36,500 Words.
Monday, February 28, 2005
This blog is temporarily suspended while I work on my novel. For details about that, hit me up. Otherwise, check the archives.
Paz y luz.
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Paz y luz.
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Saturday, February 19, 2005
100 Words About the Dunk Competition.
Of course, we were all pretty unimpressed with Chris Anderson,
huddled on the couch, covered by extra-cosy blankets like grandmas,
Emma and Sammy and I.
We were intrigued by J.R. Smith, he had skills, but it
just was not the Hornets' night, no way, sit down,
the finals are all set.
Amare Stoudamire won the big points for his second dunk,
but it was more like points for Steve Nash's feeder,
a perfect header alley-oop pass.
But when Josh Smith slammed over the sitting Kenyon Martin,
then later wore the Dominique jersey (me explaining the significance)
we were all like PLAZOW!
huddled on the couch, covered by extra-cosy blankets like grandmas,
Emma and Sammy and I.
We were intrigued by J.R. Smith, he had skills, but it
just was not the Hornets' night, no way, sit down,
the finals are all set.
Amare Stoudamire won the big points for his second dunk,
but it was more like points for Steve Nash's feeder,
a perfect header alley-oop pass.
But when Josh Smith slammed over the sitting Kenyon Martin,
then later wore the Dominique jersey (me explaining the significance)
we were all like PLAZOW!
Thursday, February 17, 2005
100 Words About Wrestling.
Why did I go out, in eighth grade, for wrestling?
I have no idea. I don't think I was gay,
and I have no patience for such rough-house grab-ass tomfoolery.
I guess it was about being tough, or trying desperately.
I was pretty good, overall; not very good or great.
Most of my matches were in practice against my friends,
where it was just a glammed-up version of sibling play.
Before actual matches, that pressure intensified. I very often barfed.
The best time was running laps around the deserted school,
learning to push my body, feeling like "I'm growing up."
I have no idea. I don't think I was gay,
and I have no patience for such rough-house grab-ass tomfoolery.
I guess it was about being tough, or trying desperately.
I was pretty good, overall; not very good or great.
Most of my matches were in practice against my friends,
where it was just a glammed-up version of sibling play.
Before actual matches, that pressure intensified. I very often barfed.
The best time was running laps around the deserted school,
learning to push my body, feeling like "I'm growing up."
Sunday, February 13, 2005
100 Words About That Queasy Feeling.
Vultures circling slowly as our love staggers through the desert;
Animals no longer striking curious poses, they're more comfortable now;
Little words whispered into shell-like ears usually now about money;
Exit signs looming redly over every door, are they beckoning?;
Night time is just the dark version of day time;
Tasks completed: the true measure of commitment to our relationship;
Interminable discussions leading to nothing, blind alleys always the destination;
No one knows why I drag myself through my day;
Elevator goes up, elevator goes down, no one ever gets off....
(no sir, I'm just playing, yo it's all still love)
Animals no longer striking curious poses, they're more comfortable now;
Little words whispered into shell-like ears usually now about money;
Exit signs looming redly over every door, are they beckoning?;
Night time is just the dark version of day time;
Tasks completed: the true measure of commitment to our relationship;
Interminable discussions leading to nothing, blind alleys always the destination;
No one knows why I drag myself through my day;
Elevator goes up, elevator goes down, no one ever gets off....
(no sir, I'm just playing, yo it's all still love)
Saturday, February 12, 2005
100 Words About the Alternate Universe(s).
my band, the Alternate Universe(s):
soul metal punk hip-hop lightning
soaring melodies from God's songbook
revolutionary politics but still danceable
oh my GAWD we ROCK
we roll like this dooood:
three guitarists (afropop, rock, funk),
our bass player impermeably scowling,
full Motown choreographed horn section,
backup singers dressed like pirates,
two precise drummers who sing
we ride out on motorcycles,
the crowd goes apefire nuts,
all the critics wetting themselves,
Christgau proudly sporting our t-shirt
the lights all go dim.
the drummers begin their tattoo.
the horns hit a fanfare.
