“not again.”
max sits on the couch, a news bulletin has interrupted his basketball game.
his roommate looks up from facebook.
“what is it?”
“another guy killing defenseless people.”
monday song #57: cattle
think of the millions of cars on this planet.
the millions driving around. the millions rusting in wrecking yards and standing on blocks. the millions that exist only in the memory of humans long dead.
so many goddamn cars. why would he ever think he could possibly make it to work on time?
monday song #56: another log in the fire
another unfamiliar bed. although this one is oddly familiar.
she stares at the institutional acoustic paneling on the ceiling, looking for patterns in the tiny holes, stringing together constellations, waiting for the transition between one unreality and another.
monday cover #2: the band: the moon struck one
the credits run out and the lights come up. everyone else has left the theater, but they’re still not ready to return to reality.
Continue reading “monday cover #2: the band: the moon struck one”
monday song #55: me …and my dog
he’s hungover.
he stares in the mirror. his face is fleshy, somehow misshapen, as if viewed through a wide angle lens.
he swallows a handful of aspirin and starts the shower. hot water only.
monday song #54: cry
she turns off her phone after the third call in an hour.
she smiles at her date. she has to say something.
“my sister wants to know how it’s going.”
she’s certain her smile isn’t coming off correctly, that he picks up some sign of discomfort.
she adds, “it’s been a while since i went out with someone new.”
monday song #53: close-up
william holden is face down in the swimming pool.
the police arrive followed by the press.
flashbulbs pop. questions go unanswered.
gloria swanson creeps down the stairs. an elderly spider, patient, arms held at unnatural angles, ready to dance or cast a spell. her head tilts off center; her once lovely face pulled tight by a humming tension. her moment, her final scene, the climax.
monday song #52: being with you
when his mother told him a month ago that they were moving to south carolina he was pissed off. beyond pissed off.
“next year is senior year! are you kidding me?!”
his mother’s tears killed his protest in an instant.
he had never seen his mother cry before.
monday song #51: woe woe (christmas cheer)
lyrics
the kids screamed that they weren’t tired.
he suppressed the flashing urge to drown them in the bathtub, and held on to more modern child-rearing principles.
a child at the end of a day of presents, new toys, and two dozen candy canes is little more than a wild animal. sleep will return the beasts to their normal rosy-cheeked selves. at least until they start the fight over watching morning cartoons and why can’t they kick a soccer ball in the kitchen.
Continue reading “monday song #51: woe woe (christmas cheer)”
monday song #50: love song
mr. luchesi starts from a shallow sleep.
the alarm clock says 3:34 am. that makes two-and-a-half hours sleep he’s managed since crawling into bed at 9:30, out of ideas, resenting his wife for making him put the kids to bed a third night in a row.
she sleeps soundly beside him. she must have arrived in bed sometime between 11:30 and 12:45, his longest successful streak of unconsciousness tonight.