, Don would have said he was callous because Sarah was foolish. Sarah was too ready to love. Don knew love, or to be more specific the ntion of love, was just unattainable. So Don had watched a succession of assholes break her heart. Now he had to tell her that she was a fool, and he said he was sorry for it.

Sarah had never been the sister he wanted. The sister he wanted was no sister at all. But Don could not be himself with those peircing tragic eyes forcing the loving lie. So Don lied to his sister and it was the kindest thing he had ever done for her.

Garage Light

I slump up the back  stairs

This Tuesday cannot end soon enough
I am a kicking bag, I am an paraplegic sparring partner
the kitchen lights, always fluorescent
Erin hates them
little mercury curly fries,
shed ambiance on the yard

She always forgets to turn on the garage light
Some nightly thief stole her new bike
still she forgets every   single    ......oh who cares
so I slump

through the back door window
I stop and watch as Erin washes the dishes
I do this until she notices
she smiles when she catches me
in awe of her
and lets me into our 120 year old home

"Hey"
"Hi"
"Long day?"

I just kiss her

Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday...Sunday
These are the iron days
I look in the fridge, shuffle about, go into the living room
let the TV watch me

Dinner is ready, Olive is in bed
It's late, It's always late on these days

"Can you do me a favor?"
"I would do anything you ask."
"I know..."

New Days

son is far
son is close
new to me
new to him
father and son
have just met
or will be meeting
after 10 years
sun is close
Solar Flair!