Day: April 1, 2018

Me

Thousands of people buy into astrology, looking for answers to life’s most important questions: will I find my soulmate? what are the winning lottery numbers? am I going through my Saturn retrograde? But like most things in life, it’s all a sham. Just like professional wrestling. If people really found out, how would they react? Hopefully, like Jason did when he discovered his favorite professional sport was scripted, right down to the backstage interviews…

“So it’s fake. It’s still nice to look at.”

Now that I think about it, I’m not even sure we were talking about professional wrestling…

Two-Fourteen

The van driver does not want to be alone, like the old man he read about in a really long poem. That’s why he’s dressed in a decent pair of slacks, a collared shirt, and some nice shoes. That’s why his compact car is temporarily parked in a no-parking zone, blinkers flashing. That’s why he’s standing in front of the door of an apartment he’s never been to until now, carrying some flowers and a box of fat-free chocolates behind his back.

Brakeup

He hears the speech of others. How they turn ideas into words into sentences into conversations. How idle chatter becomes something even if it is really nothing at all. Talk about moving pictures on a screen becomes a precious thing when people try to fill the space between them.

Purple Unicorns Mate After Midnight

Vince stood at the front of the class and began reading. “They lied. Icarus was not about the vanity of mankind. It was about love.”

Amber sat in the back of the class. Wow, she thought. Who’s that?

Vince continued to read more from his essay. Amber leaned forward in her chair, listening intently. He’s good.

“Like a moth is attracted to a flame, Icarus was attracted to the sun,” read Vince. “We are Icarus, we who have fallen for the sun, or the object of our desire.”

Amber sighed. He’s really good.

“Like moths, like Icarus, we wish to fly close to that which we desire,” continued Vince. “That which we love.”

The bell rang, announcing the end of class.

 

Buy the book at Amazon.

When I got home today
You gave me a picture
Of you me and Mommy
That you drew in class–

And on the fridge it goes
With your other artwork
Mister Picasso

I think we need
A bigger fridge

I remember what you told me then
But I still foolishly think you’ll tell me soon
That you changed your mind
One of these days
Maybe around April Fools’ Day
Maybe around your birthday
Maybe around mine
How does my heart
Find space for hope when
It’s blindly given itself to you?
I have no reasons why
You said what you said
And I guess I’m too needy
To believe the story’s come to an end
Even though we’re still practically strangers
From since we first met
And that was years ago
The paradoxes abound that can easily turn around
My feelings towards you
For we’ve shared nothing more than social media profiles
And exchanged only greetings in person
So I have no proof of reciprocal interest not even curiosity
You remain aloof from me
And still the daydreamed scenarios
Pop in and out of my awareness
Shiny distractions to a listless soul
And still many an evening
I spend trying to upend my solitude
With words meant to rhyme
Against the platitudes I’ve read
About letting go and all that
To stay silent on this seems so unfair
I’ve been quiet all my life
Could I just revel in
Another fire that dimly lights
Even if the effort would be wasted?
But I’m told I can do no more
And I shouldn’t move forward
While always looking over my shoulder
Afraid I’ll leave you behind
Because maybe you’re not even there anymore–
One of these days
Maybe around April Fools’ Day
Maybe around your birthday
Maybe around mine
I’ll be the one who’s changed his mind
And stopped being foolish for you

How come
I have never
Heard you
Do this?