OH Kylie,
February 22, 2009 at 4:53 pm | In Poems | Leave a CommentTags: Musings, Poems
A crush
maybe
perhaps
I’ve fought it
I’ve denied it
I’ve not believed it’s possible
after all
I like
Skinny Puppy
Bauhaus
Radiohead
Spoon
Ladytron
Le Tigre
Sleater Kinney
and I appreciate the anti establishment
I am sympathetic to the anti man lyrics.
And then
And then
there is Kylie Minogue
I can’t get her outta my head….
Oh..
There’s a little mini ecstasy right there.
Just thinking about her dancing
silver outfit
writhing on the screen….
Oh..
There is something about her… the way she moves,
her voice
her beat
her rhythm and tone
it sends me to a happy place.
Oh..
—————
ps. I’ve decided it’s okay to admit this because my wife is rather enamored with Jason Stathom.
little brittle waves
February 21, 2009 at 7:51 am | In Poems | Leave a CommentTags: Musings, Poems
a small storm offshore
bringing waves little
they break like brittle
whipped
egg whites
atop an American pie.
A large storm offshore
bringing waves monumental
they break like glaciers
gauging
valleys
through Mt. Rushmore.
————————
Things my dad taught me about finance.
He taught me about the little waves.
“Save double what you plan on spending”
was his basic motto. “If you want to buy a bike for $120, save $240″
I didn’t actually do that, but when I did make my first big purchase, a stereo from the Bon Marche for about $800 in the 7th grade, I did have my own paper route. I was able to put $200 down and the $40 a month payments were not a problem. I knew the payments would be easy.
Bigger waves. I thought I just didn’t understand. When I inherited a nice sum of money from my grandmother, I looked into buying a house or real estate. I did the simple math and realized that around here… in California, and regardless of what my friends and others say, I just wouldn’t be able to make the payments. So i didn’t go there. I thought I didn’t get it. I sure couldn’t figure out how folks were buying property. How could they afford it? The math just didn’t make sense.
And then there is a monumental wave and I was thinking my dad was really right. Little waves do translate.
BUT now I see that maybe I really didn’t understand. I still can’t afford a house. Folks that couldn’t afford a house – it looks like they will get to keep theirs. It looks like folks like me will actually be paying for their houses – one way or another. And still I don’t understand where all this money is coming from. Who is going to have to make the payments in the future? If I’m helping to make all these other payments will I ever get a house?
And it seems to me that every little wave, every house that shouldn’t have been purchased, is all coming together into one big wave and the government thinks it can take care of the problem. Put up some magically breakwater or something. Basic math? Basic math says no. Money doesn’t magically appear. No matter what you do. I hope I really don’t understand. But it looks to me like we’re setting ourselves up to have a glacier tear right through Mt. Rushmore.
Me? I’m thinking long view. It will suck for a while, but ride it out. Don’t make the wave bigger with promises of making tomorrow better. I’d rather have tomorrow’s tomorrow be better.
in progress
February 20, 2009 at 12:32 pm | In Poems | Leave a CommentTags: Poems
I was lost adrift
at sea
seagulls screaming above
their shit on my back
my head
I don’t claim to understand
how I hit this shore
I didn’t see it in the distance
nor was I paddling with it in mind
I was paddling
I knew something was out there
a positive force to fight
my drift and clean
the shit from my back.
and one morning … or evening
I cannot remember
the boat struck beach
soft smooth sand without a pebble
purity
it surrounded a pale blue lagoon
eden
No NO NO — I’m addicted to lurking
February 10, 2009 at 8:50 am | In Poems | Leave a CommentTags: Musings
oh facebook and twitter… they’re evil. They are invented / created to encourage folks to lurk… to voyeur… to spy…
and it’s fun.
All those compromising photos
all those people I haven’t seen in years. They’re all out there. Waiting. Waiting to be spied upon.
And I spy. And I read. and I follow links and threads to places I’ve not been before. And I feel sneaky. Like I’ve found a door unlocked to the mansion next door. Just open it. Just creep on in.
Look around. See what there is to see. First the kitchen. the living room… and then… oh my. the bedroom. What little items can I spy in there… what kind of items am I anxious to… and yet afraid to…. find.
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