Tag Archives: creative writing

Sailor Jerry Rum Label Love Missives: Escorting Disaster

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Escorting Disaster 2

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Waive That Flag

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Waive That Flag

It occurs to me that there
are far better things to wave today
than The Flag
(as if it’s the only one).
Things more indicative of the
overall State Of Affairs
in America,
things more representational of our
Many Freedoms
via American Exceptionalism.

For example,
Supreme Court Majority Opinions
opining that Bits Of The Bible
and WASP Hobbyists
are better than doctors
and women
(especially women)
because even though they’re
totally free
we can’t allow them to be
that free.
Wave that opinion proud, America
for you are free
for the most part.

Or perhaps
Unemployment Registries
at seven-point-who-gives-a-fuck percent
because Freedom does not apply
to the lazy
and the willfully dispossessed
which of course
they are,
right America?
Wave it proud, America
for you are free
for the most part.

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Sailor Jerry Rum Label Love Missives: Same

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Sailor Jerry Rum Label Love Missives: Doctor’s Orders

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Sailor 019

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Sailor Jerry Rum Label Love Missives: Dig That Siren Sound

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sailor 018

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Reading About Drugs, Booze, & Transvestites Under Academic/Artistic Pretenses

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I had the honor of being invited to read a poem at The WALL Literary Journal’s event at Saddleback College on October 24. The poem, entitled “Experimentation,” was published earlier this year in the 2013 edition of the journal. I was admittedly a bit shaky going into it, as I had never done a reading in an academic environment (as most of my past readings were conducted in bar rooms, drug dens, etc. to mostly uninterested audiences). What’s more, I had no idea beforehand was going to be filmed and that they decided to headline me, so to speak. Anyways, it was a great time and, in spite of my nervousness and lack of practice (or perhaps because of it), I think I did all right.

A Self-Protesting Eulogy Penned By Shaky Guilty Survivor’s Hands (For Dan)

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A Self-Protesting Eulogy Penned By Shaky Guilty Survivor’s Hands (For Dan)

What is a eulogy?
A eulogy is a poor summation
of a life far more complicated
and diverse than
words on a page
(even the kind ones
of which you are more than deserving,
Dan).

A eulogy is a post-dated bad check
passed between shaky guilty
survivor’s hands and
Death,
that most crooked and
undiscriminating of merchants.

A eulogy is a love letter
an affidavit
a confession
(on the part of the guilty party–
the bereaved)
with postage that falls
one cent short
and will always
inevitably
eternally
return to sender.

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Sailor Jerry Rum Label Love Missives: Don’t You Dare

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Sailor 017

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Sailor Jerry Rum Label Love Missives: Proof

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Sailor 016

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No Nostalgia Sundays (Time Travel Edition III): Oblivion Buddies

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No Nostalgia Sundays (Time Travel Edition III): Oblivion Buddies

In many ways, the Acid Kid was my soulmate, a kindred spirit that I ended up sharing a very important and sizeable chunk of my life with. We weren’t lovers, although we spent so much time together that others may have suspected otherwise. We just understood each other on a deep, unspoken level and, moreover, were equally fucked up.

The first time I laid eyes on the kid, he was lounging out in front of the student apartment building I lived in wearing a Velvet Underground T-shirt, a purple baseball cap, high top Chuck Taylors, and Harry Potter glasses. At this point, I hadn’t made a single real friend at Berkeley. I had friends in San Francisco and Oakland, but none at school. That particular night, I had been drinking tequila very openly on the sidewalk in front of the building and hurling drunken verbal insults at every college kid that walked past, half trying to make friends and half trying to get myself expelled from college so I could have an excuse to go back home.

When I saw the Acid Kid though, I didn’t insult him; I told him I liked The Velvet Underground very much and that all these other college kids were into lame shit like Nickelback and Creed and that I was probably going to end up murdering my roommate because he would play said lame shit at unacceptable volumes and that it was cool that at least one other person liked ok music at this fucking university. He told me he played piano and worshipped the Beatles. I told him I played guitar and worshipped The Replacements. We were instantly and irrevocably best friends and completely inseparable for the next four years.

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