The Noise

22 Sep

st francis

Here I am in front of my house. Kevin’s in his kitchen. Windows always open. He thumps around. Clatters pots while screaming. You can ask him to stop making a specific noise at a specific time. But he doesn’t internalize the bigger concept. You shouldn’t do meth and play drums at 2AM. Crank your enormous top of the line subwoofer you bought the day after your new neighbor moved in, before sunrise. Judo throw your fat girlfriend, who screams from the diaphragm like a theater major, into load bearing studs and hollow core doors. Continue reading →

Drop the Rock

22 Sep

rock

Can’t meet a girl until I quit my job. Can’t quit my job until I have a hundred grand. Can’t get a hundred grand because I spend it on girls. I crashed my car. I crashed into the back of a Salvadoran couple who were clearly uninjured but the guy started holding his back with the subtlety of the evil priest in the telenovelas they play at the laundromat. Motherfucker. Now I’m getting called into work on a Sunday. Exactly like fucking Office Space. How did this happen. It’s always been like this. I listened to my AA sponsor. I was grateful to be of service and now I’m alone working my ass off with nothing for nothing and I’m horribly aware that my problems don’t exist and they’re all in my own head. I do have a hundred grand. Some of it’s a retirement account. I’d pay taxes if I withdrew it. So suddenly it doesn’t count. This time two years ago it was fifty grand to quit and it’ll just go up and up to whatever amount is close but not quite there. It was six months of cash then a year now two then two plus what if I get someone pregnant, like anyone’s keeping my fucking baby. Like I’d want them to at my Los Angeles public schools level of income. I need an abundance mentality. I could crash into a hundred Salvadorans and still be in the black. I could Farmers Market it through the Salvadoran Heritage Festival. A hundred kids with a hundred whores– what the fuck are they gonna do to me. Continue reading →

I’ll Never Meet My Future Wife

7 Sep

carly text

At the beach. Looking for the place I took Lilly. Where I carried her down the cliffs on our first date. She’d broken her leg eating it on a bicycle. Had a cast on. I helped her to her car after AA, where I’d stared at her two years. Lifted her crutches into the back of her Prius. Would you uh… do you want to uh… go to the beach with me this weekend and she said YEAH right away like she’d been waiting. After taking fastidious care to never look at me. Never sit near me. Only glance at me sideways, like someone told her I’d written about wanting to come back as a tapeworm and live in her asshole. I’m sorry but it’s true. Continue reading →

Lily

28 Jul

lilly 3

The beginning of love. When she’s gone I masturbate to POV porn of girls that look like her. Cum in me they say. Please sir get me pregnant daddy. Continue reading →

Yoga Pants Cashier

21 Jul

Would you like a receipt, said Stephanie, the southeast Asian cashier with purple hair and a surprisingly robust ass for her ethnicity. Or would you prefer to prematurely pump approximately a 55-gallon drum of your seed into my hot tight little pussy today sir.

The choice was clear. He’d read that receipt paper contained BPAs.

What You’re Up Against, Part 2

14 Jul

(Previously)

She had a Tumblr. A tech guy offered her $500 if she’d shit in a mason jar for a week, pour Jack Daniels in it, and mail it to him.

She didn’t know what to say. Asked a friend. The friend said make it $1,000. Charge him for the jar too.

To her credit, she didn’t do it.

But the next girl did.

The Sugar Daddy before Me

12 Jul

was always rich. Always married. Always kids. The wife successful too. Something cool. TV writer, Netflix, HBO. Loved his kids, showed pictures. They’re doing well in school. They’ll go to good colleges. He takes them diving. Trips at ten to places I still haven’t seen. He has what I pray for. The wife was beautiful but the girl’s 22 and she always, always broke it off because he said I’ll leave her please please move in with me.

Oh God I Was a Fucking Fool to Let Her Go

29 Jun

sunset may june

She texted me back. Didn’t want to go to work this morning. Wanted to spend those hours telling her: come back. I’ll quit. We’ll travel the world with the money left after bespoke surgery to graft your golden asshole to my mouth. Cut off my nuts for your coin purse. My cock for your toe ring. Come back to me come back to me. The phone dings and I jump for it like pushing my baby out from in front of a bus and it’s someone else. Continue reading →

What Should I Do About This Girl

8 Jun

rabbits

Let someone like you. Let yourself like someone. Let yourself like waking up next to her with your morning wood in her ass crack and the smell of the back of her neck and the mockingbirds going. The cool June gloom in the morning. Her hair’s messed up and she wraps around your arm like a baby. She doesn’t quite wake up but shifts a little. Takes a big breath. That’s what we’re here for. You don’t have to impress her. She doesn’t have to impress you. You don’t have to be with her forever. We’re all gonna die. Just be with her now. While whatever’s there is still there. Let yourself be happy. When it stops– if it’s tomorrow, if it’s death– you had it.

The Cat Food

8 Jun

tasty treasures

There’s a feral cat that comes around. He won’t let me pet him. I put out a bowl of water. He didn’t come. Decided I’d try food. Went to CVS. Found the cat food section and went to pick up the can. It was “Tasty Treats in Gravy.” Some kind I used to buy for Bud. And looking at it, feeling the can in my hand, it was like I was buying it for Bud again. Like I’d go home and Bud would be there. And I’d brush him, and then open up a can of Tasty Treats with Gravy and plop half of it into his bowl and he’d– he loved it, he just loved it. If you give him the whole can he’ll puke on the carpet later. Continue reading →

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