No Kind of World

In Gaza
Families sleep together
In the same room
So if bombs drop
During the night
No one survives

The simple fact
In Gaza
That families would rather
Die together
Than survive alone

What kind of world is this?

Death Trap Inevitability

I’ll never ride a Ferris wheel, a funicular, or any of those little suspended air cars that carry you over a body of water. I also won’t get on a ski lift, the London Eye, the Duquesne Incline, or any similar attractions because they all seem like guaranteed death traps just waiting to happen.

If I’m being honest, I’d say cable cars, cableways, aerial tramways, aerial lifts, gondola lifts, ropeways, sky trams, telphers, danglebahns, téléphériques, seilbahns, or any kind of suspended monorail are all suspect because of the traditional lack of inspection, upkeep, and general misuse.

I mean, “aerial transport systems,” anyone?

I guess the same goes for roller coasters or pretty much any kind of thrill ride or amusement park ride because, honestly, have you ever seen those things in action?

I’ll even go as far as to say I try to stay away from most, if not all, streetcars, trams, and trolleys, just to be safe.

Oh, and zip lines?

Fuck zip lines.

The Voices

The voices are back.

But not the ones from the elevator. They’re now coming from under the stairwell.

It’s a small crawl space. I used to put my shoes under there.

Not anymore.

The voices could get angry, and I don’t want that.

The voices.

They’re back.

I Got Nothing

I’m introduced at a party as Dr. Otto Rollo, even though I’m not a doctor nor am I German. I think I recognize someone from Brussels, but aren’t I in New York? 

Is this jet lag?

There’s conversation about a lawsuit concerning contaminated drinking water, which I know nothing about, so I sit quietly watching a mountain of blue candle wax make its way across the table. I look for an opening, maybe something about water consumption or environmental law or even candle construction, but I have nothing.

Drink & Screw

I’m a post-Cold War poster child.

I can walk around Prague with my Walkman and listen to the new Fugazi tape.

I might even learn the language so that I can drink and screw and bum smokes like the locals.

Bob’s Totally Americana Landscape

We’re watching Bob Ross reruns on VHS and realize that at any given moment Bob could just slap a dusty old shack right there in the middle of his imagined Americana landscape with a few brush strokes and we’d all be totally amazed and completely satisfied.

On Hearing In a Silent Way for the First Time

We’d crash Brown parties ’cause there were more kegs and more girls and ’cause our dorms were just pasty kids listening to Cacteau Twins. We wanted broken glass and hash knives and nobody cared anyway who was coming or going and so this one time I ended up in this girl’s room who was a Psych major, or maybe it was Philosophy, and all she wanted to do was listen to In a Silent Way over and over so of course I stuck around for as many times as she wanted to play In a Silent Way.

The Problem with the Bug Zapper

There’s a problem with the bug zapper. Like, bugs aren’t actually dying when zapped. There’s the usual zapping sound and zapping light, but no bug execution, so to speak. So what I’ve got a moral quandary now: all these half-dead bugs at the bottom of the zapper cage just crawling to a slow death. What do I do about that?

This Business

Seagram’s 7 to start things off
Then some work around the house
To keep it respectable
Later, a visit from JP
Who brings whatever he could lay his hands on
That particular week
Inevitably, down to the beach
Which goes several days
And then this business
Will start
All over again

Gone Fishing

I never liked fishing
But the boys wanted to go 
So I went along

There was waiting
A lot of waiting
And it was quiet

Maybe too quiet

Worst yet
The beer got warm
And I couldn’t thread
The hook

So let’s just say
It didn’t go well