Sleeping Beauty talked in her sleep


Young love is great,everyday is national lipstick day…

  And you get to wake up the woman of your dreams….

Before I make you sick from cliche’s I’ll change the subject. 

My other half talks in her sleep. She’s a deep sleeper. I would say it is because of night shift. But I knew her when we were teenagers. Young and unafraid. She slept the same back then.

“Back then” doesn’t seem that far. But we had flip phones,toms was just coming out, and kids born in 2000 couldn’t drive yet. So I guess it was maybe just a minute ago. 

She’s always said funny things awake…

“That is mahogany!”

“What’s up nerd”

“Being a reindeer is ok, excluding and bullying other reindeer because he has a shiny red nose is NOT ok.”

“Can you do it with no hands?”

“Cotton candy? Mhhmm where did you meet this stripper?”

“Whatever, I know about you and all your whores”

But asleep…

Or waking up…

She is just too much 

I tell her I have to go to work …

I kiss her 

And she looks at me 

And says 

“No no they’re all dead.”

“She needs to get a home kit, then she can de-lice at home like everybody else.”

And then there was that one time 

I woke her up 

And she struck me 

And said 

“Don’t touch me.”

But she denies that ever happened.

I stand on the fact that I was awake 

And she was asleep ….

But like Atwood said…

in the end

We all become stories.

So just remember 

The next time you’re watching or reading fairy tales…

All was not quiet while the castle slept…

Sleeping Beauty was most likely talking in her sleep. . .



“I saw you at the concert last night. Didn’t I?.” She asked. pulling a chair up and sitting down. Michael intentionally looked at his stack of books ignoring the blonde sitting down in front of him.The blonde-pulling her hair up. Damn. It really is the little things. 

 You’ve got this,you’ve seen a lot of John Hughes films. He thought to himself.  “Yeah.” 

See it’s not that hard, you have established communication. You’re probably on the same wave link. He was trying to stay calm. She probably would rather join a group of sky diving nuns than  finish this conversation. Heck. I’d kinda like to see that actually, If this doesn’t go my way quick, maybe she will let me watch. 

He wasn’t doing so good on the calm.

“So,my name is Rachael. Why haven’t I seen you in class? ” she asked. While picking up a book. ” ‘The age of  truth and spirituality.’ That sounds really deep. Or maybe just shallow and muddy. What class is this anyway?” She laughed. Michael choked.  “Oh no… I’m not in classes. It’s not a class. I’m just rooming here…to write. I’m just checking the book out.” He was trying. “Just checking it out, For yourself?” She wasn’t laughing. “Yeah the other night I dreamed I was possessed by satan. So I thought I’d better look into it.” She was grinning. 

Good job.She is still here. She hasn’t left. She could have left,hell, She still can.But she hasn’t. 

“And did it help?” She crossed her arms. 

Michael counted three planet tattoos across the back of her arm. Along with a few scars. “Not really. Or not yet.But I haven’t gotten very far either.” He said. “So you could still be possessed? I should probably leave then? Cause I definitely didn’t make room in my schedule for exorcisms.”  

I raise your sarcasm with dark humor. 

“No you’re good now. I dreamed I was talking to my dead friend last night. So you’re good. He just committed suicide…so it’s totally safe. Any damage I may do will probably be self inflicted.” She just stared at him.Blankly. Rubbing her scars. 

 What were we going for? Dark humor…suicide…never involved with dark humor …unless you’re attempting to jump from a window and its barred shut…fix this.. 

But don’t worry, I’m totally fine…I’m a lazy person …I tried… I did…I  was going to jump from a window but then I ate some bad tuna…so I called poison control…got stuck with that for two hours.” she laughed.

  Good job…god she has beautiful eyes. 

“You were going to commit suicide but then you poisoned yourself and didn’t want to die?”

“Oh no. Not like that. I’m going out my way. Not because some fish got pissed off for being stuffed in a can and decided to go bad.”

 Rachael leaned forward.

” But you’re going to be here for a while?”

“Well, yeah. Atleast  a weekend.”

“Good.of course. I’m not really here.” 

