My own Poetry, Fiction, Non-Fiction, and occasional commentary on all of the above.
This just in: Guy: I will accept "Change of Direction" for the next issue of Gnome (http://gnome.asteriusonline.com ) best for the new year, JCE Since I submitted this back in November, I'll count this as partial credit towards my 2008 goal of having three poems published (or accepted) by the end of December! Yay me!
Crazy White Devil
for Robert Craig Knievel, Jr. (1938-2007)
Long before Christopher Reeve
and R. Kelly, we believed
a man could fly if
he was daring enough,
and crazy enough,
to risk the inevitable
crash landing.
“America’s Legendary Daredevil”,
Evel Knievel was both,
a brazen boiler room broker
arguably a bit more crazy
than daring, his biggest successes
failures, crash landings his specialty,
his refusal to die his legacy,
but “crazy white devil” doesn’t quite
have the same ring to it.
Elvis, was a hero to most,
and died a bloated object lesson
to karma’s bitchiness, an asterisk
permanently attached to his pelvis,
but Evel always knew better,
understood that he was “good
at riding a motorcycle… Not
a hero.”
[x-posted from PopCultureShock] What happens when the "maybe we just need a little space" trial separation makes you realize you're actually happier apart and have no interest in getting back together? Well, if you're me and writing about and reviewing comics on a semi-regular basis is what you needed a break from, you stall one more month hoping for the good feelings to return before finally acknowledging the truth and writing the requisite farewell post for the 3-5 people who might still care. In other words, it's officially "adios" for good this time! To the comics internet, at least. I'm…
ON THE 89th DAY, I QUIT I do not believe in fate or destiny or God's will or man's good intentions. Give me the capricious gods instead, Dow Jones, Starbucks, Dick Cheney so I at least know that where I stand on this stacked deck is arbitrary. I believe I am destined for greatness, if only I could get out of my own way and stop being so damn scared of it. "If a man is considered guilty 4 what goes on in his mind Then gimme the electric chair 4 all my future crimes-oh!" My kiss is a double-edged…
Party Like A Rock Star He heard the music most of us tune out without realizing, marched to a beat mere mortals couldn’t comprehend. A rock star, literally, Peter of the Earth conducted life-giving electricity through those he loved and strangers alike, in random bars and nightclubs and open mics and windswept beaches in the dead of winter. To know him was to question your own commitments, to understand life was meant to be lived, treated like an empty dance floor with a DJ who takes requests. To be uninhibited unrestrained unleashed. Those who can, dance. Those who can’t, write…
Old New York Love Story I like the vibe in this place The bartender, my mother-in-law if she were a bartender, dresses for the crowd in a shiny black bustier and tight black polyester capris long copper-dyed hair pulled back into a poofy ponytail she flirts like Pollock attacking a canvas, seemingly random until the end of the night when she counts her tips her artistic genius revealed. She's an undegreed psychiatrist dispensing advice and self-medication ethical enough to ensure no one overdoses, savvy enough to ensure their return. She sings along to Shakira hips shimmying to 50 Cent, her…
The café is small and non-descript, on the first floor of a faux brownstone in the faceless part of Greenwich Village. A railroad space with access to the backyard, also small, where an old greenhouse roof with most of the roof panels missing, offers a quiet refuge from the outside world. The cuisine is South Asian, as is the staff, and the portions are generous. He meets prospective clients here because it's both convenient and remote, and the laid-back atmosphere is disarming. Considering his line of work, that last point is important. Almost every first meeting starts the same, and…