Mister Jim on the Road

Hey everyone. . .it has been a long time since I've updated. Life has changed in ways I'd rather not say, so let's talk poetry readings, yes?

On Tour:

October 30: Bowery Poetry Club (3 PM)

Jim Warner will be a part of the Poets for Peace Anti-War Reading. The event
starts at noon. Other readers include Colum McCann, Rashidah Ismaili, Onaje Allan
Gumbs, and Amiri Baraka.

November 5: Mudpuddle Cafe: New Paltz, NY (7PM)

Release party for the Sherman Asher edition of IN THE ARMS OF WORDS. . . Jim will be reading with Amy Ouzoonian, Tara L. Masih, and MaryJo Martin

November 19: Tribes Gallery: 285 E. 3rd St, NYC (7PM)

Jim Warner will have the honor of sharing the stage with Edwin Torres and Marty McConnel.


For more info: warnerj@wilkes.edu

Today's Soundtrack: my morning jacket- z; johnny cash- american recordings iv; replacements- don't tell a soul; tom waits- closing time; thelonius monk's greatest hits

Help Now.

lp's

i'm addicted to vinyl. . .bought 30 bucks worth of wax yesterday @ double decker in allentown. . . still got the blood lust. . .this is a problem. . .

another short, sweet reading @ barnes and noble friday. what do you expect: it's summer.

in lackawaxen tomorrow? yeah, i have no idea where it's at either. . .

more later

today's soundtrack:
prince-purple rain; shellac-at action park; otis redding-live in eurpoe; paul mccartney-s/t; jawbox 24 hour revenge therapy

as featured on ZED!!!

So ZED is the artist community sponsored by CBC (Canadian Broadcast Channel for all us Yankees) and today I got this email:

We want to let you (+ your friends and enemies) know that your work is being
featured right now on the ZeD website: http://zed.cbc.ca/go?c=contentIndexPage.
Hooray!

Thanks for your contribution. We look forward to seeing more in the future.

Thanks,
Jennifer


Jennifer Aikman
ZeD Website Editor
http://j-diddy.zed.cbc.ca/
-------------------------------------------
So, I go the page, and there I am, featured and what not!!! Pretty cool. Check it out before someone figures out I'm not cool. . .

Go Canada!!!!

Today's soundtrack:

white zombie: la sexorcisto, devil music vol.1; bjm: give it back; snow patrol: final straw; stone roses: the complete; iggy pop: the idiot; archers of loaf: icky mettle; pulp: different class; mc5: back in the usa

manuscript radio

A new venture is coming. . .check it out here!

I am very excited to be doing a radio show again! It will be a weekly radio show focusing on the arts and an eclectic mix of music as well. . .

more later

today's soundtrack

www.littlestevensundergroundgarage.com

on tour. . .

Friday in Elk Lake: amazing cooked carcasses w/friends. . .layed on a dock unil the sky began to ebb, pulling clouds to the horzion of the tide. . .matched my breath to the laping of waves. . .

Went to a flea market: i now have access to a record player. . .behold the new addiction!

Monday in Binghamton. . .working as a techie. . .eating more Greek seasoned flesh at a diner. . .listening to jeff buckley. . .talking about radio theatre. . .81 traffic. . . overwhelmed by burning oil and orange cones. . . thought about drowning. . . everything I've dreamt about has been mixing in various paints. . .

Next week. . .NYC? Tokyo? London? The Mall??

am soundtrack:

ryan adams: cold roses; velvet underground: loaded; bjm: give it back; dj shaddow: endtroducing

spokenlist: july 05

The following made July not so humid. . .

1. BJM
2. Harlem Book Fair
3. MA/CW
4. Otis Redding's cover "Higher and Higher"
5. smoked tofu
6. riblets!!!
7. Chapelle Show Season 2
8. Michael Jackson: "Don't Stop 'til You Get Enough"
9. Lucero-nobody's darlings
10. Dreamweaver MX
11. Social Distortion-sex, love, and rock'n' roll
12. Salvation Army
13. air conditioning
14. Ben and Jerry's Chubby Hubby
15. Norman's Sound and Vision (St. Mark's Place)
16. Elvie's Turo-Turo
17. Hotel 17
18. H.L. Hix "As Easy As Lying (essays on Poetry"
19. William Carlos Willimas "Doctor Stories"
20. New Balance 490's
21. www.theclassicsoulnetwork.com


today's soundtrack: bjm-strung out in heaven; otis redding-rememeber me; rolling stones-let it bleed; teenage fanclub-a catholic education

a slow news day?

Sometimes, you just got to wonder what the hell it going on?

today's soundtrack
Brian Jonestown Massacre and the Dirtbombs!

the heat

The town has a weird energy at night and I think it's the heat. After a long, hot summer with 90 degree days, the temperature is starting to slowly boil humanity from the streets around my apartment. Last night an elderly lady got stabbed 10 times in her apartment. . .there has been a rash of violence quietly growing around here. My buddy who works at Gallery of Sound downtown says people are shootin' him looks--and this is a guy who has cred since he's slinging discs everyday. There is a tension in the air and even my level headed friends are feeling the heat. . .frustration is high, drama is building. . .not to make it sound like a Spike Lee joint, but damn welcome to the summer in the low-cash district of the WB.

today's soundtrack
bjm-thank god for mental illness; dirtbombs-singles comp.; mos def-black on both sides; otis redding-tell the truth; whiskeytown-faithless street; marvin gaye-what's going on?; van morrison-astral weeks; rolling stones-let it bleed; libertines-up the bracket

cirlce the missing wagons

somedays really confuse me. . .that's all i got tonight.

today's soundtrack: bjm and tom waits; neil young-after the goldrush

hotel 17, Elvie's turo-turo , and BJM

So, I stayed @ Hotel 17 (225 E. 17th St.) this weekend to catch Brian Jonestown Massacre, the Quarter After (boring), and Hopewell (amazing!) at the Bowery Ballroom on Saturday night. . .went to see Princess Bibbi @ the Strand and then proceeded to walk to Delancey from 12th and B'way. . .long ass walk to say the least!!!

The show was pretty cool and everything that I figured a BJM show to be--amazing, frustrating, mesmerizing, and trying. . .The first forty minutes or so was powerful--this incarnation of BJM has a great chemistry and impact. They played a mix of older and newer material. . .

and then. . .this guy standing nearby begins to shout nonsense @ Anton. Of course, Anton stops the show and begins to tear the guy a new one. "I don't come to Walgreens when you're working and hassle you." Outstanding stuff. This jackass in the audience was the typical, ball-less chump and shut the f$%k up right promptly. Unfortunately, the dammage was already done--other people were getting frustrated with the lack of music, and Anton just went off about how the performance as time to be shared by the audience and the band as a whole and that he was not "your object" and "Toronto got two and a half hours" and we were not getting much of anything. The band played a fifteen-plus minute psyche-drone-jam and then they split.

Eventually, the band was coaxed back onto the stage for two more songs and then, near the end of the last song, band members began to just unplug and walk off. . .I wonder how their Sunday night show went. . .

Hotel 17 was pretty cool and reletively inexpensive. The room was small, but definately had a charm to it--the building itself was just amazing with all the great wood-work and had a style to it. I think I could get some major writing done there--very quiet. Although each floor shared a bathroom, there was a sink in the room and the bathroom was extremely clean. It was also very inexpensive to stay for the night--under 60 bucks I think.

On Sunday, I ate at Elvie's Turo-Turo--a Filipino place on 1st Ave. and it was amazing!! My friend and I ate for very cheap. I had Adobong Manok O Baboy (Chicken in a garlic/ansie sauce--kinda creamish) and this great dessert called halo-halo (kinda parfait-ish dessert with ice cream, frozen flan, and various fruits including sweet beans). Everyone there was very cool and helped end the trip on a good note, well that and Norman's Sound and Vision which had a kick-ass selection of soul music (found a Garnet Mims import as well as a hard-to-find Otis disc). The basement was full of great wax and my friend bought some Richard Pryor LP's.

and that's how i spent my summer vacation. . .

today's soundtrack

Black Rebel Motorcycle Club-s/t; Stone Roses-s/t; johnie taylor-who's makin' love; garnet mimms-warmth and soulful; otis redding-tell the truth; bjm-give it back; hopewell-& and the birds of appetite; elton john-madman across the water

tepid peppermint slumberland

So. . .I'm back in NYC tomorrow to see the Brian Jonestown Massacre, and I'm going to be staying in a hotel in the East Village. . .very excited.

How excited am I? I fell asleep for about an hour and a half this evening around 8pm. It has been such a long work week that I'm just drained. . .I can't believe that it's only 11:30! I feel like it's the middle of the night. Just want to get to the city. I think I might try to check out a poetry reading while I'm in town--maybe do an open mic or something. Probably hit the Strand to see my pal Bibbi. Should be fun. . .

Started to really work on my MA thesis today--drafting 2-4 new poems a week. Hopefully from this demoing phase, I can get a couple good pieces to build a chapbook around.

Sleep now. . .BJM tommorrow. . .

today's soundtrack:

teenage fanclub-bandwagonesque; ray lamontange-trouble; the la's-s/t; prince-hits 2; tom waits-closing time; jeff buckley-live at sin-e; nick drake-time of no reply; love-forever changes; toad the wet sprockett-fear; otis redding-good to me; ted hawkins-the next 100 years; husker du-candy apple grey

these people who don't like Derrida are idiots. . .

I work too much. . .some blind junkyard dog alliance to whoever signs my check--don't get me wrong I am not a merc. I guess what happens is that I get so wrapped up in what I'm doing I have a hard time disconnecting.

Case in point--at the end of work yesterday, a problem came up with WebCT (the online program our MA in CW uses). In keeping with my new philosphy, I left at the end of the work day--with the intention of going for a walk, eating dinner, watching AMERICAN MOVIE, reading William Carlos Williams, and then bed BUT NOOOOOOOOOOO!!! I took a walk, entirely consumed by the work problem until I figured the motherf%^ker out. I went back to work and fixed everything.

Do I say this out of resentment? No. I really like my job and what I'm doing. I just need to be more mindful of how much time I spend at work or it will become resentful.

I also spent $30 at the health-food store today. . .what the Hell is happening to me?


more later

today's soundtrack:
misfits-walk among us; ray lamontange-trouble; shuggie otis-insider information; sonic youth-goo; toots and maytals-best of...; ryan adams-heartbreaker; rites of spring s/t; johnny thunders-so alone

Harlem!

