Tag Archives: spilled ink

Sailor Jerry Rum Label Love Missives: Pick-Up Line-Break

Standard

Pick-Up Line-Break Read the rest of this entry

Advertisements

I Am A Grown Man And I Collect Clowns

Standard

Author reading an excerpt of his personal narrative at the 2014 WALL Literary Journal public reading.

Welcome (Back) To The Grotesquerade

Standard
Welcome (Back) To The Grotesquerade

It’s a thin borderline
that separates me
(and me)
from a full-blown personality disorder.

Put Casanova
(or is it Nasa Cova now?)
back in a coma—
he’s awoken from his limp-dicked slumber
and he’s eyeing escorts
and flirting with friendlies
like a romantic in retrograde.
But at least he brought flowers,
right?

Take Cadillac de Bergerac’s
binoculars away—
he’s peeping on the ribs again
and what’s worse
has the audacity to refer
to women
as ribs
during his Evening treetop misadventures.
Just steal his fucking valve stems
and be done with it,
man.

But Johnny Warpath won’t make
like a tree at all.
Turns out he doesn’t only come out
when I drink my gin.
No—
he ain’t Dr. Jimmy, man.
He ain’t Mr. Hyde neither
and he ain’t hiding no more.

Read the rest of this entry

Nostalgia Is, Essentially, Temporal Epilepsy

Standard
Nostalgia Is, Essentially, Temporal Epilepsy

I don’t have a checkered past—
It’s more polkadot
or pinstripe
or paisley
even.

Some of it I’ll never forget, but more of it I’ll never remember.
And thank heavens for that:
I’ve read the police blotters I’ve made cameos in
and if I can take their word for it
then I’d just rather leave certain things blotted, please.
How do I look on paper?
Well, that all depends on the paper.
(College transcripts and rap sheets, unfortunately, are two entirely different kinds of coverage.)

One of my finest moments:
Being asked by a cop what I was on probation for
and
without wasting any time
replying
“Bad grades”
and smirking in his stupid fucking pig face
because it was true
and I thought myself
oh so clever.
The moral of the story?
Hubris gets you handcuffs
and my answer to the same question today
would be very different, indeed.

Read the rest of this entry

Fukushima Fallout Blues

Standard
Fukushima Fallout Blues

I’m seeing radiation loud
In standard issue fog clouds—
I’ve got them Fukushima Fallout Blues.

I’m walking the dog
With matching gas masks on—
I’ve got them Fukushima Fallout Blues.

I’m calling family and friends
Telling them I love them, but it’s the end—
I’ve got them Fukushima Fallout Blues.

I’m avoiding Pacific fish
And fishy pacifists—
I’ve got them Fukushima Fallout Blues.

I’m flying a kite into that nuclear night
But that line’s been used and the core’s been fused—
I’ve got them Fukushima Fallout Blues.

Read the rest of this entry

Sailor Jerry Rum Label Love Missives: The Difference Between You And Me

Standard

sailor 023 Read the rest of this entry

Sailor Jerry Rum Label Love Missives: The Hopeless Hopings of a Fanciful Delusionist

Standard

photo-77 Read the rest of this entry

Sailor Jerry Rum Label Love Missives: Same

Standard

sailor 020 Read the rest of this entry

Sailor Jerry Rum Label Love Missives: Doctor’s Orders

Standard

Sailor 019

Read the rest of this entry

Sailor Jerry Rum Label Love Missives: Dig That Siren Sound

Standard

sailor 018

Read the rest of this entry