Final Edits

It is going to be a long, lonely winter of edits. There are currently thousands and thousands of bitter words loitering embarrassingly around this forgotten and overlooked little blue house.  And they are all relying upon me for a polish.  Or a learned, insightful nudge into a more meaningful incarnation of themselves.  Or maybe even a brutally justified dismissal, if deemed to longer hold any value in the storyline unfolding. And it is a seemingly never-ending cycle of printing, scribbling, patching, and tweaking.  Over and over.  Night after night.  Marking time in the endless hours with only a red pen’s ink for company, indiscriminately mixing in a fair amount of alcohol, just to numb the underlying naked brutality of it all. It is a catastrophically flawed …

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Stay Drunk, Ponyboy….

Another cold, empty winter is fast approaching- I feel it tonight in aging, creaking bones and I can smell it clearly on the winds blowing in hard from the west.  Memories of humid summer Indiana afternoons disintegrated under the blanket of an early darkness falling.  Thoughts of a hopeful spring rejuvenation, growing lush and green and virginal, are nothing but a distant mark in a rapidly crumbling recollection, bullied away by invasively invisible invaders all out on the hunt. And the final kill knows no season. Above me a limp, unimpressive skyline of an increasingly infected and judgemental City of Wayne tries unsuccessfully to hide itself behind the skeletons of trees blown bare from the incessant crawl of an isolated winter’s fatal touch.  Too many punctuating …

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Nobody Told Me

Nobody told me there’d be days like these. Nobody told me about these strange days unraveling here in the City of Wayne, with an unpredictable ridiculousness lurking around every corner and behind every text message sent and received.  The conservative slant of a once familiar cityscape has slipped down into an emotionally charged minefield of perpetually morphing expectations and definitions, somehow always twisting into randomly unexpected moments mainly consisting of “what the fuck just happened?” There is a swirling palette of consequence and accountability running loose in these dirty city streets of Wayne, tainting and taunting, infecting and complicating the day to day of a nervous citizenry caught in the incessant forward pull of a new history taunting. It is change and chaos; fracture and doubt. …

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Speech Writing 101

It is so very difficult to feel safe right now, when there is still so much virulent plague running rampant in our streets.  And when we see that our cities are still burning.  And that divorce and separations are unspooling the very fabric of our social unity.  And when a war that threatens to be anything but civil threatens and taunts from a not too distant future if we do not shift our course. People are understandably scared in these unpredictable times.  People are undeniably hurting.  People are becoming lost, struggling to find their way amidst all the confusion and disinformation that feed the cancer of a disenfranchisement festering at our very national core. It often feels nearly impossible to find a solid footing in the …

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More Fear of the Loathing

It wasn’t just her. There were several people that came to mind when I wrote my last tantrum in a whiskey-fueled, late-night empty hour, “burn it all down” frantic madness.  But I fear that she inadvertently took the brunt of my boorish rebuke.  That was neither fair, nor intended, so I must now be man enough to throw myself willingly upon my literary sword and write for her…better words. She deserves at least that much. Most nights, especially after those when our ridiculously adult schedules happen to align, and I can actually choke back my phobias long enough to share the naked intimacy of a transcontinental telephone call, I have come to realize that when she crosses my mind, it almost always makes me feel a …

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