Friday, May 29, 2009


Celine Dion does a song - I don't know the name - but you've heard it.

It's the one from that iceberg movie with Kate Winslet and Leonardo DiCaprio?


At work yesterday, the song came on and Sully, my bald-headed co-worker, started doing a bird-like little dance.

"Sully?" I asked, with eyebrow arched.

Whereupon, he shuffled over from across the room and in Yoda-like voice, decreed:


Then, abruptly shuffling back, he stopped and in the same voice, announced:


And walked out.*

*Turns out the song reminded him of an old Sesame Street skit, "near and far."

Wednesday, May 27, 2009

Weekend Update

It's nearly 3 p.m. on the Saturday of a long weekend and I am sitting at the computer in my underwear and socks, hair plastered to the side of my head, typing this missive.

The socks are what we used to refer to as "queer socks" in my youth. Maybe you know them as tennis socks. They are white and short - so short as to be nearly invisible when worn with shoes - and unlike tube socks, they don't have to be constantly pulled up.

M is at class right now and, far from killing time, I am regaling in solitude.

That and Captain & Cokes.

Monday, May 25, 2009

Salad Days

I had the worst ass-f#ck of a week at work, last week, and while you could say I'm lucky to have a job, I might debate the point.

Maybe I'm not cut out for customer service, maybe it's a sign of the times, or maybe it's just cognitive dissonance.

I think I'm asking "may I help you?" but what apparently comes out is "please come over here and disabuse me, you witless a-hole."

Gone are the days when the actions of an a-hole were swiftly rewarded with a punch in the face.

Now, that same behavior is rewarded - with an ass kissing rather than an ass kicking - and I am one of the lucky ones who get to pucker up.

You want fries with that?


How about a tossed salad?

Saturday, May 02, 2009

Animal Dreams

Part 1

Fell asleep
in my clothes
last night;

woke at 2
- like a netted fish,
grasping for something -

and ripped
my twisted garb
plunging back
into sleep
and dreams:

Part 2
On wings
of wax and cellophane
through sun's red rays

I rise,
a backlit monarch
glowing fiery tangerine,

I rise
and melt
in Sol's embrace

then fall
like rain


and grease.