One Definition Of Loneliness

 

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

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

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

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

 

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

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:

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:

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!

Mortuary People, a Romance

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

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.

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.

Advanced Problems

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

Airport Bar Poetry

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.

Advanced Problems

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

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

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

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.