steak sizzles on the grill
spitting out aromas
that the dog
pants heavily
for

like a baby
crying for the tit
of its mother

salt is slowly
dashed on to the soaking
cob of corn

lightly but poignantly

as the dog
grows more and
more impatient
at the pace from
which he is
being tortured

the sun stares down
on the ants inhabiting
the land

as they gather
for a summer dinner

(Song is “Till the Sun Turns Black by Ray LaMontange)

I used to be terrified of storms. Probably got that from my mom. When we were younger, and lived in Prescott, Michigan we had no basement to speak of. We lived in a tiny trailer with three bedrooms, a bathroom, a dining room and a living room.

Oh, yeah, and a kitchen.

We had a pig in the yard. It held the gas that provided us the fire to cook the food that dad brought home. It was also the catcher to my day dreaming of one day being a professional baseball player. I’d spend hours a day throwing at it. Bouncing baseballs, tennis balls, any type of ball I could toss at it.

Yeah, I used to be afraid of the storms. Mom would pace around the house, peeking out the windows. I think we would sit in the hallway if it got real bad.

We were basically just waiting to die.

I’m not scared of the storms any longer. I’ve come to accept my mortality in these times. It’s nice to be at peace with it. I’d hate to be afraid to die in this day and age. I mean … watch the world news for 10 minutes. It’s bleak man.

Oil spills.
Cancer.
Aids.
Gangs.
Wars.
Cars that don’t stop when you tell them to stop.
Etc.

No, i’m not afraid of storms anymore. I’m not afraid of dying either.
But I’m terrified of not living.

And this is just another day.
Just like the other day.
And the day before that.

But today is still a different day. Today is a day that we’ll wish my Father a happy birthday. A day John will help Ann get through the sudden death of her mother. A day The Carter’s Saviour another few hours of time with their departing flock of Chestnut-sided Warbler’s, a day we will look back on in 3,650 days and chuckle, “has it been 10 years already”.

A continuous dance till the day we don’t dance any longer. It’s as if, as the years go buy, tomorrow becomes more like suddenly then yesterday.

This suddenly sneaks up on you fast.

A million celebrations fortify our very beings. We laugh and we cry at these special moments – birthdays, weddings, newborn babies. They justify the hardships that we will no doubt experience in our life times.

In fact, we will suffer more heartache and pain then we will joy. But it’s how we deal with the heartache that separates each of us. Some will sulk in self pity. Some will dust themselves off and ride on too the next heartache.

Life is a long good bye in many ways. But as I sat here this morning … going over the last 24 hours as I do … many think I just sit around and watch Youtube videos, drink beer and eat pizza (which, that does take up a lot of my time) I do in fact gravitate to deep thought from time to time.

And this morning I asked myself: If I could do it over, would I?

And that very question stalked me for a few hours. Every time I stopped working, I drifted off to that question. When I’m on my death bed – in the moments before I close my eyes that last time – if given the chance, would I say “can i do it over,” …

And the answer is no.

I’ve had so many great moments. So many horrible moments. So many bored moments. As you all have, as well. And when I really thought about it, the reason I would say no thanks – I don’t want to betray the times I’ve had by taking a chance to go back and do them again. Who’s to say it’d be the same.

So here I say, lets’ celebrate the day. To my Father, to Ann’s Mother, to your son or your daughter. To each and everyone of my friends and family members. We could sit hear and cry about the past, the present and the future – but it doesn’t matter.

i walked it the other day
noticed ants crawling
in and out of those
cracks

trying to find some comfort
inside the dark cavernous
crack in the sidewalk

the heat is unbearable,
yesterday
today
and probably tomorrow
as well

unbearable
like hell
so hot
there is no smell

just ants marching

into the cracks
that are getting larger
on the sidewalk
in front
of your house

from the chair i sit
perched atop my
all knowing self
seeing

that i seek knowledge
only time can teach
and that
is where
i find

my humility

tranquility you holler
tranquility be bothered
in this state of absolute
chaos

ah, but it’s chaos where i
find my isolation
and it is there, that i find
my freedom

in the chaos
in the chaos
to my humility

I could hear the diesel engine of my Dad’s truck as it turned down the Decatur road we live on, and my best friend Bear stopped sniffing the air and made his way to the gate. Dad was home, and we all know what that means:

Bear was getting his sammich!

Dad always leaves him half a sandwich as a prize. A prize for what, you ask? I’m not sure, but it’s been a tradition in the house for the past seven years, and I’m not going to be the one to ask why! It’s just part of the community here at DuBayVille.

One I’ll miss when he or I or him or all of us is gone.

So we made our retreat to the house, where Bear sat on the lived in, trampled on, carpet in the living room. Perched on his big fat legs, he panted and panted … but waited patiently as Dad went through the routine. It was his sandwich, sure … but, he wasn’t going to get it just like that.

