Eagles On My Face

Uncle George (by way of Richard Brautigan)

2010-08-17T12:15:00.000-07:00

Your hat

Gone now these

Twenty one years

Your addictions

Gone now

Your hat

It's in a drawer

For your birthday

I take it out

Wear it around

Tipping it

At all the pretty ladies

How To Prevent Asexual Assault

2010-06-10T08:41:00.000-07:00

1. If someone is invading your space with a complete lack of sexuality, remember your elbow is the strongest point on your body. Use it!
2. Trust your gut. If you cannot imagine someone doing unspeakable things to you, NEVER let them into your car.
3. If someone who is happiest alone comes along and makes you feel uncomfortable, hold your hand in a stop position, scream “NO!” and back away.
4. When someone asks to borrow your pen, and you cannot place them on the sexual continuum, DO NOT hand them your pen. Instead, throw it on the ground and ask them to pick it up.
5. AVOID HANGING OUT IN BUSHES where individuals who reproduce by cell division, spore formation, fission and budding are likely to hide.
6. If you think you are being followed by someone who has no desire to have sex with you,WALK BRISKLY TO A THRIFT STORE, buy a sheer crop top, then step out and confront your assailant head on by turning your cheek and biting your lower lip.
7. Before leaving a party with someone you just met or don’t know well, make certain they are not an amoeba.
8. Never drink from an open container or punch bowl held by someone wearing an “Asexuals Party Hardest” T-shirt.
9. Understand that agreeing to go back to someone’s place can indicate a willingness to play Bananagrams so have the forethought to DRINK HEAVILY AND DRESS PROVOCATIVELY.
10. When a person attempts to tell you they are living happily and sexlessly ever after, force yourself to vomit on them. Remember you are the victim. You have nothing to feel guilty or ashamed about.

Stuff I Overheard and Jotted Down With a Giant Pencil

2010-06-06T11:51:00.000-07:00

Tranny At Lucy's Laundry Mart, Sunset Blvd.:

"I’m going to stop by West Hollywood for a little while, maybe make some money, then stop by a bar and have a drink, then maybe go home and make some dinner.”

Sales Woman at a Chevron Station, Redding, CA:

" 'K, I'm gonna go smoke, an after that, I'm gonna cut meat, an after that, I'm gonna go home."

In My Own Head, Cuckoo's Nest Roundabout, CA:

"...Oh, god. Seeing chipped nail polish on a corpse is so sad because it makes them a real person who had pride in how they looked, or who didn’t--who let their polish chip and didn’t wipe it off or repaint it. That's it. I'm never getting on another plane. Well, if I do, I'm painting my toenails perfectly. But, are my toes still going to be on me after my plane nose dives 30,000 feet and bursts into a fireball? What's the point, what's the point, what's the point. Fuck."

If somebody would please let ME write the elevator warning sign.

2010-05-18T13:52:00.000-07:00

If elevator doors fail to open, do not become alarmed. It's pretty unlikely that you will run out of air or are stuck in here with a someone who's never had the opportunity to act out their bloodlust. Chances are also slim that this elevator will start dropping uncontrollably. Simply keep ignoring the other person (or persons) in here with you and frantically press the button. Then say "Shit! Fuck!" when you realize you've been pressing the 4 button, not the Alarm button. Calmly begin repeatedly pressing the Alarm button. Now, look over your shoulder and exchange frantic expressions with the others--your shared trauma now makes it socially acceptable to acknowledge their existence. Next, step away from the Alarm button and allow someone else to violently stab at it since they can probably do it better. If you are pregnant, now would be a good time for your water to break. If you're a complete asshole with anger issues, and your monster only stays bound by societal constraints if your excursions into the world are brief and unruffled, then start coming undone in an alarming way that no one else can relate to (even though they are also trapped in an elevator). See that woman in the corner crying and hugging herself? Tell her she's making everything a thousand times worse. When she starts to cry even harder, shriek that no man could ever love her. Next, notice that everyone is now staring at you in various states of petrification and raise your arms above your head and begin thrashing them around as if you are grabbing invisible things and really trashing the place. Once you tire, retreat to a corner, slowly slide down it until you hit the floor of the elevator you are trapped in with a limited amount of oxygen, splay your legs straight out in front of you, and stare at everyone with an eery tranquility. If you are everyone else, pack yourselves like sardines in the opposite corner and direct your gaze at your shoes. Help is on the way.