Went to the Harlem Bookfair this weekend. . .was bummed b/c we missed Amir Baraka who was reading as part of the open air poetry stage. They basically closed of W135St. between 5th and Adam Clayton Powell Jr. Blvd. The streets were filled with a variety of publishers, art, clothing tents, and food. I ended up buying 0 books (how lame am I?); however I did end up with a cool Curtis Mayfield t-shirt, a couple of other shirts and this great jazz print by Harlem artist Brian Collier. . .we met up with my pal Bibbi and ate at an awesome soul food joint right off of 135th. We ended up at a birthday party for a friend at the Faison Firehouse Theatre--owned by George Faison, a legend in Harlem dance and theatre circles. He won a Tony award for choreographing THE WIZ--amazing, down-to-earth cat. Ended up spending the night in Harlem. . .outstanding time!!!

There is this great and viceral energy flowing through the streets of Harlem, even at 3, 4 or 9 in the morning--it's very kinetic. I was a little disoriented by the vibe--actually more like overwhelmed. The real sad part is how Columbia has bought so much Harlem real-estate and has begun to gentrify the area. When will people learn they can become part of the community without destroying the pre-existing culture? I guess it's just the urban extension of Manifest Destiny (just ask any Native American).

more later. . .

today's soundtrack:
pj harvey-dry; REM-fable of the reconstruction; razorlight-up all night; soloman burke-don't give up on me; al green-let's stay together; pavement-wowwie zowie; snow patrol-final straw; spoon-girls can tell; beth orton-trailer park

Fight the Power!

Good Charlotte's gonna actually have to earn radio airplay instead of pay for it!

Busy, busy weekend in Harlem and at ye olde office. . .

more later

Today's Music

social distortion-white light, white heat, white trash and KCRW Simulcast (Morning Becomes Eclectic w/new stuff from Bob Mould)!

burnnnnnnnnnnnouttttttttttt

Working on setting up the MA in CW online courses. . .they need to be done and running by Sunday. . .my brain is running out of my ears whenever I tip my head.

At least I'm going to Harlem tomorrow. Harlem Book Fair!!!

more later.

work soundtrack:
lucero-nobody's darlings; ryan adams-demolition; brendan benson-the alternative to love; the damned-damned damned damned; brain jonestown massacre-and this is our music; weakerthans-fallow; u2-unforgetable fire; cave in-jupiter; the harder they come ost

old news. . .once more for the record:

So I got news today about an old girlfriend. She had a kid yesterday, and people were contacting me for my take on it. . .as if this was something newsworthy or what not. Well, for all who know me who read this blog, let me say this once: I am happy to hear that the kid is healthy and I wish them the best.

Did you catch that? Good, because that's all I'm saying about it. It's amazing to me how people want to "Falcon Crest" (great line, Bibbi!) a situation to add some sort of drama or spin to it. . .life goes on for everyone--I know it certainly has for me.

And who needs the drama anyway. I am 29, gonna be 30 in November. I don't need static or situations to boil over, especially from something over and done.

That said, I did feel a twinge of something when I heard the news--it was the same twinge when I found out two of my college roommates both had kids only monthes apart. Am I missing something?

The short answer is no. It will happen (or not) when it needs to--I stopped trying to catch up with the Jones' years ago. My life and what I'm doing with it is miles away from most of my old friends, and that doesn't mean one choice was better than the other--it means we chose different paths. . .the first bastard that even thinks Frost on that phrase should get smacked upside the head!

Life is life and it goes. . .

today's soundtrack:

david bowie-the man who sold the world; the verve-urban hymns; iron and wine-our endless numbered days; the stills-logic will break your heart; sonic youth-murray street; yo la tengo-i can feel. . .; jeff buckley-grace; marvin gaye-what's going on; josh rouse-1972; brian jonestown massacre-tepid pepermint wonderland; van morrison-st. dominck's preview; the comas-conductor

concrete jungle

so. . .I went to Target today to buy poster frames for my new office (that's right, i have my own office: feel the power of the secretary) and I couldn't pull the trigger on anything. As a matter of fact, I pretty much walked around briefly and left. I call this a bad consumer day, namely because there were so many folks out that I suddenly felt as if we were all cattle--livestock with disposable income, slowly herded from isle to isle buying tooth paste and designer cookware. . . I freaked and ran.

earlier in the day, Jay and I tried to pick up a couch @ the Salvation Army for a friend of ours and guess what? They resold the chair! There was a sold ticket on the chair, but that didn't stop the geniuses @ Sally's from letting that sonofabitch go without a recipt--the same recipt that I was told to bring when I was picking up said chair!!! How in the hell does this happen? Jay put it in perspective: "What do you expect when the store is pretty much run by junkies and convicts awaiting trial." Not to paint the picture that everyone who works @ Sally's is a coke-head or convicted b&e felon, but damnit it's not like they are the r & d department at Lockhead-Martin either. . .

more later

night soundtrack:
sam cooke-the immortal; al green-i can't stop; rolling stones-let it bleed; buzzcocks-singles gone steady

sketch 11

her skin looked different under the 40 watt moon,
moods shifted, like her legs on the couch, in
the kitchen, her parents spoke in pig latin--
a simple conversation drew question marks and
various puncuation over her face. . .she
stretched out like an august sunday
and started to dip her finger tips
in the small puddle of chocolate milk on her
lap, it wasn't pretty but the stain
looked like a short, fuzzy cross.
it ran parallel to her hips and a small
tributary ran its course to the edge of her
dress.

when they addressed her, her parents wore
gardening gloves. her father held a spade,
her mother dragged a bag of potting soil
behind her. . .
with a pinch of the nose and a tilt of the
head, her parents began to fill her newly
braceless mouth with soil.

she clutched at her stain,
and even though they could
no longer
understand what she was saying,
good catholic girls
who dream of roseries
always learn latin at the
damnedest moments.


afternoon soundtrack: the comas-conductor; brian jonestown massacre-tepid peppermint wonderland; otis redding-very best of vol.2; spoon-kill the moonlight; mojo music guide vol3: raw soul

trail mix: the motion picture!

So. . .I left the house today after work, not for a drink, not for music, not for dvd's, not for new books, not for a girl, not even for ice cream or fudge (I heart fudge). . .I left house for goddamn trail mix. . .

Let that sink in: trail mix.

I can't even say anything else, I am now going to go listen to Rusted Root and hang myself.

Today's soundtrack: secret machines- now here is nowhere; the stooges- fun house; sonic youth- sister; husker du- zen arcade; killing joke- s/t; brendan benson- lapalco; curtis mayfield- superfly ost; phish- that one where they sound like dirty hippies and dick around on their instruments and waste your time (kidding. . .I don't listen to Phish, they suck)

strange currencies

As another sunday goes the way of mili vanilli, I think about how I spent my time this weekend, and I realized that I actually spent more time deciding what I'm going to listen to than listening to cd's. . .it's pretty sad. I have a High Fidelity-sized music collection, thinking the more I have the more options I'll have so I'll never be without a song for a mood I'm in. . .BUT NOOOOOOOOOO. . .instead I spent almost an hour debating: do I feel like Happy Mondays or Mos Def--Manchester or Brooklyn? Eventually I ended up listening to Generation X. . .but I sat in relative silence for about an hour. How did life get so trite?

When I was homeless (and crashing couch to couch) cd selection was easy--most my music was under lock and key at my (now ex) girlfriend's place so I could only carry a dozen cd's--ryan adams, otis redding, the replacements, coltrane/hartman--the essentials. Now it's just overkill and overload.

Maybe I'll sell some off. . .who the f&#k am I kidding?! I need to by that DJ Shaddow reissue!

today's soundtrack: Generaton X-perfect hits; REM-monster; Public Enemy- he got game; iggy pop-the idiot; wu tang clan-enter the 36 chambers; lcd soundsystem-s/t; roy hargrove- hardgroove; prince-1999; guided by voices-official ironman rally song ep

Live from the heart of saturday night

So what does a freshly paid, very sharp young man do with his weekends? I'm home reading John Berrymen and HL Hix. . .let the chaos begin!!! As my twenties draw to a close, I have come to terms with the fact that: 1. I am a boring guy. and 2. I have ALWAYS BEEN A BORING GUY.

Granted, I am not staying up at night thinking "where did my youth go?" Hell, I'm still reading comic books and going out at odd hours to drink coffee. . . The fact of the matter is, I'm not at all exciting.

I don't really go out to bars anymore, hell I barely even drink. . .the last real big time bender I went on, I ended up "leaving" several dining establishments in the Orlando area. . . but that's another story (PS: regardless of what they say I NEVER put my head in that lobster tank!). In the mid-20's I drank like my stereotypes were in the driver's seat (1/2 Filipino, 1/4 Irish, 1/4 Native American). The Irish is all liver I guess. . . but those days are way over. Now I sit home and just read/write poetry and watch Criterion DVD's.

My friends were busting on me pretty fierce when I showed up the the new hipster bar the other night. They were treating it as if I should've cut a press release. . . "A public appearance" that had noting to do with a poetry reading. Made me think I should get out more, for about an hour and half. By midnight, I was more than happy to cart my boring, tired ass back home.

Maybe I'm too serious about writing and maybe I should be that Jon Favreau/Vince Vaughn SWINGERS cat, but f*(k it, all I ever really cared about was writing poetry so why should I stop now?

Being lame has got me this far. . .wait a minute. . .where am I?

today's music: son volt-TRACE; Frente-LABOUR OF LOVE EP; joni mitchell-BLUE; Jeff Buckley-MYSTERY WHITE BOY; Devo-ARE WE NOT MEN?; X-LOS ANGELES; paul westerberg-BESTERBERG; Jurassic 5-QUALITY CONTROL; tom waits-HEART ATTACK & VINE

update on events from Valentine's Day

So. . .when I last saw my garbage can, some bastard was stealing it on Valentine's Day!! But about two weeks ago, something amazing happened. . .

Jay and I were walking home from downtown WB and what do we see? My f#$kin' garbage can!!! It was full of crap, but it was mine--the sticker was still on the side of it. So Jay did what any best friend would do, he emptied the trash out of it (into the other cans, mostly) and we carried the sunovabitch home.