“I love you,” Bear barked, clear as day.
“What’s that, buddy”, Dad responded.
“I love you,” Bear said again.

Dad leaned over, held his hand out. “Shake, boy” and Bear put his right paw on Dad’s left hand. Dad switched hands, Bear switched paws. They did this for fourteen rotations, until Bear barked. Not “I love you”, this time.

No, I won’t type what he barked. Potty mouth.

And he got his sandwich.

Then Dad turned to me and asked “Do we need beer”.

“I love you,” I said.

He didn’t get the joke. So I said yes.

We drove down to the store where I purchased an 18 pack of Miller Lite and a bag of dog treats. These vortex bottles Miller Lite has come out with … genius. As we were about to pull out of the gas station, I noticed a little boy playing close to the street.

He was in a world of his own – you know, the world of an innocent little child, not held hostage by bad decisions. Well, I wanted that world to continue for him. I didn’t want his innocence to be destroyed on that street by some idiot on a cell phone planning their big night out.

So I told Dad to stop for a sec. I rolled my window down and said, “Hey little guy, why don’t you move up into your yard little guy. Don’t want you to get hurt.”

He looked up at me. Didn’t say anything. Moved back from the road. Didn’t say anything. So i started to roll my window up. That’s when he said something. But I couldn’t understand what He said. Probably thanking me, I’m sure.

So I rolled my window down, to get my thank you.

“What’s that little guy?”

“Weave me awone”.

Well, at least his parents taught him not to talk to strangers.

K.C -

In 1988 she starred with Haim and Feldman in a little movie called “License to Drive”.

Two years later, she was in a movie called “I love You to Death”.

In that movie? River Phoenix.

In 1993, the lovely Graham played “Cowgirl Heather” in the movie “Even Cowgirls get the Blues”. Pat “Mr. Miyagi” Morita was in that flick. He died in 2005. This is a push – but what is interesting is Rain Phoenix was also in this movie.

Which also explains why Joaquin Phoenix is a douche.

Also in 1993, Graham had a cameo in “Six Degrees of Seperation”, which makes me think of the whole “Six degrees of Kevin Bacon” … why you ask? because I love Bacon.

Plus Will Smith was in the movie, and his son is in the new Karate Kid movie – Which brings back Pat Morita.

In 1995 I graduated from Bullock Creek High School. Strange? NO, lots of kids graduate from there. However, A film called “Let it Be Me” was released. It was a musical. Graham had another little part in this. Who else? Patrick Stewart.

He was apparently blinded during the filming. Possibly from her beauty. Or her forehead. We aren’t sure. If you don’t remember him, watch Star Trek: The Next Generation.

She went on to play Lorraine, in “Swingers” with Ron Livingston. Livingston is most famous for his role as Peter Gibbons, in “Office Space”. In that film, the lovable Milton Waddams barely escaped death from a fire set bye Gibbons and his friends.

So, your probably thinking “What is this all about”.

Simple.

One of her first roles in show biz …. “Growing Pains”. Heather Graham must be captured and brought to me. So .. you know .. all these deaths can stop …. no other … no other reason. It has nothing to do with a …er, “Boner”.

Good night, and thank you for reading.

at unrequited love,
what would be the title
of the ad i’d
place in the
last chance
romance
press

i scratched my head for a second,
thinking something witty would
be the way to catch this
kitty that’s escaped my
bruised paws

but really there is no perfect line
to write, we’re more complicated
than a mad lib
game

what with all the mad libs
running around the globe,
protecting us from free
form feelings

how can i love if
i can’t feel hurt
if i can’t
see blood
on my hands
at night
from the

relationships i strangle
to death within my
own self pity

it was then that i noticed the passerby
had went and passed me by

and that’s when i etched into the fresh cement:

“Seeking she, too listen to the sounds, with.”

What is the purpose of your life?

And I sat through lunch and most of the rest of the day pondering that very question as my soul was raked over hot coals in a job that I don’t want, can’t stand, and need a break from. What is my purpose in this world, of this life?

And I came to the conclusion that it’s unfair to ask such a question. No one knows the absolute answer – and I deal in absolute. I don’t deal in destiny, or what ifs. My “purpose” in life can’t be defined in any one answer.

My purpose is not to be a brother, a father, a son, a lover, a friend, a soldier, a politician, a doctor, a lawyer, etc. These things are not purposes – they are privileges, they are choices, they are actions of living.

My “purpose” changes like the sand of time, like the sun setting and rising again. My “purpose” is to live, to survive, to sustain, to grow. We’re just plants, passing by. Feeding off of one another – growing with each other.

Growth is our purpose. Adapting and changing and learning from our past mistakes and making new mistakes and moving from them.

But mainly, my purpose is to figure out a way to pass the day. From one day to the next. I wish the people that lead us would do the same.