An Open Letter To The Inanimate Objects In My Apartment That Just Sat There While I Was Heartbroken

2010-05-14T20:04:00.000-07:00

Dear Inanimate Objects In My Apartment,

As you all have been completely unaware of, I fell in love, and she didn’t love me back. I spent four years trying to make the right kind of face for her only to realize she had been looking over my shoulder the whole time. Leaving her felt like disowning a vision of myself. But I did leave. And I went straight home to my parents and got in their RV and traveled around the country passing thousands of cows and people until I realized the world is a big place and I might as well try again. So, here I am—a smidge gin-besotted—trying.

Did you even notice that, Recycle Bin? No, you didn’t, just like you didn’t notice or care that you’ve been so overflowing with empty beer bottles for the last month that I’ve started lining them up around you. This could’ve made your neighbor, Galvanized Metal Trash Can, feel cramped or at least inadequate if it was filled with anything more sensitive than yesterday’s congealed beans. But, it’s not just you two. All of my inanimate “friends” are guilty of doing the same thing: nothing.

Websters II New College Dictionary, did it ever occur to you that I kept desperately trying to redefine love? Bag Of Frozen Peas, I know you heard me when I got off the phone with her, and shouted “I want to hang up and not give a shit about you! To forget you like frozen peas in the back of my freezer!” Extra-Long Body Pillow, don’t tell me you didn’t feel a little used and abused. Same with you Porcelain Shower Tile, but you did a great impersonation of her, remaining cold and unmoved even when kissed passionately.

Ceramic Coffee Mug That Some Lesbians In Santa Fe Sold Us Cheaply Because They Thought She And I Were A Cute Couple, how can you even stand yourself when you know you stood for nothing at all? Pair Of Seven Jeans, Various T-shirts and Toothbrush, every morning I woke up at her place, I found you all stacked neatly on top of each other by the door. Did you honestly think she was just organized, or did it occur to you that you were all a part of the great pyramid of how much she didn’t want me getting comfortable in her life?

Allow me to give you all a brief lesson in the human condition. Humans are about 70% water, and the rest is guts, bone and minerals. But, because we are highly evolved animals, we tend to think of ourselves as fat, dull, empty and stupid. We are such a successful species that there are currently 6,792,256,639 of us on the planet—all of us frightened of being alone. We cannot be left on a shelf to sit, like you Wide Slot Toaster. When I leave you way up high on a shelf and forget about you and reach up and dust all around you but never touch you (not even once!!) you still have a purpose: making toast. When this happens to a human, that person forgets their purpose and goes around letting all the wrong people touch them.

I’m sorry, I’m getting off track. If it isn’t plainly obvious, I’m jealous. Inanimate Objects, you never have to worry that you weren’t given the proper parts to make it through life. You were. They’re factory installed, and if not, they’re sold separately, possibly with free shipping. And, one of the greatest things about you is when someone decides they no longer want you and sets you on a curb, you could still be someone else’s treasure. Best of all, when your machinery stops, it just stops. Have you ever seen an old man who can’t tell you what a shoe is but his legs carry him aimlessly around his neighborhood searching for his childhood farmhouse?

I just reread this, and I’m getting the idea that this is probably one of those letters people advise you to write for yourself and never show anyone. Oh well, it’s been therapeutic. Of course, I know reprimanding you guys for the intolerable pain in my chest is even more idiotic than stubbing my toe on your cords and screaming “fuckface!” at your little switch noses and your red blinking eyes. It’s just that these days I feel like a grandmother’s old leather suitcase, so sad and heavy and filled with things that are no longer useful in the world.

I’ll get better. I guess all you inanimate thingies can really do is be there for me. Be there or be square. Be there and be square. Just be there, because the world’s platter of hope and despair can be a bit much, especially when you don’t know which one you’re reaching for. And, trust me, sometimes it’s just comforting to clock out and stare at the platter.

Sincerely,

Stef Willen (I bought you)

P.S. Pinecones, my apologies for keeping you slightly off center on top of the TV for so long. Similar apologies to Cow Vertebrae, for making you into cool candlestick holders. Please understand, when people need a big break from love, they start doing all kinds of things for artistic reasons.

Sex On The Beach, A Haiku (except for one line)

2010-04-25T23:25:00.000-07:00

You're about to lose your

virginity to a guy

named Sven--then lights dance

across your legs, in a

flashlight way, accusatory.