“Mmmhhm. Right. You can come by tomorrow. I’ll be writing then.”

“Then maybe I’ll stop by after class. My aunt runs the place.” She got up.

“Oh I look forward to it.” 

Room 222

I’ve always been a fool
For film
old records
New art
Old books
And hard sole shoes
For paper
Bound in leather
And ink
And cameras
I liked ghosts
I liked empty buildings
Maybe that’s why I
Went to the hotel
On Manchester avenue
Maybe that’s how
I came to be famous
But I still feel bad about it
I feel as though I stole something

You see
It was between 1 and 3 am
That’s when all writers write
Anything worth writing
And fear forgetting
And that’s when
Any good ghosts
Go ghosting

I heard a woman singing
In the hall
So I went to check it out
When I looked
I just caught the glimpse of a dress
Around the corner
So I followed

Only to catch a door as it closed
In room 222
My heart in my throat
I entered
To find
And papers
And art
And film
This room
At the end of the hall
With a woman in white
And steel blue eyes
Singing her song quietly

I asked her what it was
When she handed me a journal
I opened it
To find
A short story
I had planned on writing
For my 18th birthday
But quickly forgot …
I looked up at her
Her eyes quietly speaking

This room
Was where
All our ideas
The ones we lose
The ones we burn
Worn and burned
Lost and forgotten
They were agony
They were art
So I stole them
I published them
And I made my fortune
For every success
Part of me became this place
I couldn’t leave it
I couldn’t make art
Outside of this room
Eventually in time
I became just as much
Of it
As the woman in white
Walking the halls
Or the lampshade on the night stand
The key in the door
I’ve forgotten how
Introductions go…
I’m only thinking of
Endings …
Hung up
Within in-betweens
Like the vortex
Of 1 and 3 am
That’s what I am….


part one of three

Photo origin
giorgia napoletano

I walked through
lights strung up
And pink balloons
The party long over
I knew Ellen would be outside
She loved lights
Then I saw her
Coloring in her Frozen
coloring book

“Hey there, kid
what are you coloring?”

She looked at me and shook her head
“If you don’t know
Then I can’t tell you”

Hey i like your balloons and lights out here
Pretty cool party …
Happy birthday,by the way
I’m sorry mom couldn’t be here”

She didn’t miss a beat
Of coloring
And writing
Lines with an ink
Pen into the pictures
“I don’t like pink
And I’m 11
You can stop calling me
‘Kid’ now” She doesn’t talk to anyone
Not anymore
So it’s hard to miss her
You know?
you should have a dog
Since you moved
I bet you could get one
A big golden retriever”

I laughed and shook my head
Sitting down beside her in the grass
“Nah what would I do with a dog?
Besides I need a cat
They’re smaller
And have personality”

She glared at me
“You’re the dumbest..
I bet a girl made you
Like cats too
Didn’t you learn anything at college?”

She started coloring again
“I think mom is having an affair
She’s real happy after we all go to bed
Talking on the phone
And going on the computer…
She’s hysterical
Like the girls at school.”

I was shocked
How much she could pick up on

I tried to be sarcastic
But this was exactly why I came home
Dad had called last Friday
And asked me to for a weekend
“Just a weekend”
he’d said “to feel things out…I’m worried”

When I went back inside
I found mom fixing a plate
“Hey when did you get back?”
I asked

She looked tired
And older
“Just got in dear,I’m going to go lie down for a while.It was a long flight.”
She stopped and gave me a warm hug
“I’m glad you’re here,it’s good for Ellen.I don’t think she has many friends at her new school.”

I tried to smile
“I like the new house mom…I’ll talk to you in the morning.”

She waved her hand walking up the stairs …”ok dear”

John mark

My name is John Mark
I’m 10
But that’s not important
What’s important
Is the fact that I hate breakfast
I’m almost certain breakfast
Started from prison
The getting up early

Who needs that kind of stress
In their day
Especially if it’s summer
But whatever
My parents say it’s important
To eat so I “grow strong ”
I defy them on this subtle conditioning
Why grow strong?
So I can join the slave machine of corporate America and capitalism,
No thanks.
Mom usually gives me the stare when I say this
But since I have to meet Dillon
At the phone booth today
I guess I should eat my waffles

This is where things got weird
Because these were a Belgium recipe
And I think they must use some special ingredient
Because as soon as I ate my waffles
I felt different
Started thinking in french
Like,I grabbed a napkin and wrote
In french….