Life is all about cycles I guess. . .

more later.

today's soundtrack: Otis Redding-Dreams to Remember; Ryan Adams-Gold; Damien Rice-O; Soul Power Vol. 1; Weezer-1st album; Social Distortion-s/t; sonic youth-goo; White Stripes-White Blood Cells; Brian Jonestown Massacre-Thank God for Mental Illness; Tom Waits

post #100

Issue 100 is brought to you by:

1. Jesse Malin
2. Ryan Adams
3. Otis Redding
4. Raymond Carver
5. Jean-Luc Godard
6. Alex Chilton
7. Homer Simpson
8. Roy Orbison
9. Canadian Club Whiskey
10. Subway
11. MA/CW
12. Mr. Show
13. The Replacements
14. Hal Ashby
15. Rod Searling
16. Jeff Buckley
17. Vertigo Comics
18. Choclate Croissants
19. PBS
20. BBC
21. Buick
22. Emacs!
23. Nick Drake
24. Charlie's Blues, Jazz, Soul (Oklahoma City, OK)
25. Dugan's pub
26. Jay
27. Rolling Stones
28. Stax Records
29. Mojo Magazine
30. Foothills Press
31. Kevin Smith
32. Bergman
33. John Shaft
34. the 'rents
35. Mischelle
36. Tom Waits
37. Sam and Dave
38. Atlantic Records
39. Raymond Chandler
40. Gallery of Sound
41. Repo Records
42. Philly Cheesesteaks
43. Bowery Poetry Club
44. B&N Poetry Series
45. Elvis Costello
46. Phillies
47. Dr. Culver
48. Dr. Lennon
49. Philadelphia Eagles
50. Hunter S. Thompson
51. The Graduate
52. The White Stripes
53. Manuscript
54. Cornelia St. Cafe
55. Johnny Hartman/John Coltrane
56. Chamberlain
57. JL Borges
58. Lorca
59. Velvet Underground
60. Lost Horizons Wine
61. rubens!
62. John Lydon
63. Francios Trufaut
64-7. John, Paul, George, Ringo
68-9. Marvin and Tammi
70. Monty Python
71. Chapelle Show
72. Lenny Bruce
73. Miles Davis
74. Ted Hawkins
75. John Berryman
76. Led Zeppelin
77. MC5
78. 24 Hour Party People
79. Sub Pop
80. SST Records
81. Conan O'Brien
82. New York Dolls
83. Ian McKeye
84. Henry Rollins
85. The Onion
86. Aretha Franklin
87. Ray-Bans
88. Wilco
89. Sideburns!
90. Nineteen Seventy-Five
91. Springsteen
92. Autism Awareness
93. I 81
94. Iggy Pop
95. Kurt Vonnegut
96-99.Johnny, Joey, Tommy and DeeDee
100. Poetry

lunch

In lieu of lunch, I am writing. . .big surprise . . . got some new poem ideas, the first in a couple of weeks. I may draft something online shortly.

How can an egg sandwich taste so good? There is this place in downtown WB called CIrcles--there food is outstanding. I had an egg sandwich on a hardroll with smoked gouda cheese. . .unreal. The egg sandwiches are the best damn sandwiches in the world.

The kicker of it all is that it took someone from Oklahoma to tell me about this place. I've only lived here for ten years!!

more later. . .

am soundtrack: Ryan Adams-COLD ROSES; Jesse Malin-THE HEAT; Velevet Underground-LOADED; Son Volt: TRACE

"cotton candy and a rotten mouth. . ."

I have never had sunburn in my entire life, until yesterday. Apparently when I was dune walkin out on the Cape, my shoulders and neck got really, really burnt. I feel it today and it sucks. My superior genetics has let me down (again)!

I have all these thoughts and all these words swimming in my head, but when it comes time to say what I need to say, they all head to the door at the same time. It's like a 3 Stooges routine and I say absolutely nothing of substance. Instead I just lay on my couch and watch public televison. . .fun stuff. . .

Sometimes I feel like I'm in an emotional purgatory--a way station between feelings. My poetry professor called me "a voice in transition" and she's right. I just don't like how temporary everything feels. . .

PM Soundtrack:
Snow Patrol-Final Straw; Whiskeytown-Faithless Street; Beck-Sea Changes; Aretha Franklin-Lady Soul; Curtis Mayfield-Very Best of

here comes a regular

Mid-day ennui has set in. . . I am taking a small break because I have worked through yet another lunchtime. . . Sometimes I think I have some real issues with taking five at work. I guess since I don't have the kind of boss that lordes over me, I feel very self-sustained and independent. That's how I work best--leave me the f#$k alone and you'll get yer results. I guess that's why I like to write so damn much.

My hands look real old today--the lines and wrinkles are starting to appear. . . damn. I remember looking at my mom's thiny bony hands growing up--they were hard hands: so much back breaking labor was conducted by those fingers and wrists--she was a maid in Manilla starting at the age of 14. Hard hands.

My hands are old and tired from carving words onto the page. . .I'm a dork. . .

MORE LATER. . .

AM soundtrack: replacements: tim; ryan adams: heartbreaker; josh rouse: under the cold blue sky; ted leo: shake the sheets; nico: the marble index; miles davis: milestones

new job, antholgies, and p-town style

So. . .
don't you love how consistantly inconsistant the blogger universe is about updating? Well since we last spoke tru-believers, I have taken over a full-time slot as office assistant to the Director of Creative Writing @ Wilkes Univeristy. It means a salary, benefits, and my own office!! It also means I'm really a secreatary; however my mom has been telling everyone I am the Assitant Director of Creative Writing @ Wilkes University, and who am I to correct a Filipino mother? I pretty much to what I've been doing at Wilkes, except now I get to go home by 5 every goddamn night.

This also meant I had to say goodbye to the world of social work for a while. I think six years was a good run, though, and the door is always open. I don't know if I can goodbye to autistic children for too long. It's in the blood. I don't think Fugazi would be pissed if I never went back, but I gotta do something that makes life better for someone other than me (ladies and gentlemen, the preceeding moment was brought to you by Bono and Tim Robbins. . .).

So I read in @ the Bowery Poetry Club for the first time ever last Thursday. Somehow I ended up in this antholgy called IN THE ARMS OF WORDS. It's a benefit book to aid the victims and survivors of the Tsunami. Poets like Marge Piercy and Sparrow are in this book--real f$#in' poets and me, go figure. When Amy, the editor, introduced me she said "I don't know how this guy found out about our book. . ." Kids, this is what you call "being talked-up" by a host. Everyone at the reading pretty much knew each other but lil' ol' me but they were very open and cool to me--Steve Cannon asked me to submit some stuff to GATHERING OF THE TRIBES Magazine which is pretty damn cool. . .

I just got back from Provincetown, MA last night where I was representing Wilkes at the launch of PROVINCETOWN ARTS 20th aniversary issue party. Sure it was a 15 hour round trip road trip, sure I got no sleep, and sure no one knew who the hell I was, it was all very cool. Chris Busa, the editor of the magazine put me up for the night and we had a blast. I walked along the beach for several hours late late at night and felt the tide pull when I was waist deep in the wash. . .powerful stuff. From a landlocked boy who grew up next to a cornfield, I am really drawn to water--wow that and my fixation of bright shiny objects make my higher brain functions seem really good 'n smart, eh?

The next day we took a dune walk to the dune shacks overlooking the Atlantic. Chris said I was standing in the same place Thoreau stood when he was writing his poetry about the cape. No one else would get in the water--too cold (pansies). I did pay for it--my feet have blisters due to the soul-searing heat of the sand, but it was worth it.

I want to live in one of those shacks, even for a weekend and just disappear under the drift of a sand dune. . .maybe I could actually get some good writing done.

more later. . .

today's soundtrack:
social distortion-sex and drugs and rock n' roll; johnnie taylor-wanted: one soul singer; nick drake-5 leaves left; jeff buckley-grace; weezer-pinkerton; chamberlain-the moon, my saddle; r.e.m.-out of time; otis redding-otis blue; kayne west-college dropout; replacements-tim; lucero-nobody's darlings; damien rice-o; sam and dave-hold on, i'm coming

revival

Okay. . .so it's been over a month, and before that shit's been choppy at best. What can I say, life gets busy. . .too busy. . .I have been out of my writing routine. . .it happens this time every year. . .I run out of gas for a month or two and then get back crackin'. The bitch of it all is the fact that I am in the end-run of my first semester in GradSchool:yikes. . .Not the best time for my creative well spring and desire to be creative to take a nap, but it happens and it's almost over (the semester and the brain drain). . . oh well. . .

My manuscript has been offically accepted by Foothills Publishing and soon there will be: a release date and a website for the book. . .very stoked. I've been learning html as part of my GA gig so I'll be using my candy=assed talents to build the bad boy: prepare to be underwhelmed!!!

B&N tomorrow. . .new PA system. . .power and volume on Friday the 13th.

Socail life: in the toilet. . .Love life: floatin' right next to it. . . Can we say "I'm too busy,"? (cough). . .

more later:

today's soundtrack:
david bowie: rise and fall of ziggy stardust; ryan adams and the cardinals: cold roses; t.rex: electric warrior; b.b. king: live at the regal; black sabbath: sabotage; the shins: chutes too narrow; joy division: unknown pleasures; rushmore soundtrack; lcd soundsystem s/t

no april fools, unfortunately.

Mitch Hedberg is dead. . .what is it about working on Fridays that raises the body count. You can read about it here: http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/7356287/ or www.mitchhedberg.net

Jay and I were listening to Mitch's CD on our harrowing return from Philly a couple of weeks ago. He was our generation's Steven Wright. . .actually he was not in anyone's shaddow. At least, he was emerging from out of the old familiar tropes. . . he even turned down a sitcom deal. A true commedian of the stage.

AM soundtrack:

a tribe called quest-the low end theory; brian jonestown massacre-thank god for mental illness; bad brains-s/t; yo la tango-i can hear the heart beating as one; chromatics-plaster hounds

Spokenlist March '05

No animals were harmed during the making of this list. . .