There's sand in your face,

his dick retreats from

inside you, from Spring Break, all

the way to his room

where he'll brag about you,

surrounded by plastic stuff;

commemorative

baseball cups caked with

dried beer foam, and you're alone.

A gun's at your head.

Two Mexican cops

want money so you give it,

and you don't loose your

virginity--you

go straight to being a whore,

your sandal's slipping.

You don't hate men, you

just walk back like your world's suddenly

half off to one side.

A Man Who Is Not Old Or Young Watches TV

2010-01-21T14:41:00.000-08:00

After his wife has gone to bed, the man who is not old or young pours himself a shot of the good stuff and tracks a little bit of mud into the living room, but he’ll hear about that tomorrow morning. Before then, he decides to see if there's anything about dinosaurs on TV. Of course there’s something about dinosaurs on TV! And when some long-haired paleontologist is talking about how a giant asteroid crashed into the Yucatan 65 million years ago creating a globe-spanning debris cloud that killed off the dinosaurs but started life as we know it, the man who is not old or young can’t help but think about how all the cataclysmic events in his own life never really changed anything too much. Getting a degree, getting an advanced degree, getting married, having children, having children leave home, having an RV and being mostly retired; none of this ever started his “life” as he knew it.

Online Dating, A Brief Synopsis

2010-01-03T14:08:00.000-08:00

I sit on my couch

and wink at you.

The wink goes into space

then back to your computer,

balanced on your fat stomach,

which you've cropped out

of all your photos.

My Mom and I Have a Dinner Conversation, Dec 30th

2009-12-31T15:30:00.000-08:00

Background: The table has been cleared and my mom and I are drinking a nice syrah from somewhere in California. My dad is doing the dishes, and my brother is at the table listening to us. Somehow, we are talking about the chef Cat Cora. I am attracted to Cat Cora, so what follows is a bit confusing and has a very weak plot. Here, I'll start in the middle of the action:

Me: Mom! You really don't think I'm more beautiful than Cat Cora?!

My Mom: Cat Cora is beautiful. Haven't you seen her?

Me: Yes! I'm attracted to her!

My Mom: She is so naturally pretty, she is just beautiful.

Me: People tell me all the time I'm beautiful, Mom! They ask if I'm French or Swedish. Cat Cora is really cute, but she's Disneyland! I look royal! I'm almost like a greek goddess!!!

I think my brother agrees with me here, as he raises his eyebrows and nods.

My Mom: What do you want me to say? You have some royalty in you, but Cat Cora is really cute.

Me: So, you think she's cuter than me.

My Mom: Well...no. But, it's partly how she acts.

Christmas Stockings: An Objective Compare and Contrast

2009-12-26T11:34:00.000-08:00

Stocking Appearance and Contents at Age 10:

Overflowing, mutilated, misshapen due to heavy volume of presents of a variety of shapes and sizes. Contents: a large candy cane-shaped tube filled with flavored lip balms, a bag of Swedish Fish, two GameBoy games, a New Kids On The Block T-shirt, four neon slap bracelets, a bag of gummy colas, a six inch chocolate Santa, a Venus fly trap, a bouncy ball with glitter snowflakes, three packs of Bubble Yum, a crystal growing kit, a pencil with a Koosh ball on top, a tube of green lipstick that turns pink when you put it on, and a piece of paper with a hand-written clue to where the "big present" is hidden.

Stocking Appearance and Contents at Age 30:

Languid, enervated, misshapen due to a lack of inner volume of presents and the gravitational pull on several small solid gifts in the toe. Contents: two Mac eyeliner pencils, a pocket-sized digital recording device to help you remember things, 8 black uni-ball pens, and a twenty dollar bill stapled to a piece of computer paper with the typed message: "Since you refuse to go to Starbucks, consider this your coffee card to use at an independently owned store of your choice."

December 21st Observations

2009-12-21T11:49:00.000-08:00

My dad stepped on the dog's squeak toy today and said "Oh, jeez-US!"

He is now officially old.

The other day, he waved to me from down the street.

He was wearing a flannel shirt tucked into his jeans, and he was trying to tell me 'Over here

is where I'm parked. Come get in the car.'

I looked at him standing there under a tree, one hand in the air, and I got sad thinking about how

one day this stupid scenario will be impossible.

