"I’ll make you feel like glitter inside." They say.
They have smart, damaged eyes, that water like girls in childhood,
over at the sequined bar with a metal band called Blind Locus,
from a town called Panther Lake.
"Have I met you before?" I ask them. I have stumbled around,
my arms out from the vales of assorted emotional states:
madness, sadness, rage, delirium, ecstasy, and sheer boredom.
"We are just toys come back to life" One shouts over the DJ hymn.
"Everything comes back to you three times" Another one said
at Liar’s club or maybe it was Dreamerz or Lounge Ax
or the Cults of Eva in the birth of time.
"Don’t you remember us?" They ask.
"How could I forget" and a beer appears in my hand.
Flying Palace Up In The Sky
Go to work because you’re supposed to
and while you’re there have them demand vodka
and soda in shrill shriek while they tell you about
marriage with blood shot eyes and drool in the corners
of the door stuffed with managers who want to move
in a new direction because the percentage is down,
have to get it up while a lawyer pukes in his hand.
Halloween on Normal Avenue
“Well, first things first, buddy. It’s Halloween so you positively must have a costume. It would be bad form if you didn’t.” Shane said.
Billy rubbed his chin, musing on how he agreed but didn’t even have the slightest idea where he could get one. Especially since Billy only had twenty two bucks he had earned doing History home work for Tony Tran and that wasn’t going to buy much of a costume.
Shane put his arm around Billy’s shoulder and walked him over to Billy’s own closet, “That’s why I took the liberty of dusting off an old favorite of mine that I freed from an establishment down the street. I’ve never gotten around to wearing it, but I tell you, it’s so fucking choice. Suzy’s is certainly going to want you to stick your finger into her mouth and then her butt and then back in her mouth at the sight of you all studly in this thing.”
Shane gave the canary-in-the-mouth smile and then opened the closet: there was a pair of shiny black uniform shoes, black pants, a black short sleeve button up shirt, and… “A priest? You think it’s cool to dress up like a priest? So that people can associate me with which super cool concept, child molestation or abstinence?”
Shane sighed disgustedly and then pulled the whole outfit out on the hanger and held it up to Billy’s chest to see that it would fit. “It’s called irony, you clod. It’s so not cool to be a priest that it’s amazingly cool, especially if you’re running around raising hell.” Shane raised his eyebrow and then pulled four pills out of his breast pocket and handed two of them over to Billy. “Thanks for getting us all of us kids addicted to sweet double doses of amphetamines, doctors.”
I Wrote a Novel, You Should Buy It
Hey tumblr humans! I really love our strange picture based relationship in which I know a ton about you without ever actually speaking to you. It’s fantastic. However now I have to try and con you for a very good reason: my book! Maybe you like my writing, maybe you like books about funny, epic, weird things, or maybe, just maybe you have too much money because you are super rich. Whatever the reason come pre-order yourself a super sweet, limited edition, holographically embossed (not true…yet) copy of my novel: Normal Avenue.
If you hate it you can punch me in the face but you won’t.
It’s about to get weird. Real weird.
I felt you like ocean waves
sucking and smashing and soft as kissing salt
water horses that run through me and crush me
into a pile of crying flesh in a library out of nowhere.
I heard your voice and it echoed,
it still does, it sounds like sirens, it sounds like songs,
it will make you take your clothes off and moan
just like alcohol in the summer.
I drew a picture of you and it came out frantic, smudged, dirty
in the handwriting of a made man.
I thought you looked pretty good.