Journal

Sat, 31 Oct 2009 23:17:05 GMT

does anyone want to employ me? i work cheap and will clean dirty areas with just minimal complaint.

Thu, 10 Sep 2009 08:21:53 GMT

my legs hurt hurt hurt. i walked walked walked now i'm gonna sleep sleep sleep coffee then drink coffee coffee and read read read

MY LIFE COMES IN THREES!

Oh man oh man. I love life. It's magic.

Tue, 18 Aug 2009 23:53:26 GMT

It's too damned hot. I drove to San Francisco and then drank a whiskey coke and then drove back. So what? My back hurts. And the drink wasn't made strong enough.

Now that my vacation is over I am back at work. I wish I could get paid to be on vacation permanently. What a deal!

Oh, and I won the lottery. I bought a scratcher and scratched off all the parts that needed scratching and discovered three words that signified my win. The word "TICKET" three times. I thought it was a golden ticket I had won and maybe a trip to some mysterious chocolate factory but when I brought it back to the liquor store the clerk just gave me another lottery ticket. I was disappointed but I scratched it anyway and lost. Winning the lottery is overrated.

Damn if I don't love me some vegetables. Who would have thought? Not me, says I. But here I am, healthier than a damn racehorse hopped up on horse amphetamine.

I am going to get some coffee. Meet me at Starbucks. I'm buying!

Sun, 07 Jun 2009 08:02:59 GMT

the hangover was funny. but i didn't watch it drunk. that might have made it funnier.

i am trying to get promotions or work up the nerve to quit my job. i should just look for a new job. "Hello sir. I would like to apply at your glorious establishment. Why yes sir! I am qualified. VERY qualified."

other than that, same old. i have started taking vitamins. gotta keep up my health.

i hope this letter finds you well. and aroused. it's always good to be aroused.

Sun, 26 Apr 2009 20:55:43 GMT

brrrrrrr, i want hair back. i cut off too soon and now cold a gain.

how many brian sells do alcohol kil?

mine is all gone.

Wed, 22 Apr 2009 00:39:28 GMT

SOMEBODY TURN DOWN THE HEAT!
I am sweating profusely.

Mon, 20 Apr 2009 07:23:51 GMT

HELLO! I am still alive. I saw CRANK 2 or CRANK II and it was full of drug-fueled fights and public sex. A real piece of classic film-making. Gorgeous.

Everybody was evicted from the brown house. Sad. I drank a bottle of Sutter Home wine then I went over and stole several classic records and a hat and a woman's leather jacket.

My grandpa died. Then he got better! Just kidding. That only happens in movies like Crank 2. But my grandpa really is dead. Goodbye grandpa. I hope death is easier than life. I hope it wasn't too painful to die.

I hate facebook & myspace & livejournal & twitter & virb & all these fucking social networking sites. It used to take effort to stay in contact with someone. Now you add them to your facebook & never have to talk to them again. If they say "Why haven't you called" you just say "I left you a comment last week, asshole."

I have a beard but I am going to shave it off. It's too hot for hair.

Lately all I have been listening to is blues. Lots of Lightnin' Hopkins, Sleepy John Estes, Robert Johnson. Great stuff. But they mostly sing about drinking and threatening to kill their wives or mistresses. It has an effect on the psyche.

SHIT I gotta go to sleep. Work early. Goodnight.

Thu, 06 Nov 2008 02:27:34 GMT

i know one of the presidential candidates was black. did the black guy win?

Thu, 16 Oct 2008 02:33:49 GMT

do you pray for a severed signpost
arms folded at the crossroads
to tell you where to go?

a woman to love you in the evening
to watch as you are leaving
& to wave from a weathered window?

have you paid for your intimacy
in specks of blood & pity
are you aware of the debts you owe?

do you pause at the garden's gate
& listen to chirping birds debate
on the worth of buried bones?

if you listened to your own heart beat
a prattle of high heels on concrete
you would know what it means to be alone.