A Polite Thank You Letter For Twelve Days Of Christmas And A Pragmatic One

2009-12-15T00:00:00.000-08:00

My Darling,

What a lovely and interesting twelve days it has been! I had to take the partridge out of the pear tree because I thought he looked a little silly there, but that was before I had seven swans a'swimming in my bathtub. But, the pear tree is beautiful, and it should grow nicely where all those geese are a'laying and a'pooping! The UPS guy has tried three times to drop off two turtle doves and three french hens. Hopefully, I will be here next time as I don't think he will be able to just leave them on the porch. And those pipers piping and drummers drumming, I wasn't sure where to put them, but the drummers refused to share a room with the pipers, who they called "those queer faggots in tights," and left. Well, first they stole the five gold rings you gave me. I would've called the police, but one of the ten lords a'leaping landed on my cell phone and broke it. And did you mean to bring me nine ladies from Lansing? Lansing, Michigan? I'd check your receipt because these are all octogenarians who were on a tour of the Great Lakes when they were given $100 and told to get in a van. Anyway, their invoice says "nine ladies dancing" but they all assure me their fox-trotting days are over, and five of them even said it hurts just to stand. I don't mean to sound ungrateful, but please get them out of here. It breaks my heart to see them come downstairs everyday confused and dressed in layers and carrying cameras. I hope you understand. Your gifts were certainly extravagant, and I don't deserve anything as romantic as all this. Also, I'm not really sure I'm completely set up for eight maids a'milking.

Yours Truly,

SLW

Babe,

Thanks for the 23 birds. They flew off when the drummers arrived, but they'll probably be back because the milking maids brought all these cows, and I know birds like to sit on those. I've arranged for the 30 other folks you gave me as gifts to stay at the youth hostel until I can figure something else out. I had to sell the five gold rings to make this happen, but I'm sure you'll understand. The pear tree won't grow in this climate, so I tossed it, but kept the plastic potter it came in because it can be used to store tennis balls or turned upside down and made into a stool. Thanks again.

Love,

The Historical Romance

2009-12-05T19:40:00.000-08:00

You are so cool toward me,

I try and melt you,

but you are so cold,

it's like you were born

in a different century.

At least be Annie Oakley.

I'll be on my couch in jeans and Chuck Taylors

looking at a black and white photo of you.

I'll kiss my fingertip,

put it as close as I can to your lips,

drag it to your rifle and say "Bang!"

This way, I won't mind so much

when you stare back at me

all grainy and from a long time ago.

Stuff I Wrote On The Back Of Southwest Airlines' Drink Coupons

2009-11-27T10:43:00.000-08:00

Today sucked. I accidentally killed a lizard and I lost my prescription glasses. You don't know any of this because you have a girlfriend and it's not me.

Nothing makes you feel less vital to the world than flying above it at 33,000 feet and staring down at the intricate geometry of thousands of lives. It's the kind of thing that makes you order a scotch "neat." And when the stewardess pauses and says, "So... with or without ice?" it makes you just stare back and say "neat."

Great, if this plane crashes, there is no one here I want to hug while crying hysterically. Since when did trying to fall in love have so much in common with falling out of the sky?

Eating Alone, a Funeral

2009-10-30T22:26:00.000-07:00

What no one tells you in home ec or anyplace else, is that when you're an adult, you're going to have a lot of trouble making dinner for yourself and eating it. Tonight, I opened the fridge. Could’ve had a salad, could’ve made my own dressing, could’ve put soup in a pot, stirred it up and got it hot. But, I couldn’t find it in me to cut a cucumber, let alone peel it (in stripes, like Mom did). It’s unbelievably hard to eat by yourself. Sure, there’s the trick of turning on the TV, loading CDs in the 5 Disc CD changer, and catching a glimpse of yourself in the microwave and saying "Hey, you..." But nothing ever escapes the feeling of eating alone. It's the black hole of your kitchen, stretching you until you snap apart at your weakest point. Just getting out one fork is like being at a funeral—but at the beginning, when you still won’t admit you’ll end up crying, but can feel it coming on.

Los Angeles Observations, Oct 26th

2009-10-26T21:58:00.000-07:00

A 12 story apartment building

is getting a bath, and a homeless man

shuffles past without having showered in weeks.

Life is full of bad decisions.

Advanced Problems

2009-09-16T10:26:00.000-07:00

1) If A = B, and B = C, then A = C

I think of you,

and you don't think of me at all,

it's getting creepy on my end.

2) Sharon has exactly 6 quarters, 5 dimes, and 10 nickels in her pocket. She pulls out a coin at random and puts it aside since the coin is not a quarter. If she pulls out a second coin at random from her pocket, what is the probability that her childhood dreams are worth less than ten cents?