I step out, slowly, with my accordion,
start to sing
soul metal punk hip-hop lightning
soaring melodies from God's songbook
revolutionary politics but still danceable
oh my GAWD we ROCK
we roll like this dooood:
three guitarists (afropop, rock, funk),
our bass player impermeably scowling,
full Motown choreographed horn section,
backup singers dressed like pirates,
two precise drummers who sing
we ride out on motorcycles,
the crowd goes apefire nuts,
all the critics wetting themselves,
Christgau proudly sporting our t-shirt
the lights all go dim.
the drummers begin their tattoo.
the horns hit a fanfare.
I step out, slowly, with my accordion,
start to sing
Thursday, February 10, 2005
100 Words About Things on Which My Wife and I Disagree.
She thinks all country music made by living people sucks.
I am not convinced that the Lifetime Health Network rules.
I don't mind a bright paint color for our living room,
something in a persimmon, maybe? Apple green? She just snorts.
We are both convinced, individually, of our own huge fatness,
but we both disagree with the other one's self-assessment. ("Aw...")
I'm a morning person, always have been; she is not.
She thinks it's important to actually DO laundry; I'm neutral.
I think that she'll eventually get tired of me, bolt.
I mention this to her. She says "you're so crazy!"
I am not convinced that the Lifetime Health Network rules.
I don't mind a bright paint color for our living room,
something in a persimmon, maybe? Apple green? She just snorts.
We are both convinced, individually, of our own huge fatness,
but we both disagree with the other one's self-assessment. ("Aw...")
I'm a morning person, always have been; she is not.
She thinks it's important to actually DO laundry; I'm neutral.
I think that she'll eventually get tired of me, bolt.
I mention this to her. She says "you're so crazy!"
Wednesday, February 09, 2005
100 Words About the Novel I Would Write If I Was Going to Write a Novel.
Which, I think it's clear at this point, I'm not.
But if I did, this is what it would be:
There's this guy, right, who's cool but not too cool,
Who at first doesn't believe in himself but he learns,
And achieves his goals, whatever they might be. Oh, and
There's a girl too, I mean a woman, sorry there,
And she's really smart and really attractive too, they meet,
They say some sharp mean funny things to each other.
And the villain, right, and some kind of natural disaster.
Then the movie rights get sold for ten million dollars.
But if I did, this is what it would be:
There's this guy, right, who's cool but not too cool,
Who at first doesn't believe in himself but he learns,
And achieves his goals, whatever they might be. Oh, and
There's a girl too, I mean a woman, sorry there,
And she's really smart and really attractive too, they meet,
They say some sharp mean funny things to each other.
And the villain, right, and some kind of natural disaster.
Then the movie rights get sold for ten million dollars.
Monday, February 07, 2005
100 Words About Sammy's Newest Book.
This latest work by young Mr. Cibula is a triptych. The first section, entitled "Elvis: Music #1," tells of a young man from Tupalo Mississippi and his gatar. The second, "Barbarins: Evil #2," informs us that "evrebody says they all have sowrds / but they dont / na-aa." But it is in the third section, "Bionicls: Robots #3," that his passion really comes through, as he lovingly describes these fucheristic fighters and their wepans. While this new work is perhaps more a place-holder than a new path, the pairing of Elvis, barbarins, and Bionicls speaks to something primal in the human spirit.
Sunday, February 06, 2005
100 Words About Wallpaper.
okay first of all dammit
who invented this lame crap?
'oh I have an idea,
let's put pretty colored paper
on our stupid walls instead
of just painting them, okay?'
okay second of all dammit
everything else has progressed, technologically,
except the wallpaper steamer, which
is still unwieldy and hot
okay third of all dammit
I must not understand how
to do this because it's
taking me about half of
forever, and it's one room
okay fourth of all dammit
I got it all down,
well okay bits and pieces,
even skipped the Super Bowl...
so where's my damned parade
who invented this lame crap?
