Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Friday, October 2, 2009
Huh
I thought this was up here...
Canadian Thanksgiving
Its dirty outside and this bed clings like wet grass clippings. The floor is covered in trash and a hand me down ash tray lays face down under the table. The clock is flashing near the window. There's two fingers left in the bottle and we fucked in the alley under Miami. I can't get her out of my head. It was brief. She was screaming and fully clothed, her back pressed against an old brick wall and my teeth sunk deep in her neck. No one came. Neither of us. Her new one, bearing my strange resemblance, was waiting at the bottom of the bar's crooked steps and she calmly readjusted her dress. I gave her five minutes, maybe three, then sauntered upstairs smelling like pussy. My father's leather jacket fit like a glove. I held back a grin and ordered myself a new drink. Here I am.
Canadian Thanksgiving
Its dirty outside and this bed clings like wet grass clippings. The floor is covered in trash and a hand me down ash tray lays face down under the table. The clock is flashing near the window. There's two fingers left in the bottle and we fucked in the alley under Miami. I can't get her out of my head. It was brief. She was screaming and fully clothed, her back pressed against an old brick wall and my teeth sunk deep in her neck. No one came. Neither of us. Her new one, bearing my strange resemblance, was waiting at the bottom of the bar's crooked steps and she calmly readjusted her dress. I gave her five minutes, maybe three, then sauntered upstairs smelling like pussy. My father's leather jacket fit like a glove. I held back a grin and ordered myself a new drink. Here I am.
Saturday, June 27, 2009
Morning
Howdy
What an interesting night. Week, actually, I suppose. In all honesty, there are only a few noteworthy...'things' worth mentioning. Monday was my first day of work back on the good ol painting crew, and in general manual labor remains one of the possibilities for future employment, as there is something grand in the fact that the seasoned veterans look forward to weekend activities like fishing and looking at pretty young girls passing on the street. Oh, that being said, one overwhelming similarity between all union workers is their emphatic distaste for the institution of marriage--yet, they all seem to love their wives secretly. Anyway, I found particular joy working on the second floor of an outrageously expensive house listening to http://www.box.net/shared/zkzobymz8a <- this, along with the rest of this gem of a live album.
But yeah, I started writing because I'm in an interesting place tonight, having just returned from the tail end of an evening spent in Wicker Park, a part of Chicago I love for boutiques but hate for the scummy kind of folk who lurk the bars there. I had an amazing dance session with my friend's girlfriend to some very hilarious and awesome Chicago old-school house music, but from there lost my energy due to smug people. Maybe I just miss my posse of fem-stars, who refuse to let nights turn sour. In any case, after getting dropped off at the El by my friends, I decided on a solo adventure, which resulted in a bunch of disappointing peeks into bars. Just when I was about to admit defeat, I jumped into a hackey sack circle and made a new friend, 50 year old professional hackey sacker Matthew who, despite a seemingly homeless appearance, had a cell phone and a few good stories to tell. He insisted on a maximum distance of 3 inches between our noses while speaking, and I eventually decided that in limited doses he must be a pretty bitching guy to be around. I eventually broke away from our somewhat literal tete-a-tete and got back on to my reliable silver beauty, the only form of transportation for a bum like me, the El. 45 minutes of travel, a great deal of which was spent waiting, but overall such an excellent way to move through the city. Oh, I forgot to mention, a girl flashed her butt right before descending the stairs to the tunnel connecting the red line station to the blue line station at Jackson, and it was pretty hilarious seeing as she was intoxicated and it was pretty much a "fuck you" to the people too busy being bored to enjoy the night. I'm home, its 5 am, I am very far from being able to sleep, and tomorrow will most likely be fun.
If anyone reads this, thank you. And, check out the song, because it's awesome.
What an interesting night. Week, actually, I suppose. In all honesty, there are only a few noteworthy...'things' worth mentioning. Monday was my first day of work back on the good ol painting crew, and in general manual labor remains one of the possibilities for future employment, as there is something grand in the fact that the seasoned veterans look forward to weekend activities like fishing and looking at pretty young girls passing on the street. Oh, that being said, one overwhelming similarity between all union workers is their emphatic distaste for the institution of marriage--yet, they all seem to love their wives secretly. Anyway, I found particular joy working on the second floor of an outrageously expensive house listening to http://www.box.net/shared/zkzobymz8a <- this, along with the rest of this gem of a live album.
