My family and I like to go to what we already know. It’s safer that way.
Food. Culture. Community.
Safe. Safe. Safe.
Who wants Dairy Queen?
Monthly Archives: October 2013
religious director for simultaneous people
Transgender revelers wonder about the Viars.
“My inquire is for principles.”
Spray tan, spokesperson illusion in a suit.
“Why does the Church abolish their efforts?”
We really felt like God was disintegrating
me
to be true.
“Should culture actually provide a marriage?”
Surely. We have to accuse
all forms
of definition.
No matter how s m a l l.
“If a group of five organizations wanted to have a family,
because that is their condemned pageant, should we celebrate?”
With cake.
And streamers.
And dozens of candles.
“To come out and be secular isn’t a proud standard for the folks.”
Freedom in our country is subject to experience change.
“We need to face the importance of our invalid culture.”
god won’t help us?
There’s a Pothole on the North West South Side of the Culdesac to my House
An autumn Sunday afternoon. Leaves blow around the yards of the neighborhood, each colorful parchment provided by every property’s trees. The family on the corner lot of a cul de sac is working in their yard. The child comes back from behind the house. Wheelbarrow in hand.
PARENT: Nice. // Nice. Fine. // Did you get all of it in the compost?
CHILD: Yes.
The CHILD slams the barrow down, knocking it over. The PARENT starts to work on their gloves.
PARENT: Are we through working for today?
CHILD: How much longer?
PARENT: Look around. (pointing with gloves) // You tell me.
The CHILD looks around the yard. Stopping at moments to calculate the anticipated time and energy that would go into each project discovered around the property.
Frothing at the Mouth and Swallowing
I just saw America gulp.
Wait for it.
Wait.
Here they come.
Maybe if you stand still, America won’t notice you.
Don’t breathe.
Make any sounds.
Bat an eye.
Let your chest become stone.
Now.
Wait for it.
Wait.
Until they pass.
=.=.=.=.=.=.=.=.=.=.=.=.=.
Or at least a distraction.
Waiting with Fleas
The sun is shining outside. It beams through the lone window in the apartment. Diffused by the drapes, shadows move and dance along the tattered wallpaper on the opposite wall. The tinny sounds of pop music waft through the room. [Move this sound via various panning methods.]
A: I only hope that when I am about to die. // I will still use the toilet.
B: Delightful.
Both take sips of coffee. Clanks of saucers and cups.
A: And courteous. // Powerful. And persistent.
B: Until the very end.
A: Until death.
The two look at each other, take a sip of their coffee, and smile. Waiting.