if you gathered all your lovers in a room
the scent of sex mingled w/perfume
& overheard the sound of voices pitched low

imagine what they might say about you

Tue, 07 Oct 2008 23:02:20 GMT

wolf-world

an old friend
& truck hijacker
mad dog tony
once told me
during one of his
gentler moments
that the little groove
beneath the nose
& above the upper lip
is where an angel
places its finger
to quiet you after
you are born
he said this after
taking a marlboro red
down to the filter
in four drags
i looked at his furrowed brow
through the smoke
& thought it's more like
where satan stubs
his cigar out
after we pop out
into the salivating jaws
of this wolf-world

-rob plath

Tue, 07 Oct 2008 22:47:07 GMT

unknowingly blocking out absence

my grandmother
came to live with us
when i was 5
she was dying of cancer
i didn't understand
that back then
she used to stare at
me at the table
when i was eating
breakfast
trying to make me
smile & i, being shy,
would build a wall
from the milk carton
& the cereal box
& 1/2 gallon of orange juice
but she'd still peer
between the cracks
as i unknowingly hid
from the absence
she would soon embody

-rob plath

Tue, 07 Oct 2008 22:20:48 GMT

Ashes, Junkyards, and Strays
The following day
after the funeral
your car doesn't start.

As if the ceasing
of bodies
isn't enough.

Now you sit,
stranded in a
small subterranean
apartment

Without a cigarette.
Without a drink.

Alive but filled
with images
of bodies
slowly being
reduced
to ash,
with images of
an obscene
mechanic's bill,
or worse than that,
the junkyard.

Then you jump
because you
hear this
horrible, sad
crying.

A stray cat is
at the screen
door facing
your cat.

And their cries
are the sounds
your thoughts
would make
if they had
tiny mouths.

-rob plath.

Tue, 07 Oct 2008 22:09:54 GMT

smash yr mirrors like you smash yr idols
for four years i drove
this 1978 chevy nova
w/out a rearview mirror

i had knocked it off jumping across
the seat to the passenger side door
b/c the driver's door was broken
& i never bothered
to glue it back on

also the adhesive that held the
side mirrors on loosened
& they both dropped at different
times while sitting at a traffic light
& shattered on the pavement

don't listen to the masses:
intact mirrors are bad fucking luck

that's when i broke my habit
of looking backwards
i just kept punching the gas
& accelerating forward

my fender eating up the center
line as i zoomed towards the sun

-rob plath.

Sat, 21 Jun 2008 12:36:54 GMT

who the hell is awake at 5:30 in the morning? it is an ungodly hour!

Mon, 02 Jun 2008 08:27:27 GMT

update on college (ALTERNATE TAKE!) i am not graduate. i failed several classes and am currently being sued by a teacher for trying to seduce her in hopes she would give me an A. she was 71 years old.

i didn't make it! now somebody given me a very high paying job!

Sat, 31 May 2008 19:56:47 GMT

update on college: i am graduate. not bad grades either.

i made it! now somebody given me a very high paying job!

the waiting.

Sun, 13 Apr 2008 00:55:08 GMT

if it's
the waiting
that bothers
you

fill the tub
with cold
water

get on your
knees

dunk your
head beneath

and don't
raise it
up

until you
feel
my hand
gentle
on
your shoulder.

the new year.

Tue, 01 Jan 2008 22:31:02 GMT

"You clutch the thin air and try not to swoon
You touch the mirror and reach for a towel
The sun pours gold into the room
And it leaves a sick taste in your mouth

You heard the lovers sing "Auld Lang Syne"
As the dancers bruised their feet
And you thought How come my lips taste like wine
When theirs look like champagne?

Now there's no time left for lies
You dowse the fire and nurse the dark
And bend your elbow one more time
To kill the lights and stab the clock

It's a new year
And you don't look your age
And everyone seems so happy celebrating
Winter this way."

Mon, 31 Dec 2007 00:30:03 GMT

lately baby's had a look of discontent.

Sun, 09 Sep 2007 22:54:47 GMT

I'll say this,

I don't give a damn about your dreams.

You Are Ready for Death

Mon, 20 Aug 2007 23:18:29 GMT

Your peroxide wife is asking about names
for the baby: Phoenix, Dakota, Shep.

You've opted out of your vacation to Prague (again)
so that you might afford to hardscape your backyard.