When I finally met up with Dillon
He had a Dutch candy bar in his backpack and I decided I would test my theory out
And after eating it
I could speak Dutch
Man,this was way weird.

But boy
Just think what I could do with this.



I don’t want to live vicariously
I want to engage
I feel like in some areas
I’m an adult
And others
I don’t even know…
We are in our twenties
And we feel infinite
But I somehow feel the brevity
Of everything
Like when you run your hand across something old and you feel it’s ghosts
it’s a feeling …

It’s that space between what you see
And what you hear
The image that flashes across your mind
Between a touch
I don’t know what’s going on
But I feel …
A shift
Like I’m on the brink
And I don’t know what lies beneath

It’s that quiet solitude,fully submerged under water,that first breath,first blurred light when you break the surface…
It’s that rare
When you lose yourself
And it scares you
Because you see yourself
As yourself

We decide what we become
And we decide what we become
So I choose
Because so often
Life is not what could be
It’s just what is…
And dreams are not dreams
They are often nightmares
And the real work hasn’t
Even begun
It’s hospitals
It’s funerals
It’s letting love in
And letting love go
Understanding that love dies
Not quickly
But a struggle
grappling it’s final breath
And even still
After this hell
Your heart
Will resurrect itself

I feel
time is moving
And we can be anything
But not everything
And I’m
Caught between
The price for the decisions
we are making
And the fact
we should also be hurtling off cliffs
Into the abyss of the unknown
Taking chances
Living for the present
Because this is all we have

I wonder what we will be
5 years
Even 2 years from now?
Will there be an empty room
With an empty book
For the words we never said?
Who will be reading
the letters I leave between the pages
I couldn’t help writing but could never send…

Understand it’s here,it’s happening
It’s now
It’s our future, our past
all tied together
In these decisions we’re making
(Sometimes hastily)
I hope we make it.
I have to believe we make it

I don’t have a five year plan
I don’t do that
But I hope
That one day I can type a letter
From Africa or New York
describing it to you in detail
And it will be read by a friend
I hope that I can close it by wishing
With hope that you made it
You got to your shore
That place that drives you
I hope this
Because I hope we all win
I hope we all defeat our demons
I personally hope
We continue shedding our old selves
That we can look back
At some point in our uncertain future and understand
Like Eve said in the film
Only Lovers Left Alive;
“Life is about appreciating nature, surviving things, nurturing friendships, kindness and dancing”

I want to know
Really know
For my children
For my future self
la joie de vivre

I want to be more than just a millennial and less than zero

A Halloween tale just for you 1

Day 15

A virus of some-kind, chemical – I don’t’s taken everything. Alzheimer’s  ..we tried to fight it. But it had the military had the highly intelligent  first.  The body breaks down due to chemical exposure quickly , especially if it is unhealthy.

but the military one can outrun ..out’s like a mental switch tripped and every one has received an order to kill everything and anything.

day 43

they kill each other even as they kill us.. good god. what have we done.

day 44

trying to document something – anything – to leave a trail . hoping to find clarity. I don’t know.

..The virus came….we’ve locked ourselves up inside the city.we have food , we have water, we have a means to survive . But we didn’t count on the animal instinct of a human…. there was no plan for this.they come and they go…some die within a few days overcome by the virus itself. But later more infected will resurface. Our only real enemy is man himself. those trying to survive out there. we were not prepared for this.

day  ??

I’m alone now..the others ..couldn’t stay..chose to leave…..there are worse things than death. worse than’s being lonely. locked inside this room. with  a means of survival ..but for what cause?.there’s a whole world out there..a whole damned empty world..but the chemical or’s out will return somewhere ..and we have no cure.