These are the thoughts of a Texas transplant in West Michigan who makes his living as a newspaper reporter by evening, and a struggling novelist by day.

Thursday, September 04, 2008

nearly gone

there are a few more weeks fo summer and then it's gone. done for year. however, for all intent and purposes, summer's last hurrah was this past weekend.

it was a scorcher. it was hot and humid. it made no difference where you stood or sat, it was hot. it beeng hot for the past few weeks. it seems to be a pattern up here. late august can be tough.

i've recalled previous labor days and they've been pretty hot. last year i worked labor day and had to get up for the truck parade. i was barely alive and i stood only because of the humidity. at noon i covered the softball game between the firefighters and police officers. it was damned hot.

but i can't complain too much. most of the summer was cool, i thought. we made it most of the way through without bad days. i am unsure but we had a handful of days where we went above 90 degrees. not bad.

yes i know this blog is lame. i just felt like writing something, something non-poem. this is the shit i produce on a non-poem blog? drat it!

on brighter news, i watched my first episode (don't be scared look into the light), of the smurfs in decades. i still found them entertaining after all of these years. i dig the way they use the word "smurf" for everything. i might start using it instead of a cuss word. how about, "get the smurf out of my face." "smurf off!" "you mothersmurf." "go smurf yourself!" "you smurfhead!" "you smurfhole." i know you get the picture. stop rolling your eyes (i know you did that).

i tried finding bugs bunny but there's no showings of that on cable. i saw a tom and jerry episode that i remember seeing 25 years ago i was disappointed by the politically correct voice they dubbed for tom's owner. i know it was what it was, but let it be as the beatles once sang.

and so this is it. summer's done. this blog entry sucks. it all sucks. sucks, sucks.
where's a damn poem when you need one.
come to think of it, the last poem was too freaking weird for my taste.

Monday, September 01, 2008


no kids for heather, ever,
you bemoan -- or glee,
wrap the rubber tight,
i'm not in for a fight

what's that?
shave what? a dog?
-- oh yes, smooth, down to the skin.
-- no, fun. and necessary.

grumble, mumble,
jack and me,
we stand together,
numbed by the glass,
should i take the glass?

no i'm cool, im cool.

after hours with hot hands,
i played all the ladies,
and the gents, too,
for for all the clinkage.

emit a laugh,
john, john,
i didn't mean to imitate.

the studs came out tonight,
all and one lady, we did play,
and play she did.

and lame was i,
for hours after,
drag and drag,
the slaughter song.

and as the white flows down and back again,
you hesitate, like always,
and get nowhere,
everyone hates me,
reddened tears and cheeks to boot,
self conscious bore.

swing this way, swing this way,
lock in place,
unhinged no more.