1. BRIAN JONESTOWN MASSACRE
2. Kings of Leon "The Bucket"
3. Naked juice
4. Cheesesteaks
5. "Vertigo"
6. Dali
7. Repo Records
8. Queens of the Stone Age Lullabies to Paralyze
9. 24 Hour Party People
10.Dig
11."Casino of the Sun" by Jerry Williams
12.MA/CW
13.eMac!
14.Dr. House
15.chicken wings
16.Solomon Burke
17.Hitchcock
18.Kangol Hats
19."The Rum Diary" by Hunter S. Thompson
20.The Salvation Army
21.Ramones "Bonzo Goes to Bitzburg"
22.Cat Stevens "The Wind"
23.The Commitments
24. toasted Subway Subs
25. Keith Richards


pm soundtrack: the replacments!!!!

bonzo goes to bitzburg!

frustrated (in all the forms you could possibly consider, dear reader). . .burned out. . .tired. . .cranky. . .craving bacon. . .

I can't seem to get the motor running post-Easter break. Lethergy has nested like an in-law staying for an "extended weekend" and I focus has gone out the window. I have to work through it, like I always do, yes? Anyway you slice it, I have got to crank up the demon-engine this weekend and just get shit done. . .

more later.


am soundtrack: paul westerberg-14 songs; ramones-mania; mooney suzuki-people get ready; the la's-s/t; brian jonestown massacre-thank god for mental illness

dali, vegan cheesesteaks, and rain

I went to the Salvador Dali exhibit on Monday with my Oklahoman friend Mischelle. . . it is a must see. Spent almost three hours in the exhibit. It is running until May 15, you can check it out here. Mischelle had never been to the City of Brotherly Love so we hung out on South Street, checked out Repo Records and other music joints, ate good Mexican food and enjoyed the last real day off I will have until sometime in 2007. Mischelle also discovered the joy of a Philly Cheesesteak. . .well a vegan one. . . (NO COMMENT). It also pissed rain the whole day. It didn't matter a good time was had by all!

Back to the swing and grind!

am soundtrack: brian jonestown massacre and this is our music; eno another green world; leonard cohen greatest hits; zz hill greatest hits; yo la tango i can hear the heart beat as one

return of the mack

so. . . been without dsl for a whole week almost due to tech problems. . .argh. this is not good since i'm working on a masters degree that requires most of the classwork to be done through a dedicated self-contained url. . .bad juju. . .

been off of work since thursday and i love it. i have been a huge slacker. no work, no school, just poetry and movies and hanging out. . . good times.

mischelle was the feature last night @ test pattern: awesome stuff. i was working with her a little bit this week helping fine tune her material--like she really needed it--but she was great onstage!

going out for a pint? perhaps. . . let the slacking continue!


today's soundtrack: brian jonestown massacre tepid pepermint wonderland; jeff buckley grace; air moon safari; queens of the stone age lullabies to paralyze; at the drive in relationship of command; the who sings my generation; small faces ogden's nut gone flake; iron and wine our endless numbered days; stone roses s/t; dave brubeck time out; my bloody valentine loveless

busy

up to my neck in stuff to do: grad school, grad asst, tss, poetry, satan, taxes. . . goddamn busy. a good tired but tired none the less. the first round of burnout is hitting which is about right, it's coming half way through the semester. . .natural. next week i'm taking a five-day break from all of the nonsense to regroup and get away. . . maybe nyc, or boston or philly or downtown hoboken--one can never really tell. . . that's all i got.

today's soundtrack: snow patrol final straw; morrissey you are the quarry; all american rejects s/t; comas conductor; jesse malin fine art of self destruction; tom waits real gone; beatles 1; ramones leave home; smashing pumpkins gish

bergman, envelopes, and morning glory

brady's leap was amazaing last night--kind of a pogues bend with a stronger dramatic sense. phil brady's ability to live inside the poetry is otherworldly--plus he blows harp. lots of fun and a late night--slept through my alarm this morning 3x--couldn't get out of bed to save my life. ergo, i am stuffing envelopes in the office right now. needed a little break from the labeling gig--it's cool though: a good tired.

i feel like everything is really falling into place for me right now--like everything that has happened has lead me to the next two years of my life. i honestly believe that by the time i finish my m.a. in creative writing, i will be moving in a direction that there's no turning back from--and that's a good thing. . . was listening to springsteen's live version of "growing up" and he talks about how his family wanted him to be either an author or a lawyer--in order to "get a little something for yourself," He pauses and then he says "what they didn't realize is that i wanted it all." I can relate. i want the whole shoot match out of life--and i will not compromise any aspect of aspiration. the crazy part about it is i feel so close, the chase continues but the pace has quickened. . .what a great time to be in the world. . . i am a lame bastard! who cares!

more later

today's soundtrack: nick drake-bryter layter; joss stone-soul sessions ep; ray lamontange-trouble; jimmy scott-holding back the years; tim hardin-reason to believe; bruce springsteen-live 75-85; rolling stones-exile on main street; uncle tupelo-no depression; jesse malin-fine art of destruction; snow patrol-final straw; paul westerberg-stereo/mono

so tired, my mind is on the brink. . .

damn. working like a fiend today--very busy. brady's leap: a folk/poetry group from youngstown state is playing @ wilkes today and i've been on the roadie runaround--frantic but fun. ass was draging by 10:30 this morning, not good. took a power nap @ my desk--dr. lennon made a reference to morpheus, frost, and ricky nelson in one afternoon--outstanding. when i grow up, i want to be as cools as dr. j. michael lennon!

i did sleep last night; one of those stone dead forever sleeps where you don't even turn or move for five hours or so. . . woke up sore; however feel very tired today, need rest.

and it ain't coming my way. f#@k.

today's soundtrack: bruce springsteen-nebraska; beatles-1; ryan adams mix; teenagefanclub-grand prix; comas-conductor; skatellites-ball of fire; the jam-beat surender

healthfood-?

so i'm eating healthier food. . . kind of scary. last night i ate a whole meal without any trace of meat. i feel like i've let the meat industry down. . . a sell-out, a benedict arnold, a judas. . . the worst part about it was the fact that i didn't really notice there wasn't any meat. . . scary shit to say the least. . .

mischelle introduced me to this fruit drink called naked--it has a pound of fruit in every bottle!! crazy stuff but really tasty. . .i crave it several times a day. i crave naked. . . yeah that doesn't sound good at all does it?

more later

am soundtrack: bruce springsteen nebraska; ben e. king spanish harlem/don't play that song

record fair

wow. i really dislike music geeks. i know that i am one and maybe this is an exercise in self-loathing but this record fair always reminds me of two things: 1. there is life beyond wax and aluminum 2. to shower regularly. is it so goddamn hard to put on a pair of jeans people? sweatpants or bootcuts--mullets or mods--either so damn hip their scoffing at how ten seconds ago they were or so damn scruffy that they didn't realize 1975 was thirty years ago. and here i am, with jay in tow. where do we fit into this rabble? i hope we don't, but we will be lumped into this morass of subculture.

there were two younger girls there, very cute and bubbly--poor fools. i am sure they now smell like burnt cheese and day old budwiser. . . ten minutes in the joint and i remember why i stopped working in a record store. these are my people? no wonder i'm a f%*k-up and reclusive.

what's worse is there is this sense of aristocracy that comes from these people--goddamn know-it alls who have nothing better to do than to tell you why your purchase of joe cocker's classics 4 pales in comparisson to the a&m anthology, like i am some bumpkin. or worse, there was this guy who sold jay a misfits boxset without a pin. he tried to tell us that "the pin only came with the first pressing--" why not be honest with us? why did he have to flat out lie? so i had to tell him and the entire row of his customers that he "was full of horseshit." these people bite.

i am going to the airport to pick up mischelle in a couple of hours. . . until then naptime!

am soundtrack: joe cocker classic vol.4; redd kross born innocent; comas conductor; misfits boxset; black flag the first four years; pulp different class

sketch ten

Maybe the title is the first thing you should write,
it gives you direction, gives a heading to the course.
but maybe it's about being lost, tossed into the mix
the thick middle of a circumstance beyond titles,
names get in the way here, why give a clue--

should the out be easier than the in?

a good reader should lose sleep over good poems,
especailly when the writer abuses the audicence
gives no direction, no purpose and no helping hand.

hope is there for the claiming,
like a dishonest lost and found,
like liar's poker on a sunday morning.
if you can't trust the press to run inkly smudged
then the line would always be blury regardless.

maybe the title is the last thing you write,
a summary, a nice happy ending
with whipped topping.
give your audience a chance to turn back
by knowing the answer before the question:

interpretation gets all manners of faith into trouble anyway.



latenight soundtrack: teenage fanclub grand prix; natelie merchant tigerlilly; cat stevens best of; tim hardin reason to believe; nick cave and the bad seeds no more shall we part

cleaning house

cleaned my car, my bathroom, my kitchen, took out the trash, emptied all the paper and nonsense out of backseat, vaccumed, bought lightbulbs, made a meatsauce from scratch-- it was about as domestic as i'll ever get today. felt good to get things straightened out before the work week comes back around. . . needed distraction today. . . needed mindless today. . . sometimes i spend too much time thinking. it is the bi-product of being an only child/geekboy from the middle of nowhere. in danville all i had was time alone. it definately shaped who i am and how i watch the world at large. . . made me inwardly motivated if not outwardly awkward. them's the breaks, right?

spent a lot of time on grad school today--reading, reading, reading. i've got some poem sketches floating around in my head, maybe i'll post them later--dunno. . .we'll see. . .

lots of smashing pumpkins and green day in the stereo. . . being really riffing on "cherub rock," i listened to that song a couple times today. it's like a good itch to scratch. . .yeah. . .

record fair tomorrow. . .i am crawling out of my skin in anticipation. been waiting for sunday for days now. . . at least ten of 'em. . .

more later.

today's soundtrack: green day warning/kerplunk/dookie; smashing pumpkins siamese dream/mellon collie and the infinite sadness; r.e.m. monster; tim hardin reason to believe; husker du metal circus ep; bad religion stranger than fiction; bruce springsteen nebraska

barnes and noble reading

tonight's reading was very quick for ol' b&n--it seems that people are just showing up later and later nowadays--in the end there was probably 15-20 people in attendence throughout. the set up was real odd too--a "in the round" kind of vibe. oh well. read new material, made an ass of myself, plugged upcoming readings--the same old same old. some new faces tonight--a couple of h.s.-er's making their second consecutive appearance: it's good to see new blood getting a chance to get over the fear of reading in front of this kind of public audience. it's the vibe we have formed at this reading: very open, very positive--hopefully without getting the "touchy-feely-cardigan-and-aura-reading" vibe. it's still my favorite reading because not everyone is there to hear poems--getting someone to sit and check poetry out (to me) is just flat out awesome. a lady sat through the entire reading, and actually had a good time. will she be out again? doesn't matter--for one night, she was exposed to live poetry--and i think she connected to the energy in some sort of way.

