The Sock-Monkey As Alone

 OK so it is story time...not long stories just short and anecdotal.   I was playing an open mic night I was getting really into it. So I said, "alright, you assholes, this next song is called..." and then I was kicked off the stage and told not to come back. Some guy said as I walked away in shame. "is that it." I thought he was mocking me and said, "I guess so." I sat outside, trying to recover from the embarrassment, when the guy who kicked me off the stage walked up to me and said, "don't come back." I flipped him off and said, "look at that, that is for you." Here is the punchline. I was dumb enough to try again.   The next and last time I played an open mic night was four years ago. I borrowed a guitar and sat down to play my songs. But they didn't tighten the mic stand enough, so the whole set, every time I tried to strum, the mic would swing away out towards the audience. and come back and bounce off the guitar strin

Following the river of another thought spiral... The truth is that I haven't been well in a long while. As my fascination with the past is the illusion of a life without endings. So now I go there to pray, while there is a condescending voice. My stories are a commentary on cliches. But Anna lou gave a shit, and now she is dead. It's calm of the night and absence of a hope that is external. A series of ??? cut me down to the heart of pain. I am not in heaven, and I am afraid to be dead. Is it a poem if it reads like a blog post? We are organized to the music of ideas, not the rhythm of rhyme. The effect is a justification... But even then, it could use some brass and chrome to let the world know what it is missing. He made his name on nightmares...  

 1 The lights from overhead, shining downward. The tall grass in the field that surrounded them. He was there with his passport, and his eyes are glowing yellow. In contrast, her eyes were alive without there own light. They had been discussing what they were going to do, how they would approach this unknown corner of the zoo. "well, should we go to the city?" Said Teki. "I still think we should wait till tomorrow when we get the world trigger back." Said Sam. "Oh, come now, where is your courage! Or you're since of adventure? We have been here for days eating weird fruit in an escalatingly dull experience of cosmic tourism." Said Teki. "Well, I have the keys!" Said Sam. "That you do," Said Teki. They sit watching the distant city. It's towering sea shell-like buildings that were mostly white though they glittered in the light like a rainbow on their edges. "m-o-o-n! that spells boring." Said Teki. &q

  The sun is out, the way the world has all shown up for this day amazes me to my core. Blue skies, an old white church in the valley where my mamaw's parents raised her. People I have never met and a procession of the ones I know best. My sister, Kayla, helped my grandfather, and so did my brother piggy as he climbed the stairs. The stairs leading to the cemetery. Her casket is white with pink highlights, beneath an artificial cover that the old folks and her children sit under while I stand out in the sun. My brother Marcus is crying and sobbing brave tears that are like a marching drum to the procession of our hearts. We followed her this far, so why not go the rest of the way? I have not seen her in months, yet I know how she looked from a photograph of those who have. She was in bad health for a long while, and now she has left us for the sunless lands of shifting dunes and perpetual twilight. Some have told me she is nothing now, but she lives in our hearts at least, as lon