But yeah, I started writing because I'm in an interesting place tonight, having just returned from the tail end of an evening spent in Wicker Park, a part of Chicago I love for boutiques but hate for the scummy kind of folk who lurk the bars there. I had an amazing dance session with my friend's girlfriend to some very hilarious and awesome Chicago old-school house music, but from there lost my energy due to smug people. Maybe I just miss my posse of fem-stars, who refuse to let nights turn sour. In any case, after getting dropped off at the El by my friends, I decided on a solo adventure, which resulted in a bunch of disappointing peeks into bars. Just when I was about to admit defeat, I jumped into a hackey sack circle and made a new friend, 50 year old professional hackey sacker Matthew who, despite a seemingly homeless appearance, had a cell phone and a few good stories to tell. He insisted on a maximum distance of 3 inches between our noses while speaking, and I eventually decided that in limited doses he must be a pretty bitching guy to be around. I eventually broke away from our somewhat literal tete-a-tete and got back on to my reliable silver beauty, the only form of transportation for a bum like me, the El. 45 minutes of travel, a great deal of which was spent waiting, but overall such an excellent way to move through the city. Oh, I forgot to mention, a girl flashed her butt right before descending the stairs to the tunnel connecting the red line station to the blue line station at Jackson, and it was pretty hilarious seeing as she was intoxicated and it was pretty much a "fuck you" to the people too busy being bored to enjoy the night. I'm home, its 5 am, I am very far from being able to sleep, and tomorrow will most likely be fun.
If anyone reads this, thank you. And, check out the song, because it's awesome.
Monday, June 22, 2009
The above photo...
Trevin and Evan, collectively known as Trevan, mid battle. These two wonderful young men are the best friends a guy could have.
For My Lovely, Lovely Hilary
My darling friend Hilary actually likes something I wrote, something which I sent her out of pure desperation. Skimming my emails I came across a poem that she'd written, and I felt a strange compulsion, some sort of weird competitive urge to rebut her brilliance. So, here it is, perhaps she will let me post hers? I have yet to ask...
...Whoops! I just realized that, even if she doesn't want it posted, I'm going to post it, because it is lovely. Sorry Hil.
Le Mien
The city rooftops pass
along the el train tracks
like afterthoughts,
Denote wealth or
not and sometimes a
man or seagull works
just inches from the passing cars.
The city is still expanding
in the summertime heat
and after
three straight days of rain
the bricks are dry.
Clumsy black fire escapes
cling somehow to exteriors
and the porches will all
someday fall to bits.
Its lovely here in June.
(Note: Chicago truly is lovely in June, despite the oppressive humidity which I can only relate to what I imagine walking through a sponge cake, while baking, is like.)
Ta ta for now!
...Whoops! I just realized that, even if she doesn't want it posted, I'm going to post it, because it is lovely. Sorry Hil.
Ode to the Plaid Womb
I'm not getting up. Try to be supportive.
I will waft up like Doris Day
When I'm so inclined.
Well so what,
I lay down too flat
Too flat too fat
Heavy like cream.
Give me chocolate,
Full mouth sickness,
Body of old milk.
Pour Poor-between-the-sheets.
Great milk lake
Flowing under blankets
Even the cats won't kiss.
Sink down in oil pits
Curdle up.
Try to be supportive.
I will waft up like Doris Day
When I'm so inclined.
Le Mien
The city rooftops pass
along the el train tracks
like afterthoughts,
Denote wealth or
not and sometimes a
man or seagull works
just inches from the passing cars.
The city is still expanding
in the summertime heat
and after
three straight days of rain
the bricks are dry.
Clumsy black fire escapes
cling somehow to exteriors
and the porches will all
someday fall to bits.
Its lovely here in June.
(Note: Chicago truly is lovely in June, despite the oppressive humidity which I can only relate to what I imagine walking through a sponge cake, while baking, is like.)
Ta ta for now!
Friday, June 5, 2009
New tattoos...
So, I have become set on a new idea that I have for tattoos to go on my triceps. On the back of my right arm, an architectural illustration of the Eiffel Tower. On the back of my left arm, an architectural illustration of the Chicago Water Tower. So far, I have this. It seems that no one has done a black and white simple sketch of the Water Tower from the right angle, it's pissing me off, so hence my blog. But, check out the Eiffel Tower sketch. Hurrumph.
Monday, June 1, 2009
Shoes
I have never been a shoe guy, but I recently purchased two pairs of high tops for the summer, and I must say I am quite jazzed.
The ones on the bottom arrived in Chicago with a pack of Swedish Fish and free sunglasses! Thank you Zuriick for being the shit.
The ones on the bottom arrived in Chicago with a pack of Swedish Fish and free sunglasses! Thank you Zuriick for being the shit.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