enough soapbox. . .i can't help it: i love poetry and i love being an mc.

more later

todays soundtrack: jeff buckley sketches for my sweetheart the drunk; the jayhawks blue earth; smashing pumpkins siamese dream; aretha franklin aretha arrives/areath now!/lady soul; travis the man who; charles mingus this is jazz; john coltrane ole coltrane; whiskeytown faithless street; teenage fanclub grand prix; tom waits rain dogs

getting lost

the number one reason i'm late for anything comes down to this: i have too many cd's and it causes for long deliberated choices on what goes with me. i can't leave the house without three cd's regardless of where i'm going. i have tried to plan out what will go with me to work, but somewhere in the eight hours between selections, i have totally changed my mind. granted, there are some cd's that get on streaks with me--beit because they are new (mars volta frances the mute, kings of leon aha shake heartbreak) or classic (the beatles rubber soul, the replacements entire catalog) or just mood/phase (my seasonal jazz phase): lots of noise and nonsense.

today i rediscovered the no alternative compliation. c'mon soul asylum doing "sexual healing!" YES!!! plus matthew sweet, the breeders, buffalo tom, urge overkill, pavement, soundgarden! how about uncle tupelo tearing through ccr's "effigy." a goddamn gem of a disc.

it's amazing how well the songs of our youth hold up--there is something so intuitive to these songs, these bands: they become latched to your genetic make-up. the music, i mean the music that really defined your teen years and became your soundtrack, never truly loses its hold on you. granted, there are bands from high school that i don't listen to and think "yes, i am still down with Morbid Angel." such artists were only peripheral to your sense of self--a sidebar or a phase--something to measure that first big "hair on the back of your neck" rush meaningful music gave you. for me, it was roy orbison--hearing "just running scared" at the age of twelve ignited a life-long persuit to chase that sensation not only in what i was spinning on a stereo but in creating my own poetry.

the sensation of "your music" gets intensified by discovering bands in your now. i came of age with grunge and britpop, and like a good gen x-er i bought my nirvana and oasis cd's but i also grew up with bands like bad religion, beck, mudhoney, rancid, green day, supergrass, stone roses, fugazi, weezer, uncle tupelo (later wilco and son volt), social distortion, smashing pumpkins, gorilla biscuits (later quicksand and rival schools), tori amos, blur, nine inch nails, the pixies, the jayhawks, jeff buckley, rem, radiohead--music either starting, striving, or peaking during formative years. i remember thinking at the time how left out i felt--missing the replacements, black flag, bad brains, the clash, hell punk in general. now i think about my high school/college music life and only now i am getting a sense of what i had growing up around me. . . damn, i was lucky.

do yourself a favor, dig out (or buy) an old cd from the salad days. treat it like an old flame and you'll be surprised the love it reveals. . .

today's soundtrack: no alternative compilation, smashing pumpkins gish; urge overkill stull ep; liz phair exile in guyville; aimee mann whatever; fugazi repeater; radiohead the bends; paul westerberg 14 songs; my bloody valentine loveless; d generation no lunch; weezer pinkerton

the abbey road theory proven once again

had a bad day unitl i got home and was greeted by books! books! books! and a twilight zone dvd! bibbi sent me a literary care package--as if she knew today flat out sucked (in a very physically painful way to boot) for me. you rock, bibbi!

i am truly blessed to have such family out there taking care of me. the amount of love and friendship offered to me never ceases to amaze me--people like jay, bibbi, andrea, bobby t, mischelle (and too many more to ever fully list here) are the kind of souls that defy the definiton of words like friend or family. i love them more than i could ever say.

so why was my day so bad? who f$@king cares!

today's soundtrack: nick cave and the bad seeds best of; tommy stinson village gorilla head; iron and wine our endless numbered days; at the drive in relationship of command; frente labour of love ep; elton john madman across the water; john coltrane and johnny hartman; mojo presents raw soul; rushmore original motion picture soundtrack;

sketch 9

i made wishes,
you made sacrifices:
these are the safe
devices of being
instead of becoming.
in a cornered way
you have become
the trapped copy
of 8x11
entanglements
but i will always
margin walk to
meet wide rule lines
on such red
letter days.

you
build muscle
around my paper heart,
give pulse-

i build words
beyond my crippled voice
take impulse-

in the twists of roads
imperfect tenses
relax the jawline,
and
carve calm into the
unsteady meter of
imperfect poetry

once steady,
two blue lines will
drift from paralell
to their eventual
intersection,
a naturalizing bend
(in) path, direction, location. . .

pm soundtrack: miles davis in a silent way; lucero that much further west; small faces s/t; beatles for sale/help; jellyfish bellybutton; joss stone soul sessions ep; rem reckoning

near death experience theater!

so i was kinda over my flu with the exception of the whole-stomach burning from the inside out thing and i decided to be jay's navagator to philly int'l airport. we left by about 430 and got there by around 630--which meant we had two options: hangout until everything opened or go the hell home. we chose option 3--almost end up in trenton nj! we got a little lost coming out of the airport but we did end up in lovely bensalem PA, home of nifty fifty's family fun diner. i had a cheesesteak and fries--the first real food i've had in almost three days. . .still in my stomach as we speak! we were so tired and just plain miserable at the turn our morning took, we decided to venture back homeward--

then the F%$KING SNOW CAME!

at first it was raining "dipping dots" but by the time we hit the leigh tunnel, it was snow squallin' like gangbusters! we were almost clipped on several occasions. . .not fun at all. the last ten miles to the turnpike exit had 0 visability and a semi that couldn't decide which lane to be in--so it just kinda drifted from one to the other.

wilkes-barre was a little better and we bummed around just trying to calm down from the near death we almost tasted. . .worst philly trip ever? you f*#king bettcha!!

it's hard to believe that we have already been going strong for over eight hours! damn! oh yeah, still kinda feel like a sack-o-crap.

more later. . .going to go have heartattack now. . .

am soundtrack: beatles white album/rubber soul; mitch hedberg; green day american idiot; ramones mania;

the cramps stay sick but i don't

fever broke, feeling better or at least good enough to co-pilot jay to philly int'l airport. dropping off bob and our friend megan. . . should be interesting. stomach still not wonderful but good enough can't let a pal fly solo, right? hmm. . . cheesesteak? perhaps. . .

more later

afterhours soundtrack: elliot smith x/o; replacements don't tell a soul; mars volta frances the mute; secret machines now here is nowhere

sick part two (electric boogaloo)

i definately have a stomach bug. if i was not sure before, today has left no doubt. it sucks. . . still sleeping in shifts but sleeping a lot, which is good. . . i will wait out the sickness, i have become good and patient about such matters. i guess working in autism teaches you patience if nothing else. some things are worth waiting for, waiting out. it is never a question of if in my book anymore, it is always a question of when.

i wasn't always so patient, there was a time where i was very impulsive. i still am in a lot of ways, and that's okay. impulse and patience can co-exist. they circle like vultures and it would be easy to get caught up in feeling one overwhelms the other. it's like anything else though, we are always in flux moving towards equilibrium, that's all. we may feel like our lives have been ruled by rash decisions and bad mistakes, but instead we should look at where these decisions have taken us--we cannot feel so guilty that we become ponderous to a fault. i have had the hamlet blues for many years and lately i have forgoten to actually act--instead i think about action. no harm/no foul right? i have forgotten impulsivity and have been ruled by my caution. what is the head without the heart, then? you need both and you have to forgive both for the turns you take. . .

at the end of the day whatever we have chosen (good or bad) provide us with our location. sometimes where we end up is far better than we could have ever imagined--although at the time you would be hard-pressed to believe such logic.

of course, this could be the fever talking. . .no rod stewart/dead collaborations today though. . .

more later.

today's soundtrack: soloman burke don't give up on me; otis redding live at the whiskey a-go-go; tom waits small change; david gray lost songs; joni mitchell blue; elliot smith figure 8; jimmy scott heaven; big star #1 record/radio city; replacements let it be; gin blossoms new miserable experience; carol king tapestry

still still sick

not going to university today, my boss has a heart. going to my other job today, no comment.
i should be home by 4 at least instead of 8 so i'm thankful for that--can't keep much down and i don't know if i'll be going to philly tomorrow. . .

this sucks.

am soundtrack: wilco being there; carol king tapestry

still sick

although most of my fever and chills are gone, my stomach is killing me. it feels like i am trying to digest broken glass. my stomach's churning actually woke me up from two naps today. sleep has been my m.o. this whole weekend--just hazily drifting out of slumber for a hour or two at a clip. . .not bad, feels like a full blown boozy stupor. . .not that I know what they feel like. . . right, anyway, I hope to feel well enough to go to philly on tuesday--probably will, i'm just keeping it all low key until then.

maybe i can just sleep my way through the next day or two and then return to my hibirnation on wednesday. . . sleeping until next weekend sounds really nice right now. i think the flu is my body's way of telling me to rest more than i do. hey if it means one weekend every two years, i can deal. . . sleep helps make waiting go faster, too.

evening soundtrack: mars volta frances the mute; brain wilson smile; the beatles revolver; tom waits closing time

sick!

i think i have the flu. it started yesterday afternoon with aches and stiffness and now all i want to do is sleep. i have chills (and there multiplying) and my stomach sounds like a pepper mill. spent last night in a daze watching pbs--i know PBS! there was live concerts by rod stewart and the grateful dead--at one point i thought they were playing together. ol' jerry noodling away on "maggie may"--dirty hippies doing that spinning nonsense to "hot legs." who the hell needs drugs--just let your brain boil due to fever!

i haven't felt this ill in about two years. the last time i had the flu i didn't have anywhere to live. i was staying with my then girlfriend; however her roommate didn't want me there alone. so i got the flu on a weekend when she was working and i had nowhere to go. i tried to wait out her shift at barnes and noble but i almost passed out in the poetry section. i decided to just rent a room at the local travelodge.

the travelodge loosley fit all the definitions of a hotel--it had a bed, a tv, and a bathroom. there was a red ring in the tub that made me think of janet leigh in psycho and the room smelled like cheap cigarettes--at least it had cable. i spent the night, shaking a fever from my skin and eating bad takeout pizza. . .not one of the best night of my life!

i feel a little better this morning but i do believe i'll be going back to bed. ugh. . .

am soundtrack: ray lamontange trouble; sam cooke the rhythm and the blues; joni mitchell blue; miles davis kind of blue; roxy music avalon

sketch 8

she pours the sweetness into the receiver,
and he lies floored, heart spilling blood
on dirty white carpets, there isn’t talk
of tears anymore,

less a conversation:more a promise.

