Thursday, April 28, 2011

Thou canst tell why one's nose stands i' the middle on's face?

So I went down to my local Barnes and Noble BOOKSELLERS to do a little browsing. I meandered over to the fiction section and made my selection, Jonathan Franzen's latest. I was about to just walk out the door without paying when I felt a strong hand on my shoulder.

It was the hand of Toby Keith.

Toby Keith, clear as day. Toby Keith, wearing a Barnes and Noble-branded cowboy hat, was standing right behind me. He pointed to the near end of the store.

His voice rang out clear and true: Cash register's that way, old hoss. Best pay up. And always remember,

Freedom isn't free

Tuesday, April 26, 2011

Very important One-sentence post

Read this, if you would, since JD wrote it, and it's one of the most important things you'll read all day, and you ought to thank me for recommending it at all, for even deigning to come down off my high horse and offer you a link to someone else's blog post.

Saturday, April 16, 2011

I was waiting down at the ancient gate

It's when they've announced they're leaving that you see them most. People are motivated by finality, Jack decided without ten seconds' further consideration. The threat of real action, irrevocable consequences, will jolt them, move them, if nothing else will.

On this particular night he was thinking of, they had been sharing ice cream, which he had done at other times with Brandon and assorted third parties.

At this time the phone rang insistently, but he chose to ignore it.

What was the flavor? It was something like cereal milk, flavored with banana, or something else he couldn't remember. They passed the cardboard cup and shared a spoon, being family or close to it. Or maybe there were three spoons, he could not remember. It was a happy evening, with laughter, and the memory was still vivid.

The girls in the downstairs apartment were an infrequent presence in his life. He didn't know much about them except they had cats and parties and liked to gossip at late hours on the front step. Their voices would ring out clearly in judgement on cold nights when he had already been asleep two hours or more. Those nights were shining and crisp.

Thursday, April 14, 2011

the old way is best

I dreamt I was falling last night. I was standing on a tree branch that Cary took a chainsaw to. I was plummeting right before I woke up, nothing but solid stump under my feet. They arrested my downward progress with a Harry Potter spell. There was meat in avant-garde restaurants

Sunday, April 10, 2011

Fog Dream # 1

Imagine running up Labor in Vain Road, and encountering R——. The road is foggy; it's hard to make out who you're talking to. Lights wink in and out at us through the murk. R—— is trudging in the other direction. She is smiling, but in a pained way and too broadly. She betrays how false the expression is. Her voice is hollow as she tries to be cheery.

"Where ya headed?"

I have slowed to a trot, but I can't stop running, in that I am not allowed to by controlling physical realities in this state.

"I'm getting somewhere, I promise. I'll shoot you an email when I'm done. What are you working on, R——?"

The shrug, the well-remembered half-hearted joke.

"I don't know."

She maintains the image we have of her, even if there are cracks showing, doors left closed for long periods.

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

I used to live in Nashville

I love driving at night by myself. The road stretches out forever, inviting you to stay on board. Just drive on. The driving is the easy part. It's where you've been and where you're going that cause trouble.