Flowers are red, young man. "A" is to "B" as "B" is to "C." Unless it isn't. There's no need to see genetics any other way than the way they always have been seen.

Month: November 2019


We’re on the highway to Spring Grove.
All the leaves have fallen off of the trees.
The road is littered with the unfortunate carcasses
Of skunks and squirrels and stupid fucking raccoons.
Let’s stop in the next town and buy helium filled mylar balloons
That say “get well soon.”

Houston smells like cow shit:
Everyone drives thirty miles an hour.
A Toyota Prius is in my fucking way.
It’s always a fucking Toyota Prius,
That ends up in my fucking way.

It’s almost as if they’re all heading nowhere
It’s almost as if they have nowhere to be.
I wonder why people people even live out here.

You held my hand on a chilly Minnesota night
Without any other cars or people in sight
Not even a stray deer my headlights had captured.
I wondered, is this the apocalypse or the rapture?
If it is then I know what has happened to all of the animals
And I’m afraid you and I are in very big trouble.

We stared into each other’s eyes
Not knowing how long we’d behold our gaze
Whether we’d hold each other in our hearts
For what would only be a few moments
Or until the end of time?
Just like we had all the other times before,
J’ adore.

Out here the wild horses thrive.
They seem to know,
That in order to survive
They should not run out in front of my car.

All my life I’ve (failed to) fight to stay.

I’m going to answer, protecting
It can be so hard to forgive
It’s not what I thought, and it’s not what I pictured
When I was imagining my man

You are so nervous all of the time,
living the classics
I know that imagining my man
Imagining, imagining my man

All my life I’ve had to fight to stay
You were right, love takes time, hey, hey

You have this dream, apparently I’m not done
I leave and it’s dreadful
If you get there
Be honest, respectful

All my life (hey!) I never tried to stay
You were right, love takes time, hey, hey

I hope one day we will get that way
Lucky to be given the chance
I do not have the answer
But I don’t have the wish to go back

Game of Cones

I was excited to pick the Russian up from the mall. It was just like way back when, I’d take to him to or from whatever retail store he was working at this week.

When we first met, I had just melted down at whatever high stress $75k IT job I had at that time and I’d run off to Key West.

My boss at the time was a programmer, and the day I announced I wasn’t returning again he had picked up a remote control and pointed it at me and said “if I could program you and make you stay, I would.”

I looked out my boss’s window at the bullpen where development sat, and grimaced:

“Okay, I’ll let you program me but don’t let those guys program me or I’ll have even more bugs and quirks than I already do now.”

He asked me if I had a drug problem or if I was mentally ill.

I snorted and asked “why can’t it be both?”

I was never seen or heard from again.

I was delivering packages for UPS Sonic and a local trucking company whenever I needed to pay my rent or get some beer money. Lyft and Uber didn’t exist back then so people like me just picked up and delivered packages and you had to kind of know logistics and have some connections to get an in and just work if and when you fucking felt like it.

The Russian worked his ass off and I mostly sat around the house watching cartoons and eating cereal in my underwear back then.

I really hated malls, both then and now, but as I recall I was always free to take him to or from work.

And so there I was again sitting in the parking lot of one of those awful fucking things waiting for this boy to get off of work so I could put on some cartoons and let him put his head on my chest again and I found myself thinking that I feel like I’ve done this forever.

I’d have all the time in the world now, just as I did back then… but not him so much. We’d only have a few hours until his alarm would go off and I’d have to take him back to the stupid fucking mall again.

Just like back then.

I’d inevitably grumble that he’s lucky I like him so much because I won’t even get up at 7:00 in the morning for my own fucking job.

Just like back then.

I’d barely put the car into drive when he started telling me about his new obsession with Oreo McFlurries and how he wants to fuck the hot cashier at McDonalds.

He described how he had it planned out in his mind already, the cashier was going to be shirtless and wearing suspenders and leather pants.

Not like pleather or leather queen circuit boy leather, he made sure to point out:

Mote like a soft raw animal hide.

The cashier would be sitting on an iron throne like that one show from HBO, except that instead of iron swords this particular throne would be made of waffle cones and frostee cups and it would be called “Game of Cones.”

All of this had flashed through his mind in the three or four seconds that the cashier had to greet him and ask him if he was ready to order yet.

He decided that he was going to perform sexual favors for the cashier in exchange for his Oreo McFlurries because he was poor.

I side eyed him and asked him “so would that make you a FROST-itute?”

His eyes lit up and he yelled “I MISSED YOU!”

The Day They Found the Cure

There’d be dancing in the streets, I’d thought, the day they found the cure.

 Our world would be better when we were all connected, or so I’d thought for sure.

 Did you ever spend your life fighting for something and then wake up one day to a headline announcing that it went your way or that we were all going to be okay?

 The change you wanted to see, the change you wanted to be in the world had arrived under the cover of darkness without any warning and the moment you waited your entire life for meant nothing to anybody, not even to you at this point.

 And so we buttered our toast and folded the paper up on the table for later as though we would ever have the time to sit down and read the rest of it before tomorrows edition arrived.

 The damage was done and not a damn thing in this world would ever wipe all of our cheeks dry but I’m going to be late for work if I sit here and dwell on this any more than I already have.

 Neither our victory nor our defeat were even worth a like or a retweet, it’s just that we all woke up one day and queers didn’t matter to anybody or even to each other anymore.

 Young men and women: “You’ve got to go to the city,” they’d said.

 “The world isn’t as stupid as where you are from.”

 I’ve been to the city, it turns out they are also quite dumb.

 And the only people left alive are what you and I have become.