Your new Suburban has just collided with a VW bug,
hurling an earlier version of yourself across the highway.
(Your wife and unborn child are fine,
but your ego, your laptop, your factory Champagne
Metallicare a total loss).

But you have insurance, good insurance;
you have all of the insurances.

You jog, eat vitamins, ex foliate.

You are touched by black and white commercials
for diamond jewerly.

You dislike oral sex.

You know that Trader Joe's has frozen Chilean Sea Bass for
$4.99 a pound (a fucking good buy!).

You understand your 401(K).

You like jazz by white guys.

Your silverware matches.

You read Tom Clancy novels,
big fat ones
that make you paranoid and patriotic.

You are weary of driving across the county line
and make your wife duck in "black" neighborhoods.

You like white zinfandel.

You have a single-family home with a good alarm
and a bedroom for Lupe.

You have the best lawn in North Lake Margarita Vista,
and a three-foot lemon tree that bears no fruit at all
--not even promising little nubs--
its hard leaves like little flat fingers
always filtering and taunting,
like some crazed and horrible child...

And you are ready.

You have been ready for years.

-John Delano Payne

Wed, 04 Jul 2007 03:06:59 GMT

I miss this feeling of school boy/girl crush. Nowadays, if you like a girl, you just go over and talk to her. Back in Elementary school, or Junior High, it went a little bit like this:

"...Ben would sometimes look sideways at Beverly, stealing her face, and his heart would both hurt desperately and somehow grow brighter at the same time. He supposed he had a crush on her, or was in love with her, and that was why it was always Beverly he thought of when the Penguins came on the radio singing "Earth Angel" -- "my darling dear / love you all the time ..." Yeah, it was stupid, all right, sloppy as a used Kleenex, but it was all right, too, because he would never tell. He thought that fat boys were probably only allowed to love pretty girls inside."

-An exerpt from Stephen King's It.

Death of A Lady

Thu, 28 Jun 2007 20:17:55 GMT

Summer slid from the steeple tiles into the flowing dish
and we were all astonished she let go of heat like this.
Then we were gone again it seems, to green uncharted woods,
where the rivers roll and bend over backwards for their fish.

We returned to the late, great plains,
the wounded and unchallenged stain,
to satisfy the saint we said
"You must keep clouds inside your head"
to satisfy the saint we lied
"You must put charity before pride."

So she drove to the sunset to ask the moon "How come?"
But the moon picked up the highway using the ocean as a thumb.
"I just can't understand," she said, "How you left me in this room
with the pieces of our shattered bed, this flashlight and no broom."

They say the ghetto lacks prescription pills and your baby's cavity.
You can drill and fill with porcelain, you can send that shit to sea.
And the chosen with their lotion, and their powders and their slaves
can afford the biggest heartaches with the headaches that they save.

Narrow hands must gather paradise on silver strands of grass,
or in the Redwood forest, in forgiveness or in wrath.
But she looked for it in love itself, in the pores of his drinking skin.
She found it in the doorway and that's where she offered it to him.

But her lover disappeared just like the blisters from his kiss
and she retired to her bedroom with the aching limbs of Sisyphus.
They say she pushed a boulder to the crest of some God forsaken hill
while the rest of chose to do without or else worship standing still.

- Simon Joyner

Thu, 07 Jun 2007 22:52:11 GMT

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Fri, 27 Apr 2007 16:23:19 GMT

"If I left tomorrow, you'd remember today
as something that happened to you yesterday
When love wasn't new but it still hadn't faded
If I left tomorrow, you'd remember today

When my Granddaddy drank whiskey he was sinking or flying
Papa spins an old record that reminds him of dying
When my Ma' got the fever, she'd take two sleeping pills
She said 'You got to feed a heartache, starve everything else'

Your lips sure shook the first time you said it
The wind comes to steal me Mama, don't think I'll forget
Nothing was wasted here, nothing was sold
We just traded freedom for something harder to hold

A tornado took the house, but left behind a decade
Someone comes to smooth out the lines put in your face

If I left tomorrow, you'd remember today
as something that happened to you yesterday
When love wasn't new but it still hadn't faded
If I left tomorrow, you'd remember today"