3) If Jim's penis is four inches long, and he leaves the train station at exactly 4:30 p.m., how many marbles does it take?

Every Time You Lick A Stamp, You Consume 1/10 Of A Calorie

2009-09-16T09:34:00.000-07:00

And this was her excuse

for never writing me.

And to think,

I drink beer

so I can write

poems

and put them into bottles

and throw them into the Pacific.

That's how many calories I'd consume

on the off chance

of reaching her.

Around Your 30th Birthday

2009-09-15T12:34:00.000-07:00

Around your 30th birthday

you will discover that your body

is not a temple.

It's a den

full of predators.

And you'll be trying

to make friends with them

the rest of your life.

Or, at least, trying to keep

them in a deep sleep

by sneaking quietly around

yourself

With Xanax and alcohol.

Maybe This Is Something

2009-09-13T06:57:00.000-07:00

A young girl is systematically tearing the fur off her plastic pony leaving it a cheap looking black plastic mold of a pony. She is at the DMV, seated a row in front of me and four chairs to the left. The horse was chestnut roan with a black mane and tail. Her father keeps getting up from his chair and pacing around and her mother is reading something. The girl only has the head left to do, but it looks like it's going to be hard because there are too many small contours to really get a good tear going.

Totals

2009-09-11T22:25:00.000-07:00

Whenever anyone I love dies

I stop and stare at the ground

and try to figure out a pattern.

How long I do this

depends on how much I love them.

Once, someone I really really loved died,

--That's it. I said my goodbyes. I said my hellos. That's it.--

and I was trying to figure out

how many total squares some triangles could make

when a woman wearing a tracksuit and big shiny hoop earrings

pushed her grocery cart into my my ass and said,

Honey, either move forward or back.

California Dreamin'

2009-09-07T21:57:00.000-07:00

We were holding hands walking right down the middle of Hollywood Boulevard.

The holding of our hands started to have it's own heart.

We looked down at where our wrists met, and there it was, beating, red and growing warm.

Then you stopped to tie your shoe, and I had to hold the heart all by myself.

It slid out of my hand like a fish, then turned into a kickball and started bouncing down the Boulevard.

I ran after it, but each bounce got higher and higher.

Pretty soon, I was at the rim of the Grand Canyon, and my father was being chased by a mountain lion.

I started to run after him, but a band of wild horses circled my mother.

She was sitting on a foldable camping chair, shaking.

The horses were kicking and biting and closing in on her.

I had now had a rope.

I tried to lasso them, but my teeth began falling out.

I kept lassoing them, and collected my bloody teeth with the other hand,which turned into a sieve.

Every time I yelled to her, I threw up bloody gravel,which used to be my teeth, and my sieve hand could only catch one or two pieces.

I worried that by the time I got to the dentist, I'd have nothing to give him.

One Definition Of Loneliness

2009-09-06T16:18:00.000-07:00

One definition of loneliness

is learning that your favorite author,

the one you really understand,

the one you’re sure would’ve really gotten you,

the one that took your stupid happiness and your boring depression

and made you underline it -- even put a star or exclamation point next to it --

killed himself because he decided it wasn’t worth it.

His death turned a great writer into just a dead body in an instant

but was recorded as approximately

between the middle of September and October

because no one called or came over.

He rotted in front of a window for weeks

until a police man found him.

Signs This Film Is Not Your Big Break

2009-07-15T21:12:00.000-07:00

You auditioned in your bikini at La Salsa.

You’re the star of an updated version of Little Red Riding Hood and have fallen asleep while on the phone with the director, who is running through the script, when you’re startled awake by him saying, “…and then the wolf’s cock piercing gets caught on your tongue ring.”

The director comes to your house and takes a loud smelly dump in your toilet.

Your first scene is a night shot on someone’s roof. When you question why there are no lights, the camera operator asks if you think the 7-11 down the street has flashlights.

Your character breakdown is: A bitch that dies.

You’re at the director’s apartment sitting in front of a stiff pour of Jack Daniels and discussing the script when he tells you how much you remind him of Jodie Foster. On your way to the bathroom, you discover his Jodie Foster “room.”

You’re running around Griffith Park barefoot wearing a bed sheet and dumping fake blood on a man in his boxers.

The director folds your headshot into fours and puts it into his back pocket.

I'm In Love With You

2009-07-11T17:05:00.000-07:00

I'm in love with you.