Crimson flaws
like untrapped passion--a distance grown shorter
by the long cuts of night he threads with his tongue.

to unravel the code of parted lips is to
clue into the world as a whole:

in the air thoughts and promises all deny
gravity,
words rise to inhabit the temperature of
a room.

he is so openly honest that his red river
assumes he will drown, and this is not
the way of fatalism, this is an open
mouth kiss of delta known only as waiting.

pm soundtrack:

nina simone best of; nick drake time of no reply; van morrison moondance

sublimation

sometimes, it's just the act of being at work that keeps me moving. i started swinging away at it round nine or ten this morning. maybe it's the inner nick adams, a need for working with my hands--a clear and disarmed headspace. . . I am organizing my work area and reorganizing. In a lot of ways it's like pre-rinsing tomorrow's dirty dishes. . .

i think i also like the remote location of the office. it's friday night and i am the only person in the entire building, had to be let in actually. . . there used to be ghost stories involving this place. . . well, it's just me and the ghosts tonight, then . . . hope they like hazelnut coffee. i think i'm actually going to finally go home for a little while, i've had a couple offers for a free drink or two. might take some of those offers seriously.

i can't get solomon burke out of my head today, or otis redding, or john coltrane and johnny hartman: perhaps they are the ghosts, well least the traces of recent vintage. . . more of a sensory spirit resemebling the lighted mountainside profile of a small town dying to be a city in a car dreaming of its own wings. . .

more later

evening soundtrack: elvis costello and burt bacarach painted from memory; percy sledge when a man loves a woman; solomon burke don't give up on me; thelonious monk monk's blues

where is elvis costello and burt bacarach when you need them?

"What came first? The music or the misery? People worry about kids playing with guns and watching violent videos, we're scared that some sort of culture of violence is taking them over...But nobody worries about kids listening to thousands -- literally thousands -- of songs about broken hearts and rejection and pain and misery and loss.Did I listen to pop music because I was miserable, or was I miserable because I listened to pop music?"
--High Fidelity

I am now on the third floor of Kirby Hall in an actual office with an actual desk and a real stapler; however my computer refuses to let me in so I am on a pre-networked computer. This has always been a dream: an office in an english department. OK, so I'm only a grad assistant and this is a shared space, ca ne fait rein, I can call it home. I am in my new office, working and spinning soul music. art is longing and sam cooke is my proof. . .

The quote above is what i finally fell asleep to last night--for a long time I was unable to watch High Fidelity--the Stevie Wonder song over the credits made me cry like a little girl. Last night I watched and felt. . .whole. Sometimes we get completion in ways we never would sanely admit to one another in the passing streetlights of nighttalking, but when we do get it, when we feel such a way, we got to do our damnedest to hold on and not let go. . . I don't want to ever let go of that feeling or (hoepfully) what led me to it. . .sometimes it's a moment, sometimes it's poem or a song or a smile, sometimes it's not that easy to pin down.

but sometimes it is. . .

pm soundtrack: soloman burke don't give up on me; marvin gaye and tammi terrell greatest hits; sam cooke the man and his music; the replacments let it be

request and dedications. . .

so somebody had requested to see the following poem in print form (i guess to either swoon over it or to tear it a new one--guess where the winning bets are being placed!) as case kasem would say, here' your request and dedication (minus the dedication). . .

Cyrano is destroying the youth of America.

He broke ballpoints like Ticonderogas,
Splinters of ink traded for lead.
Lost and tired of pronouns with faces,
Since when did poems become a pick-up line?
He doesn’t want to write her a poem,
He wants her to understand the poems
that already exist,
He wants to talk about Dylan,
Bob and Thomas alike,
Tangled up in blue,
Do not go soft into that goodnight,
(Instead)
his John Hughes mouth has
marshmallows for teeth and a
bubble gum tongue
tied—

THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT HE DOESN’T WANT!!


Prufrock poems aren’t special,
straight lines are disrespected by
the angles that fight form when
light
hits lens—
curved and inverted images,
poetry is
second hand smoke read
and
topsy-turvied by the eye.
Feelings don’t beg to be written.
Affection is only a muse when chased.
Pens push paper into
separatist language.
He just wants to say something
that isn’t romantic,
Or scripted
Or perfect.

His chair empties,
A coat hoisted full
Mast with arms,
Door shutting ends a poem
And starts their conversation.

am soundtrack: frente labour of love ep; joss stone the soul sessions; teenage fanclub 13; neil young harvest

i spoke too soon

well, it was a good run while it lasted. . . actually fell asleep by 9ish tonight and was up wide awake by midnight. . . it's not insomnia though, it's just being listless. . . overthinking perhaps? nothing heavy, just knowing my dance card is full . . . i guess i need to revert back to some method acting--remembering the last time i was sleepy and just going with that--hope to catch up some this weekend.

i think the late hours are all about the company you keep. i guess i'm just too good of company for me to pass up on (how 'bout that for syntax and diction!). . . it's nighthawks, last call-ers and me, the third shift away from the sun. . .

more later

afterhours soundtrack: nick drake time of no reply; tom waits early years vol. 1 and 2

you know it was prince's song first, right?

so i decided to "eat my dinner at a fancy resturant" today, alone. i used to go out to eat by myself a lot--actually ate several holiday dinners with the company of the fine staff of The Mark II Family Resturant. i never really noticed anyone watching me eat a diner by myself. . .until tonight.

the waitress, a wadded shoeleather shell of a woman, came over and asked "are you waiting for someone?" and when i told her no, she gave me an understanding nod--the kind of nod that tells me "you poor sad man, of course you're not waiting for anyone." it was very uncomfortable--then i noticed that i was about the third warm body in the resturant (the jury out on leather face there) and they were all looking at me. they had sat me in the middle of the dining floor--like i was stranded in a sea of empty boothes and unclaimed 4tops. . .

they took their time getting to me. . . there was a couple at a booth--youngish and very self-involved. when the man went up to go to the bathroom, the girl kind of looked my way and gave me a faint nod--the kind of nod you offer an aquaintence when you find out they've been audited or their pet cat has died.

i started to freak out a little bit. . .alright. . .after about ten minutes, more couples were being seated around me--like i was on display. . .that made me really start to tweak. maybe it was that i had become more aware of "dining alone" by leatherface, or that there weren't that many people, or because i was sitting in a wide open space alone with a cup a coffee. . . whatever it was, i had enough and put down a 3 spot and left. . .i got a take-out pizza and now i'm sitting in front of this computer. believe me it sounds more sad and pathetic than it really was. . . i left because i got freaked out by people watching (or thinking people were watching). it was not because i'm launching into some cure-inspired fit of self-loathing, pancake make-up wearing black hearted drama riffage. . .you shouldn't misconstrue "alone" with "lonely" or even "lonely" with "sad" and you shouldn't tan if you're over sixty--my god it reminded me that i need to get leather gloves to match my brown jacket!!!

today's soundtrack: dusty springfield dusty in memphis; kings of leon aha shake heartbreak; ryan adams rock and roll; elliot smith x/o; u2 the unforgetable fire; nick cave and the bad seeds let love in; percy sledge ultimate collection; miles davis miles smiles; teenage fanclub bandwagonesque; solomon burke don't give up on me

call me weak, baby!

'cause I'm finally sleeping! for the first time this year, i have slept for more than 4 hours straight two nights in a row. it's been nice, not feeling so zombiefied around mid-afternoon. we'll see how long this lasts. . . ergo, there hasn't been much going on in my life. . .waiting to hear back from publishers--that's about it. . . but f%$k it: I'M SLEEPING!! Reading new Bukowski book, Slouching Towards Nirvanna--he has two more coming out this year. I think only 2Pac has released more shit post-mordem than ol'Charles. . .

more later

today's soundrack: mars volta frances the mute; ray lamontange trouble; kings of leon aha shake heartbreak; snow patrol final straw; r.e.m. monster; david gray white ladder; smokey robbinson and the miracles anthology; the commitments original motion picture soundtrack

spokenlist: feb '05

The following is a list of things that fueled my engine in the month that was:

1. razorlight "don't go back to dalston"
2. kings of leon aha shake heartbreak
3. the big sleep by raymond chandler
4. all of us by raymond carver
5. sniper (play by bonnie culver)
6. almost famous: bootleg edition
7. sealab 2021
8. snow patrol final straw
9. OTIS REDDING
10. Slouching to Nirvana by charles bukowski
11. "passage for trumpet" (twilight zone)
12. replacements let it be
13. ben & jerry's peanut butter cookie dough ice cream
14. house, m.d.
15. ma/cw
16. the office
17. bubba ho-tep
18. little steven's underground garage
19. walking in the snow
20. middleswarth sour cream and onion chips
21. jesse malin "downliner"

today's soundtrack: dusty springfield dusty in memphis; otis redding otis blue; u2 the joshua tree; stevie wonder songs in the key of life; elliot smith x/o

sleep is for the weak

I took a nap today for about an hour in the pm--pretty much all the sleep i really got today. was up beyond awake and tired last night. . . lots of backroads and good language. even jay made comment to my zombie-fied ass this morning. . . I don' t know how Lester Bangs did it--oh yeah, speed. . . and oh, yeah, he's dead.

more later.

today's soundtrack: john coltrane and johnny hartman s/t; elvis costello and burt bacarach painted from memory; nick drake pink moon; jimmy scott holding back the years; tom waits early years vol. 2; gladis knight and the pips; otis redding good to me/live at the whiskey a-go-go; stevie wonder songs in the key of life; lucero tennesee; jesse malin the heat

sketch 7

a powerless design,

everyone sees themselves

in every you-turned phrase.

she spilled her flirt table-length:

"girls dream of being poems"

i

keep telling these

twelve point confessionals

that poems

dream of girls to emulate.

in the better parts of

empty beds, words are tired

of becoming failed promises

so they hold out for abstraction,

to be the amalgam of hair

colors and perfumes. . .

an influence over low tides only,

no longer a slave to heart-string

gravity

poems are as fickle as their

authors,

and

hold grudges, too--

deadpan meditations on solitude,

rhetorical

rehearsals stonewall silence,

to toss their turns into the

knotted bellies of sleeplessness:

a

girl

with

many

names,

none of which

containing or

implying you.

night sountrack:

kings of leon aha shake heartbreak; jeff buckley sketches for my sweetheart the drunk; jesse malin messed up here tonight; rolling stones exile on main street; nick cave and the bad seeds let love in

day off!!!!!!!!!

