Bullet

Hard sole against the rail
The night air cold through the trees
Smokers in the back ground
Laughing
In the park sharing drinks

The train, a black mass of heated machinery closes in
And I think …
‘Hail satan
It’s the closest thing to a god
Man has probably ever made’
And step out

I feel the air move against me
As time slows against the racing of my heart

I don’t see hippy holes
Or Friday night lights
I don’t have any regrets

I see
What I’ve always seen
What I couldn’t escape
I see
49 acres of woods
That I ran through growing up

I see a peach hanging perfectly
In an orchard somewhere in Georgia

I see the shores of Normandy
I see presidents dying
I see a race to the moon

I see a hospital
With a patient screaming
a family crying outside my door
I hear a man coughing
His bed banging against the wall
His lungs fighting against the fluid

I see a bridge
A book
And water

I hear
a train moving
I see blackness
I feel cold

Highway 11 (Annabel-dreams)

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You know the feeling you get,when you’re driving late at night….and you think you see a figure
Standing on the side of the road…
It’s usually to the side of a road sign
Or just underneath it…

What if you continue to see it
What if it stays when you look again
What if you could hear it scream.

What about the feeling you get just after that…
The one where you feel like
There’s a body in the car with you
Emanating heat…
It’s just a shadow …
A presence …
Your hands grip the wheel
You look to the passenger seat…

They say, her name is Annabel
Annabel-Dreams
She appears to motorists
On the side of the road
Only at night
Midday if it’s raining
Or overcast
If you hear her scream
just as you’re shoulder to shoulder with her -
Her jaw dropping wide -
High pitched – screeching…
You feel it moving through time and space
More than hearing it..
You’ll never mention it to anyone.
And her eyes….
cold,solid white…
Sometimes black….

She was a student at the local
Community college
Dating a media journalist from outside of town.
Manic depressive
Very anxious
Family issues
Her mother left
Just after her father
Gifted her with a house

Annabel disappeared
On valentines day
Then
Exactly 9 months later
The
Haunting of highway 11 began
It’s said
Her boyfriend
Angry,after another
Very common fight
drug her
To her mothers house -
That house she hated
Chaining her to the porch
During a storm
He left her there
Screaming into an anxiety meltdown
In the dark
With the abandoned house
Of every bad memory
And demon she feared
And hated

Now
she walks the highway at night
You See her in your headlights
And even hear her screaming ..
You’ll tighten your grip
Feeling a presence
Look to the passenger seat
A pitch black presence beside you
As your stomach lurches

You’ll carry her home
She’s very patient
Until the night
When you hear her
In your halls
Pacing
Step by step
The floor protesting
Her presence
Outside your bedroom door
She’s there with you.
Maybe you make it home…

The Trinity Of Cool

I was talking with a Writer friend
And mentioned William Shatner
When she said “hey my grandparents” or something like that “live beside him !”
Now let me elaborate what this means to me ….
Because I said
you lie!
But thought
my god how do I get there!
You see you need to understand
Something
William Shatner
is like up there with Ronald Reagan and Han Solo
Same bar
same-bar

They are
the trinity of cool
Were I living beside William Shatner
I can guarantee you only
Two scenarios
The first: I would be the crazy obsessed neighbour of your nightmares
The second: I just stand there staring into your yard in disbelief ….
There is NO THIRD scenario
Only these

I can’t explain why these are the trinity
They just are
If you don’t know
Well,obviously you’re a moron
It’s Han Solo
Ronald Reagan
And
William Shatner

It’s weird I get that
Like
When I reference
Nora Ephron
Or my obsession
With playing cards
And let’s be clear
I don’t play cards
I just have an obsession with cards
Like,I buy playing cards
And it’s weird I know
Because let’s be honest
Being a dude
I should know NOTHING about
Nora Ephron
And I should be playing cards
But
Here we are
She’s a badass feminest
Screenplay,writer
Who’s essays split your gut with humor and leave you with her favourite recipe.
Like she doesn’t just talk about it
She actually gives it to you.

Cards look cool but give you a migraine
Which is unfortunate for me as a standard
Because I would seem like
The kind of guy you’d get a really cool recipe from
But no
If you stay at my place
It’s gonna be like
“Well,I hope you like toast and water”

And that’s the trinity
I can explain it about as well
As I can explain my childhood
Which means I throw stones of humour at it frequently
As if to make sense of it.

Into oblivion

Some teenagers asked
Me what you were like today…
they are too young
They don’t remember a world
Before this
It shocked me
And then I realized how many years have passed …
And so here I am
An adult now
Finally ready
I can tell my story

9/11
You were the day
September
Became more than
Just a birthday
I looked at the sky
With fear
The world as I knew it….
changed
the day
A city called New York
Felt like it was
Somehow
In my back yard
And I memorized it’s skyline
It’s buildings
It’s streets

the month,no.
The year
I had nightmares
Of paper towns
And iron cities
With white washed faces….
You were the year
I memorized the quote
On the Statue of Liberty
And
“Conspiracy theories”
Had faces and definitions
I will never see
“the potato chip”
The same

you became
The second date I
Mark on the calendar
Next to my birthday
And every Year
I grow heavy
I sleep less
I see shadows of people
And hear veterans crying

It’s difficult
For me
To remember
Anything else
All I know
Is what you gave us

But
I remember When – everything
All the paths
plans
roads
skies
seas
The past and
The present
Under
The shadow of planes
With the echo
Of collapsing …
Changed.

With faces hollowed out
Wearing our city
We rose
Forever changed
I remember
That.
Forever.

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Reagan’s Category

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This is Reagan
Many of you know
Reagan.He’s my brother.
If you don’t know Reagan
Look under my autism category.
In which case -voila-what an introduction.
He’s reading now,and quite – well if I do say so myself.
Therefore, I have had an idea!
Because I was surrounded by small children all day,
And I was looking at children’s books
The other day at the library
(They’re just so awesome)
I
Shall
Write
1 story a week
For Reagan
Which shall be FILED
Under his new category
I just made and I can’t remember
What it’s called,but it has his name on it!.
So you will know it.
This category
Will feature
All of Reagan’s favorite things
Short stories
About
Breakfast
Zombies
Batman
Monsters
Spiders
Robots
Space
Ghosts
Dying
Blood
Baths
And
The absolute
Red handed
Worst thing next to
Communism
Bed-time.

Once a week!
Good day.

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kleinod

When I heard about you
Well,that’s not exactly accurate
I read about you
But anyway
It was surreal
I remember thinking,
‘How can words become endangered?’
How can they become extinct?
And this really scared me
Because we put things in boxes
Store them away
With good intentions to use them
‘Just as soon as something comes along in need or use of it.’

But what if we forget
What if nothing ever touches the box
What if it slips away?

What happens to your stories,
Your dragons,
Your boldness.

What if we do the same
To people?

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“Due to this dwindling usage, in 2007 “Kleinod” was crowned “the most beautiful endangered German word”