That's what I'm trying to say

when I say

your girlfriend has a horse face.

Lonely Woman Transcribes Things She Hears A Lonelier Woman Say To Her Pomeranians

2009-07-11T16:47:00.001-07:00

Get out here! You want to go for a walk? You want to or not?

Don’t you dare pee there! Bad doggie!!! You’re not…you’re not….you’re not paying attention to your mom!

Mama says you’ve been a bad boy. Come on, Honey. We’ve got stuff to do out here.

Where are my fucking papers. I can’t fucking find anything. I HATE MY LIFE!!!

C’mon Sadie, Isis, Elmo; let’s get this over with.

You wanna spank? Mamma’s gonna spank her little girl. No barksies!

Holy cow! I gotta open all those packages….see what I ordered. Usual thing -- I get all the presents, give ‘em away. Nobody gets me anything. Wow. C’mon, get in here, Sadie.

Sadie, quit! Someone’s going to end up with a big spanking. You know that, big boy? C’mon, let’s gosies.

Don’t stop at that corner cause I told you before, you’re going to get hurt. Fucking damn fool!

An Aviophobe’s Flight Manual

2009-07-05T18:02:00.000-07:00

Place right palm on fuselage when stepping off Jetway and into the cabin.

Make certain to get an aisle seat in the back of the plane and memorize how many rows you are in either direction from an emergency exit.

Look around and consider whether your fellow passengers seem like people who would die in a plane crash.

Admit that anyone can die in a plane crash.

Begin drawing circles on you chest with your index finger when the plane’s engines rev for takeoff.

Continue making circles on chest as plane speeds down runway and add silent chants -- either “I’m not done, I’m not done, I’m not done…” or “I’ve got more things to do, I’ve got more things to do, I’ve got more things to do…”

Stop chants and circles when plane clears runway and ask yourself real quick if you are okay with your own death. Try to give an instinctual response, not an intellectual one, and try not to judge that response.

When the wing slats retract, look out closest window and mutter “Whatever happens happens.”

Funerals For Dummies

2009-03-22T11:15:00.000-07:00

Do you have the ashes?

Yes...No! I grabbed...wait, which Whole Foods bag are they in?

Hold on, this is the wrong one.

Okay, here she is. Oh, here she is.......

A Stellars Jay lands on a bush, a car honks

Everyone goes to the bird feeder, so does the Stellars Jay

Is the camera on?

Yes, of course! He says irritated.

Well, it looks like you might have a branch in your way.

She says slowly.

I don't! He says, having been married to her for 40 years.

There is a branch.

She puts her hands inside and feels the small plastic bag.

Undoes the twist tie. Looks at the ground beneath the feeder.

Her mother had laid her in her arms, took her to the doctor everyday to see if it was polio and if it would go away,

braided her hair. Here was: birdseed, cracked mud,

and was that dog poop five feet away?

She loved birds. Remember how much she loved birds?

She puts her hands into... ground up shells?

She brings it up to her face.

He has the lens cap on.

Hold on a sec...Okay, whoops. He frowns at the camera.

What do you mean "Whoops"?! This is my Mother!! Oh Gawd.......

Well, hold on, Jeez. I'm sorry, damnit!

How do you turn this thing on?

She loved birds. Remember how much she loved birds?

What do you mean you "How do you turn it on!!!"

Okay, got it! Ready?

What!....On three?!

The bird has left the feeder. A feather fell off on it's way to the bush, but nothing else too bad happened.

One. Two. Three. They finally both say, mad and sad and a little loud.

Grey dust flies in the air. She remembers a picture of her

as a toddler in Germany in tall boots you had to lace with hook.

Dust.

She looks down at the dry ground below the feeder, where all

the birds she had loved so much all her life fed from,

and the dust seemed to have disappeared.

Maybe some was on her lip.

Then her husband, unwittingly starting the next stage of their lives,

said: Wait a sec, why is this flashing?

She, feeling abandoned (in so many ways!!) suggested calling the kids.

The Worst and Best Places and Times to Realize You Stepped in Dog Poop:

2009-02-16T14:02:00.000-08:00

Worst: Right as you bend down to unlace your boot and put it in the bin to go through airport security and are tightly flanked by people on all sides.

Best: When you wish you had shoes to match your dog poop shirt.

Fact:

2009-02-04T13:54:00.000-08:00

If you laid out a scale model of our Solar System so that it fit onto the Center Court at Wimbledon, with the Sun at one end and Pluto at the other, you need to find something else to do with yourself.