The whole day off? Wow. . .forgot about the sweet freedom of it all.

So far today I:

-went to both jobs (not to do work: I know I'm so LAME)
-did an AM coffee & grocery run w/my pal Mischelle
-hung out at a coffee house (maybe found an artist for my cover?)
-almost got hit getting out of my car
-bought a book
-listened to the replacements
-worked on Paper Hearts. . . draft

Speaking of The Replacments: Paul Westerberg is God, and his disciples get remastered this fall!

Poetry reading tonight? Dunno. . . may have other plans. . . more later.

daytime soundtrack:
The Replacements Let it Be/Please to Meet Me/All Shook Down/Stink EP; Kings of Leon aha shake heartbreak; Stevie Wonder Talking Book; Jesse Malin the heat

buick shaped bobsled mania!

Sometimes i wonder what determines what street gets plowed when. Consider nanticoke--a place where, apparently, they have one snow plow. His name is Jeb, he's 84 years old and that old schwin with the two pan-handle shovels ducked taped to the front just doesn't get around as quick as those "horseless carriages" he keeps hearing about. I guess since no one leaves nanticoke, it's alright to let snow just pile up on the f$#ing streets!

My rewrite goes out tomorrow--had to make some hard decisions about what stayed/went. I am sure someone will not be happy; hopefully that someone is not the publisher!

I got the morning off tomorrow, so I plan to:

a) drink heavily tonight, be hung over all damn day tomorrow
b) sleep in until sometime after 1PM.
c) hang out @ Wilkes and chit-chat with everyone who's working
d) three words: corned-beef hash!
e) get up at the same damn time, go to my other job and then do stuff

If you guessed--well, if you guessed any answer maybe you have too much free time. Go read a book or take a walk or something. . .

more later

today's soundtrack: kings of leon aha shake heartbreak; miles davis kind of blue; bobby womack stop on by; secret machines now here is nowhere; jackson browne late for sky; etta james her best; radiohead the bends; Rhino Soul Hits Vol. 1; ray lamontagne trouble

Yeah but who would keep aubrey awake on her drive home?

I think my insomnia comes from my dad--since i can remember he has always worked crazy work shifts, often doing overnights and grabbing sleep between 7 and 11 in the morning. Four hours--that's what i work on, too. . .

Someday I hope to fix my broken-ass sleep clock!


late-night soundtrack: miles davis porgy and bess; magnetic fields 69 love songs; tom waits closing time

traps: fickle, tender, and escape plans

there are so many things that are stretching me and how i feel tonight that i can't focus: people not getting it, people thinking a book deal means $$$$, looking at my bank statment, meeting James Jones Contest winner John Smelcer, eating my first real meal in two days, trying to be social in a roomful of social workers. . . too many things to say that would both incriminate and frustrate me (people actually read this now--like people i don't even know: odd). Believe me this isn't me filtering how i feel about x,y,or person z but there are somethings nobody gets from me nowadays--(i'm trying to wise up, yes?)

instead of all this nonsense, i'll just say a couple of things about my grad assistanship. Sometimes, if you are lucky, a second chance is tossed your way to rewrite an ending--my grad assitantship is my second chance. i am not very proud of how my college career ended--a lot of people who earmarked my potential were privately disappointed (no more so than yours truly) at what i was becoming or what i was squandering. . . as a result i lost contact with so many people who really inspired me and molded those good parts of me i cling to today--namely both dr. fields and dr. culver always challenged me and provided me with chances to become live up to my poetential, but in a way, I f*&ked that up--call it young, drunk, and stupid.

fastfoward a couple of years and the brass ring has been polished off, tarnished removed and it dangles in front of me again--now i get it, this is the second chance to do something with a gift i almost stuffed inside a bottle and through messageless into a whiskey river. it won't go down like that this time around.

tonight i was invited to have dinner with my fellow grad assistant, dr. fields (now dean fields), dr. culver, a couple of Manuscript editors, faculty, and John Smelcer. in the middle of dinner, dr. culver was sitting across the table watching me tell Smelcer all about the poetry scene in this area. i caught her out of the corner of my eye give that look--a look that had been lost for several years of me being a fool. . .

i'm home.



ps: did you know that volvo's were designed to prevent moose from entering through the winshield in a head-on collision scenario? those zany sweedes: thanks darrin!


today's soundtrack: Kings of Leon Aha Shake Heartache; Otis Redding Dictionary of Soul; Tracy Chapman s/t; Razorlight up all night; Eddie Piaf Volume 1; Replacments Let it Be; Al Green I Can't Stop; Snow Patrol Final Straw; REM Dead Letter Office; Nina Simone Best of; Toad the Wet Sprocket fear

the bucket

Sure, crazy happens in Detroit, the Bronx, and Camden; however their crazy is the usual urban fare. When shit goes south in a place like this, it is so much more bereft of sanity simply because everyone in towns like these are so tightly wound:

This what happens when someone loses their nut in a small town.

Alright, this isn't what I really wanted to talk about, but damn! Chainsaw!!! You hardly ever get a chance to pick up the local newspaper with that kind of headline. . . see, kids we are growing and progressing--a downtown gigaplex cinema, chainsaw wielding maniacs, minor league football, welcome to the new Wyoming Valley!

I am very close to a rewrite on my poetry book. It should be going out by the end of the week! Mischelle has been a huge help with the final poem cuts--it's also flattering to have someone who has made a career within the English field take an interest in my work. She has offered great criticism and encouragement.

more later. . .

today's soundtrack: solomon burke don't give up on me; joss stone the soul sessions ep; chamberlain exit 263; kings of leon aha shake heartbreak; marvin gaye super hits; jimmy scott holding back the years; plow united; whiskeytown faithless street; uncle tupelo anodyne; new york dolls s/t; sam cooke the man and his music; the band s/t

Gone.

Goodbye, Raoul Duke.

late night soundtrack: marvin gaye what's going on

Passage for Trumpet

My friend from Brooklyn Bibi was here all weekend--it was nice to spend quality time with an old friend--she and Andrea took me in during a time in my life where I was homeless, I will always be in their debt. . . You could not ask for a better person--she works @ the Strand and had Chandler and Bukowski for me. . .what a cure all!

Didn't really do much just bought tons of movies, listened to music and watched the twilight zone. I love the twilight zone--I got a dvd with the episode "Passage for Trumpet"--one of the greatest monologues in tv history is delivered by Jack Klugman at the story's begining. If you have not seen it--shame. . . "jewled sound" indeed! I forget how much of an impact watching the twilight zone actually had on me--makes me want to dress in a suit and tie everyday of my life. Beyond that nonsenese comment, the consolidation of story and pace that occured in each episode was amazing. To think that there was a time that network tv offered such poetry in the language of their dramas is almost unbelievable in a world of the OC and Fear Factor. Granted, there are great tv dramas; however, this was a thirty minute antholgy--different stories, different actors, different language every week--36 episode seasons! I was 12 when I first watched the twilight zone on tv--WPIX out of NYC used to do a 24 hour marathon on new years and the fourth of july. i would tape it and watch these vids until the picture would ghost and the vcr consumed the footage. . .

"Passage for trumpet" was the second twilight zone episode i ever saw. it introduced me to jazz and it gave me a new language for my burgeoning passions--music and poetry. . .

The Twilight Zone may also explain why I'm so damn odd, but I don't think I can sue anyone over not getting a date until I was 17. Then again, that lady with the McDonnald's coffee. . . (see also Dennis Leary's rant about Dan Fogelberg and James Taylor)

today's soundtrack: R.E.M. document/dead letter office/green; big star columbia; ryan adams heartbreaker; hank williams 24 greatest hits; chamberlain fates got a driver; less than jake hello rockview; beatles s/t; stan getz verve jazz masters; son volt trace;

poetry in the pub

the first new old donahues reading went well--found my sea legs by the end. . .read "she doesn't. . ." to a cell phone, which happened to be aubrey's voice mail. she called later, amused and maybe a little befuddled. . .the best rendition of that piece ever.

knee hurts, time to advil and elevate. . .

more later. . .

pm soundtrack: hank williams 24 greatest hits; lucero s/t; jesse malin the heat; elliot smith x/o; counting crows recovering the satelites

Bibi, Tennessee, and a splendid silhouette. . .

Maybe I should start worrying about where exactly I can hold the candle that I am burning at both ends, the middle, and some part that--OUCH, Shit! That's actually my right index finger. . .most of this playing with fire (insert Stones pun here) comes at the heals of not getting nowhere enough sleep. Working on two hours today TWO HOURS--120 minutes. If my sleep time was a movie, there would still be at least a whole f$#king hour left in Return of the King!

While talking to Mischelle (who sent me some poems-more on that in a minute), I think I have found the cause: I've been reading the poetry of Wallace Stevens before going to bed. Last night, at about four in the morning, I was laying spread eagle on my kitchen floor asking myself "What the f*^k is up with that jar?!" Call it Jungian, call it insomnia but I think Wallace has been a explicative earwig in my collective unconsciousness. Mischelle let me in on a dirty little secret--she got all twisted by figuring it out, too. My friend (and fellow GA) Donora conucrred. Bottom line: if sharp folk like them have problems with the poem, then I feel much better about it--thank god Bibi came down from Brooklyn with stacks of Chandler and Bukowski--I know where these cats are coming from!