'oh I have an idea,
let's put pretty colored paper
on our stupid walls instead
of just painting them, okay?'
okay second of all dammit
everything else has progressed, technologically,
except the wallpaper steamer, which
is still unwieldy and hot
okay third of all dammit
I must not understand how
to do this because it's
taking me about half of
forever, and it's one room
okay fourth of all dammit
I got it all down,
well okay bits and pieces,
even skipped the Super Bowl...
so where's my damned parade
Saturday, February 05, 2005
100 Words About Bolton Wanderers.
I didn't set my alarm last night for this morning
I usually do, on Saturdays, to watch English Premiership games
I missed the beginning of the Bolton / Crystal Palace game
I didn't even have time to make thick Saturday coffee
I was just watching El Hadji Diouf trying to create
When I heard Sammy's happy thump thumpdown the stairs
He snuggled under the blanket with me and we laughed
Then I heard the upstairs toilet flush, here comes Liza
Emma stumbles down, we're all here, all watching Bolton Wanderers
Beat Crystal Palace one-nil on Kevin Nolan's disputed first-half goal
I usually do, on Saturdays, to watch English Premiership games
I missed the beginning of the Bolton / Crystal Palace game
I didn't even have time to make thick Saturday coffee
I was just watching El Hadji Diouf trying to create
When I heard Sammy's happy thump thumpdown the stairs
He snuggled under the blanket with me and we laughed
Then I heard the upstairs toilet flush, here comes Liza
Emma stumbles down, we're all here, all watching Bolton Wanderers
Beat Crystal Palace one-nil on Kevin Nolan's disputed first-half goal
Thursday, February 03, 2005
100 Words About the Dentist.
I haven't been there in two and a half years,
So I am somewhat apprehensive as I enter this heaven
Of fernitude, soft music of the 1970s soft rock persuasion,
And tasteful entertainment and home decorating periodicals scattered artfully about.
But Buddha is my guide, Buddha will be my salvation.
Betty laughs, says "oh well, we've seen worse, believe me!"
And then starts to carve out a Metal Sutra
On my poor benighted choppers, poking torture tools beneath my
Gumline like she's that Chinese dude and I'm Sydney Bristow.
But Buddha is smiling today, it's over, AND NO CAVITEEEEEEEZ
So I am somewhat apprehensive as I enter this heaven
Of fernitude, soft music of the 1970s soft rock persuasion,
And tasteful entertainment and home decorating periodicals scattered artfully about.
But Buddha is my guide, Buddha will be my salvation.
Betty laughs, says "oh well, we've seen worse, believe me!"
And then starts to carve out a Metal Sutra
On my poor benighted choppers, poking torture tools beneath my
Gumline like she's that Chinese dude and I'm Sydney Bristow.
But Buddha is smiling today, it's over, AND NO CAVITEEEEEEEZ
Wednesday, February 02, 2005
100 Words About Floating on a Fluffy Cloud.
nine thirty I cannot believe / how tired I am now
my brane don't work right / and I'm snapping at everybody
stumbling around in the basement / scooping out the litter boxes
and there's no "24" tonight / the videotape is at work
so I mumble goodnight and / plod upstairs to my bed
suddenly my mind is floating / on the fluffiest of clouds
usually I average five hours / this is like a vacation
I awaken briefly twice but / both times shut back down
when I awaken everything's clear / I am groggy but vibrant
is this how all you / people feel all the time
my brane don't work right / and I'm snapping at everybody
stumbling around in the basement / scooping out the litter boxes
and there's no "24" tonight / the videotape is at work
so I mumble goodnight and / plod upstairs to my bed
suddenly my mind is floating / on the fluffiest of clouds
usually I average five hours / this is like a vacation
I awaken briefly twice but / both times shut back down
when I awaken everything's clear / I am groggy but vibrant
is this how all you / people feel all the time
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