Fire Sale!

2009-02-01T12:18:00.000-08:00

Mortuary People, a Romance

2009-01-26T13:39:00.000-08:00

They come into your house in business suits at 2:14 am.

Of course you don't want to trust them,

or believe any of it.

They glance around real quick at the living

to see if any of them are good looking.

Then they explain what the options are

for the dead.

You look at the tile on the kitchen floor

and try to figure out how many total squares there are.

When they walk into the back room,

you go sit in a chair and pull the draw stings

of your hoodie real tight around your face

and stare at the "Field Guide to the Birds Of North America."

When you hear them unfolding something metal,

you start writing down everything you know.

You picture them taking off the dead's

shoes and putting them down carefully on the floor

like rose petals for a bath--it's all part

of their repertoire for romancing people to death.

You picture the toes of the shoes pointing toward

each other.

Then, you hear them pull a zipper,

and you concentrate real hard on those shoes.

The left one says Now what?

The right one says I guess we don't have to go on those hikes anymore.

The left one says I guess it just comes down to this.

In unison they say Just us shoes.

You remember every time you said you didn't have time

for a hike.

Missed Connections

2009-01-18T23:11:00.000-08:00

Where are you?

It's me, your stalker. I can't reach you

with my words or by throwing bark chips

at your window. Need to connect with you!

I've tried watching you in a different light,

but the bushes always seem to be in the way.

You looked so pretty doing your laundry

and dropping that DVD into the mailbox.

God, it's going to be hard to commit suicide

outside your house when I used to be able

to do it inside.

2009-01-10T12:45:00.000-08:00

Missed Connections

You

Always: Brown hair and eyes and lies,

told me you never wanted to be with me

that way. Actually, you said it looking

into my eyes at Lake Tahoe, after we

both agreed we understood why people

wanted to keep it blue. I guess we only

agreed on one thing. But, still, love for

you grew stupidly in me like a tree

planted in a temporary pot. I'm the dumb

housewife who didn't know you needed

space to get roots to get something at all.

You just looked so good in my door,

I didn't have that kind of time.

And when you came back around,

I've pictured our wedding. I've pictured

how you'll yell at me when we're old,

a new branch launched green forgiving

into my gut. Every new geometry of living

with you flowering with your slight touch:

Pulling me back from traffic.

Demonstrating on my shoulder

how she touches you in public.

You hate it. You brush an eyelash

off my cheek.

An Evolutionarily Correct Nativity Scene, by my father.

2009-01-09T10:11:00.001-08:00

Advanced Problems

2008-12-14T11:48:00.000-08:00

1) Sally is playing with toothpicks. Wait, why?

Airport Bar Poetry

2008-12-06T20:26:00.000-08:00

Didn't this button used to be on the backside?

She says. She is the star of the airport bar.

She is half Mexican and half Indian

and her hair is teased and pulled into a side pony tail

that goes down to her ass

and she is giving the soda gun

a very suspicious look.

Yes. Her younger, prettier co-worker says.

Patiently. Thankfully.

This is not her.

The star of the airport bar

has announced twice that she's back from her lunch break.

To everyone

and to no one at all.

She calls me Hon,

and I like it.

This was taken in a house that burned down. Oh well.

2008-12-05T21:01:00.000-08:00

Advanced Problems

2008-11-25T12:35:00.000-08:00

1. It burns when Sally pees. She pees for 30 seconds, yelling "ouch" every three seconds while Johnny is in another room counting marbles. If Sally starts peeing at the same time Johnny starts counting marbles, and Johnny counts aloud every odd-numbered marble, how many times does Sally scream in pain while Johnny says nothing?

2. Mr. Walters plants 42 tulip bulbs in a five foot by 7 foot rectangular garden every spring. Every day after the first day of spring, his dog, Paco, immediately digs up 30% of the flower bed. How many bulbs does Mr. Walters have to replant before he looks up and realizes he's alone?

3. Carol and Pam have been living together for exactly five years. Why don't they love each other in equal amounts?

Bullshit

2008-10-23T17:20:00.000-07:00

We accidentally evolved on this insignificant rock that circles a non-descript star, one of trillions in a vast universe. In the overall scheme of things, our entire existence is meaningless; and those pathetic, egotistical bastards who feel it is important "to make something of their lives" are completely full of shit.