Speaking of Mischelle, she sent me a poem with one of the hottest lines I have ever read:
"I want you raw and desperate and doe-eyed drunk."
Sweet Jesus! When do you want me is all I'm asking the poem! Out of context, the line takes on a wholly different meaning than within--in context, the line is self-reflexive: the narrator herself is raw and desperate and doe-eyed drunk but it's the challenge--so immediate and bellies a fire that doesn't burn candles as much as it incinerates city blocks. And then without the breath of a linebreak, the narrator reduces her would-be lover to cold reality--a come down indeed! But for what it's worth, if a girl ever dropped the gauntlet like that, I hope I could be cool enough not to blurt out "marry me." But I wouldn't be that cool, I would probably just turn to ash and cinder.

Bed! No Wallace Stevens, either damnit.

today's soundtrack: ryan adams gold; jesse malin the fine art of self destruction; ben fold 5 whatever and ever amen; george harrison all things must pass; rolling stones s/t; nina simone greatest hits; jeff buckley sketches for my sweetheart the drunk; weezer pinkerton; sonny rollins saxaphone collossus; replacements let it be; otis redding dictionary of soul; donny hathaway collection

mick taylor deserves more respect

Hi my name is Jim and I don't sleep. Alright, that's a misnomer--I do sleep, I just don't sleep well or long or regularly. Right now I am going through a phase of sleeping for two-two and a half hours and then waking up for a half hour just to repeat the process. It's almost enough sleep to be lulled into slumber but then I get all-Charlie Brown-trying-to-kick-a-football about it and wham, on my back and wide awake. (Lucy runs off laughing, a decent night's sleep tucked under her blue sleeve.) It does mean more time to read, write, and learn Dutch, but it also means my eyes burn and tear at odd times of the day--for example, a client's sister today asked me if I always get emotional when it comes to discussing seedless oranges. . .

Today I worked a 14 hour day:

9-12: Wilkes
12-7: being Mr. Autism Therapist
7-11.30: Wilkes (part 2, Electric Boogaloo)

I met one of the cleaning crew, nice guy--think I startled him a bit. . .

I began my poem cycle about autism (for real) today--I don't know how well it will fly, but I think it will be a good learning experience and pretty damn cathartic at the same time. I probably have more to say that sounds way more profound but right now my mind feels like butterscotch pudding. . .

more later?
I'm Ron Burgandy?

today's soundtrack: Rolling Stones London Singles Collection; Jesse Malin The Fine Art of Self Destruction; Elliot Smith x/o; Tom Waits Mule Variations; Snow Patrol final straw; Josh Rouse Under the Cold Blue Stars; Franz Ferdinand darts of pleasure EP; Ben Fold Five s/t; Tori Amos Crucify EP; A Tribe Called Quest The Low End Theory; Kanye West College Dropout; Elvis Costello Armed Forces; John Lennon Collection; Love Forever Changes; eels Beautiful Freak

if this is about you, sorry

Had a convesation with someone at work today, it went something like this:

co-worker: Hey do you watch One Tree Hill?

jim: no.

c.w.: Oh you should--it's an awesome show--

j: I don't have cable.

c.w.: You don't, what you have direct tv?

j: No. I don't have cable, and I don't really watch--

cw: You don't have cable? Wow, what do you do?

j: Read, write, listen to music.

cw: hmm

j: hack up neighbors, bury them in my cellar

cw:(playing with a pencil--totally oblivious)

cw: Oh, well anyway, One Tree Hill is on the WB so you can still watch it.

j: Oh.

cw: Yeah it's a great show.

Maybe it's because I said "hack up neighbors" so matter of factly, maybe she just waits for a pause in the conversation to continue with her small-talk. . . maybe she's just very open minded about today's serial-killer on the go, regardless this conversation is why I don't have cable. Yeah there are shows I'll watch (Jay and I watch House MD every week and I love Arrested Development and who doesn't love the Simpsons)and I do miss not having the history channel (nerd!) but reading, writing, music and dvd's seem to be more functional forms of entertainment--or how about talking to friends? Having conversations that have nothing to do with electronic transmission of language--you know face time, grabbing a coffee or a beer? And here I am venting on my blog--maybe I'll IM my coworker and she can email me a link to the One Tree Hill website:www.whogivesarat'sass.com.

And if you are reading this, sorry and nothing personal but I really don't watch tv--I got stuff to do.


today's soundtrack: green day american idiot; ryan adams demoliton; bob dylan nashville skyline; arcade fire funeral; gillian welch hell amongst the yearlings; jimmy eat world futures; sonic youth goo; tom waits bone machine; hank williams 24 greatest hits; razorlight up all night; rolling stones goats head soup

DeFord Bailey

He was the defining sound of southern harmonica playing for the better part of the early 20th century. He was a soloist on the Opery stage playing fifteen minute sets, unaccompanied. He was taken on tours to break country artists into mainstream acceptance. He is the only founding member of the Grand Ol' Opery who isn't in the country music hall of fame. He was removed from the stage at the height of his popularity, to spend 25 years shining shoes and playing harp on the streets of Nashville. He was the first black country star, and he was a casualty of his color. . .

I heard DeFord's music tonight for the first time--amazing. He was not the blues, he was the hillbilly sound that defined roots music as much as Bill Monroe, The Carter Family, Lefty Frizzell, or Hank Williams. Yet Nashville has turned their back on his legacy. If you get a chance, check out his documentary: A Legend Lost. It will give you some perspective, to say the least.


pm soundtrack: DeFord Bailey; tom waits real gone; iron & wine our endless numbered days; miles davis bitches brew


PS: Blogspot just changed their policy--now anyone can comment on a post, you don't have to be a member. . . so now you can really abuse me.

a bunch of savages in this town

somebody stole my f&!king garbage can!!!! where the hell am I?

Happy Valentines Day, asshole: enjoy the used trash can!


pm soundtrack: Green Day american idiot; Snow Patrol final straw; REM automatic for the people

digesting broken bottles

my stomach is killing me. i think it's. . .

a) the double bacon cheeseburger from A&W/KFC: always a horrific choice on a sunday night.

b)a stomach bug that seems to be going around at work

c)ulcer!

d)the fifteen pounds of raw cookie dough i ate on a bet today

e)tim mcgraw's performance at the Grammy's

Speaking of Grammy's it was nice to see Green Day drop the f-bomb and not change a word of "American Idiot." I don't care, I will mark out for Green Day--they feel like a band that;s grown up with me--they are the standard bearers of Joe Strumer's torch--a punk band that has trancended the genre. And if you are still one of those "punk purists" who talk smack on Green Day--f$%k off and take your Anti-Nowhere League records with you.

today's soundtrack: rolling stones aftermath; tom waits real gone; spiritualized ladies and gentlemen we are floating in space; massive attack protection; sunny day real estate s/t; arcade fire funeral; bright eyes digital ash in a digital urn; joss stone soul sessions; replacements don't tell a soul; elliot smith figure 8; libertines up the bracket; laura nyro new york tendaberry; van morrison st. dominic's preview

just some place we drown

another bullet fired into the heart of saturday night, saw a lot of lonely faces tonight, asking questions only bottles can answer. . .i was quiet, i learned to stop asking the hard questions if you really don't want to hear the answer. . .of course i have a headfull of answers, open honest and hurtfully realistic--not always good or wanted.

these are the words we chase, they thin the blood and leave you heady--then we act to poison ourselves, to dilute the message behind hang overs and the stagger stroll we take to the empty arms of home. . .

no more excuses, now the alcohol can be honest back-- no more hiding behind the label or the shot or the dizziness. . . this is what sobbering up brings. . .

somedays, when i sit at the end of the bar and watch people around me, i am sorry i left the party--now i'm just a guest, no longer a regular, no longer memorable, and no longer the you they called me.

night soundtrack: elliot smith xo; roxy music avalon; freedy johnston this perfect world; tom waits heartattack and vine; rolling stones let it bleed; stevie wonder talking book

the ocean doesn't want me today

i am sleeping in two hour shifts now. . .have been for the last week or so. . .just got off the phone with a friend of mine--it's amazing I also socialize in shifts--I have compartmentalized friends into day-eve-night-late night-beyond any reasonable hour. the unreasonable hour conversations are great--almost lucid too. . . back to sleep for two more hours. . . got writing @ 7:30 am. . .

more later

late night soundtrack: morphine the night; nick drake time of no reply; tom waits closing time; brad shame; luna penthouse

sweepin up after the party

sometimes i think that the thing i love most is absoluetly bad for me. . . like eating plutonium while chainsmoking uranium rods. . . blah. . . what will happen someday when i'm doing this for a living?



pm soundtrack: elliot smith figure 8

what is with fridays and bad news?

I just got off the phone with Jan Quackenbush--one of the professors for the Masters program (and who is putting together an amazing Vietnam doucmentary told from a unique perspective)and he told me Arthur Miller passed away last night. You can read about it here.

I just watched a program on A&E yesterday about the Peter Reily case in Connecticut--a 1973 case where Reily was convicted of murdering his mother but claimed he was coerced into the confession by the CT police. Through the help of his attorneys and his advocates Reily was granted a retrail that the state subsequently dropped (giving Reily his freedom). One of Reily's biggest advocates was Arthur Miller who's interview was used on the program.

A sad day for drama and literature indeed.

am soundtrack: whiskeytown pneumonia; beth orton trailer park; randy newman 12 songs; kings of leon youth and youngmanhood; singles motion picture soundtrack

spilt, spun, and sore

just tired.
okay just tired and sad.
actually, just tired, and not real sad.
maybe it's like a sort of sad but definately tired.
well the you see, the sad isn't really sad but the tired is definately tired.
in reality the sad is more of an empty but the tired is like needle on E
so the sad maybe more of an extension of a tired that has been legitized by lack of sleep.
bottom line: the sadness is a shadow casted on the long brick wall of tired (which I truly am).


i have no idea, either. . . i'm just going to bed

today's soundtrack: ben folds five s/t; jesse malin the fine art of self-destruction; bright eyes digtal ash in a digital urn; dinosaur jr where you been; scott walker boychild; josh rouse 1972; joni mitchell court and spark; arcade fire funeral; morphine cure for pain; toad the wet sprocket fear

"so what's to become of you my love?"

i feel like tim at this very moment. . .if you don't get the reference, you need to watch THE OFFICE.

sometimes i can't tell if it's the rain, the pipes or my neighbor's headboard. . .i hate insomnia. . .


late night soundtrack: Charlie Parker w/ Strings; Nick Drake Pink Moon