Use your widget sidebars in the admin Design tab to change this little blurb here. Add the text widget to the Blurb Sidebar!


Posted: August 31st, 2009 | Author: | Filed under: Uncategorized | 2 Comments »

You have your hat pulled low. You’re watching. You’re the mayor of the corner. “Yo money, what’s good?,” you say to the vendor walking by with his shirt cart. You chew your gum.  You’re in charge. Can’t nobody tell you to move. This is your throne. You rule from it. You pull into your pocket and check your phone. You chew your gum. Nobody called, but you play with it anyways. That racing game. That flyin’ game. You read a text from yesterday night. “She crazy.” You chew your gum. You spit it out to the trash can, but you missed. Oh well. You adjust your hat. You adjust your dreads. You ain’t got nothin’ to do but a whole lot to think about. Like what’s going to pop off tonight. You think to yourself, “What is going to pop off tonight?” You don’t know. But something will happen. Maybe you should write something. Maybe you should go into the booth. Maybe you need some new shoes. Or a shirt. Or both. Gotta look right for tonight. You mumble a rhyme to yourself. Some old lady walks past and looks at you. You suck your teeth and pull your hat lower. “‘Chu lookin’ at?” Chill, chill, she probably got cataracts or somethin’, you think. Aight, office hours are about up, it’s time to bounce. But to where? To what? You don’t know. But you’re gonna act like you know. Can’t let them see the fear and the uncertainty. You’re the mayor, remember?

The Firing Squad becomes a Firing Squad.

Posted: August 27th, 2009 | Author: | Filed under: Uncategorized | 5 Comments »

This is my first day on the job and I’m started to regret it

I mean, this guy, what did he do, but stand up for his rights?

That’s a lot more than I can say, my whole existence has been pathetic.

My brother told me to join this and I’m not the one to put up a fight.


I thought that holding this gun would be cool, I’d have so much power,

Thought it would be an honor to carry out my duty: inflict judgment.

But I am supposed to perform efficiently with no care for who I shower

with bullets and pain— I pull this trigger and it stains those who disagree with the government.


We’ve locked, we’ve loaded, and soon we will be given the signal to fire

But I look in this guy’s eyes before he’s blindfolded and I realize that I know him

That’s Joe from high school, and I’m about to send him into the pyre

Without a care for his soul, without thinking of his family, without emotion.


Wait, this can’t be right, I will not take his life

He believes what I believes, yet he’s the one who spoke his mind.

And I’m the coward with this killing machine, about to widow his wife

No. I anticipate the final order and use this tool to eliminate everyone else in my line.

Scene from a studio.

Posted: August 26th, 2009 | Author: | Filed under: Uncategorized | 1 Comment »

“Alright everybody, a one, a two, a one, two, three, four,” says Mitchell Williamson, the producer and composer.
Arnold Kampis, Martin Thames and Stan Bentley come in on the keys, jazz flute and drums. It’s a sultry tune, light, but not too carefree. Then Pete Stetz blows his alto sax, adding just the right amount of squak and squeal to keep things interesting for 12 bars. They’re grooving. Then it’s Pete’s turn to mix things up a little bit.
“Squak-a, squak-a squeal, squeally-do, squaka, squealllllllllllllllllllllllll–”
“Ho, ho, hold it, stop. Pete, what was that?”
“Huh? Uh, you know, a solo?”
“Okayyyyy, but it sounded like you were trying something a little different. Sounded more free jazz to me.”
“Well, you know, just trying to keep it funky.”
“Okay, I appreciate that Pete, but that’s a little too much funk. You do remember the name of this tune, right?”
“Yeah, I thought it was Macy’s Junior section, jeans and gems number 16.”
“Pete, did you even read the sheet? It’s JC Penney Misses blouses! Number three!”
“Yeah. Alright, let’s pick it up right before your solo and let’s see if you can stay on track this time. A one two three four.” 

Ballad of the hot-dog eating champion.

Posted: August 20th, 2009 | Author: | Filed under: Uncategorized | 6 Comments »

Consumption is a function that I quite enjoy,
Whether it’s a gargantuan steak or a massive po-boy.
Meat and potatoes, dressings and cheese,
I’ve never met any food-like item that I wouldn’t eat.

But there is one thing that stands above the rest,
It’s a little bit of this and little bit of that, yet it’s the best.
It’s better than the sum of its parts
And eating it fast really isn’t that hard.

It’s a hot dog and it rocks hard
I break it apart, dip the bun in water and scarf
It down, then repeat the process until the timer goes off
Then pow, I bow, shake a hand and cough.
I’m the winner again and I’m going to try not to barf.