--Scott Willen

Pacific Coast Highway

2008-10-21T08:30:00.000-07:00

Helpful Hints For Not Realizing You Are Completely (jesusfuckingchrist) Alone:

2008-08-10T12:57:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I have a very difficult time eating by myself. Let alone, cooking myself a meal. The sound utensils make when no one else is over for dinner, when I'm not in love at all, is awful. They sound like a dinosaur falling through space, screeching "After 165 million years on Earth, no one even knows my god damn name!!" or it's the sound a glass of water makes when a nurse gently sets it down on my grandma's bedside table, and my grandma can't swallow and her mouth has been open for days like a gash across her face. I can't decide which.

Anyway, if you know what I mean, may I suggest the following:

When eating by yourself: make something you can carry like a burrito or a sandwich, and then walk around eating it--maybe even go in the alley---and I swear you won't feel as alone because you will trick yourself into thinking you aren't actually eating dinner because all the perfunctory actions associated with dinner (sitting down at a table with place settings and loved ones) are removed.

Of course there are other things that are hard to do when you're completely (jesusfuckingchrist) alone. Here are my simple solutions:

When going to bed: put a pillow between your legs then bring it up to your mouth and french kiss it, then punch it repeatedly and put it back between your legs and try to get some rest.

When in the shower: wait until the tile gets steamed up, then take your finger and write "Hey, you..."

When drinking coffee: do a little dance.

When on the couch: extend your leg and point your toe seductively at a throw pillow and run your hand along your thigh and smile at the wall. Read Eudora Welty. Or Dorothy Parker.

When you realize you're jesusfuckingchrist alone: either call somebody and invite them to a BBQ and then try to find a BBQ that you can take them to, or turn your music up real loud and hope you'll have the chance to apologize.

Yes, this is for sale.

2008-08-02T02:00:00.000-07:00

Thanks to Randy Pausch, My Childhood Dreams Seem Very Reachable

2008-08-02T00:14:00.000-07:00

Randy Pausch's last lecture at Carnegie Mellon was inspiring. Life didn't pass him by because he tried, tried, tried and loved brick walls. Even though he died too young, he accomplished most of his childhood dreams. Most. That's insane. I've accomplished two. I know this because, after watching his lecture, I rooted around for my childhood dreams and found them in a file labeled, "Funny or Interesting." My childhood dreams were creatively called, "99 Things To Do Before I Die," and were written at age 13 on two stapled pages of college-ruled paper. The two I accomplished--in no particular order: 3) "Take a day off and eat everything that's been told bad for me," and 23) "Go to a big city and get lost." What's especially uninspiring, is that when I got lost in big cities or did nothing all day but swallow cookies, chips, and beer, I had no idea I was fulfilling childhood dreams.

So, could I be told I have terminal cancer right now and feel as though I gave this world a good spin? No. I still have to, for example, : 19) "Go scuba diving," 24) "Ski bum for a week or two," 71) "Cut and Dye my Hair" 14) "Find Something Amazing!!!", and 84) "Ride an Elephant, Ostrich, and Camel."

Magnitude 5.4 Earthquake Shakes Los Angeles

2008-07-29T22:39:00.000-07:00

The quake that rattled Los Angeles at 11:42 am was not fun. I came home to the picture you see on your left -- plus some spoons that I don't remember putting on the edge of the sink. I'm still waiting out the 24-hour period when the 5 % chance that this quake was just a precursor to the Big One becomes a 1 % chance. I was working during the quake, and at first, I felt a slight rumble. That was followed by what can best be described as a gentle, erratic rocking. It was as if the house I was in was trying to stand up in its first pair of roller skates. Actually, maybe that's kinda cute. Maybe I'm still waiting for that near-universal instinct to call loved ones to kick in.

Sorry, Haiku

2008-03-23T15:40:00.000-07:00

Melissa Etheridge's Failed Haiku

I wanna come all

over your window--I'll be

home soon as I'm done.

Girl I Have a Crush On

Danced in front of me,

hit my knee and said "Sorry"

like she missed the trash.

The United States Vs. The American Indian

"It doesn't matter

how long you've been parking here,

we have to tow you.

We're putting up signs

tomorrow, and your car will be

in the museum."

If A=B, and B=C, Then A=C

I think of you, and

you don't think of me at all.

It's getting creepy.

Los Angeles International Airport Christmas Tally

1 man in snowflake

sweater, 2 women wearing

Rudolph pins. Only

1 woman wearing

antlers. Does she take them off

when in the bathroom?