Had a story featured on Brooks Wheelan's hilarious podcast.
He pronounced my last name wrong, but it's okay,
because the pod is great and you should listen.

someone else's flask

Birding it up to a pool party
with beautiful women
and the World Cup on in the background.

Annabelle's regret is still on her mind
and she greets me like a stranger.
It's okay, I am 8 lighter.

I count the beautiful women
and the douche bags;
I lose to all of them.

I take a sip from a random, passed flask
regretting the absinthe,
and then find a place in the shade.

being alone surrounded by people
is a lovely disposition,
hence the too-cool moniker.

I fall asleep
and dream of New York,
and wake up on a clean-shaven leg.

Mix CD, I Wanna Live in Los Angeles

  1. Los Angeles by Frank Black
  2. Let Me Back In by Rilo Kiley
  3. Los Angeles, I’m Yours by The Decemberists
  4. Los Angeles is Burning by Bad Religion
  5. Electrolite by R.E.M.
  6. Angeles by Elliot Smith
  7. Why You’d Want to Live Here by Death Cab For Cutie
  8. Goodnight, Hollywood Blvd. by Ryan Adams
  9. Sleepless in Silverlake by Les Say Fav
  10. The Only Place by Best Coast
  11. It Never Rains in Southern California by Albert Hammond
  12. The Vicodin Song by Terra Naomi
  13. Time Spent in Los Angeles by Dawes

Tired Locks in Exhausted Doors

I discovered I was funny
while bartending in Orlando 
and then in NYC.

Confidence is a killer
and the dishes were all shattered,
heat waves help the creative process,
same as blizzards. 

Woke up in my clothes
having dreamt of you
and the future, again.

Moving on, 
I miss ya, Kendra Jean,
and every sound makes me 
remember that. 

But the birds in the trees
here in Venice Beach
know what I am going through. 

There’s a gal back in Florida
that I love,
but she is young 
and doesn’t know what she wants.

I’m trying to be better
and bet on newness and air,
but it just isn’t there.

It's okay, unlock it all, because
we all lose races,
speaking and screaming in hush tones,
certain faces haunt me more than most.

Laughpass (Learn & Move)

love it.
the seams of your blazer.
seem different and something.

new phrase.
keep dancing.
bob and weave.
like Black Jack Johnson.

discovering a new band that you like is the best.
even if it is an old band that you didn't give time to.
set my death on fire so I can dance.

gonna disappear before I say more stupid things.
ok then.
enjoy your night.
mean something to me.

back in the day of nights.
I want to cough in London Ska.
make me one of us.

scream and laugh.
learn and listen.
move and keep moving.

there's always someone who will pay for that banter, baby

with tooth paste on my face,
I lose verses in my head,
coming off from under
mumbling one sheets.

making the forest, oh yeah,
I wanted my time with you to be great,
while all the rest of the minutes boiled down.

don't make sense of this,
because it doesn't make sense,
and I put you up on shoulders,
then packed it up
and went west.

I am happy of your sound,
the keys, the traps, the breeze bowing its head.
no matter how wrong I am,
try to let me back in,
buried by Tuesday just to create
something new, too.

there was nothing,
but there was everything,
and the song went a little something like this...

Small With You

in this big bad world,
I wanna be small with you.
just under blankets
with justice and love.
lost in eyes and weekends,
where we look forward to nada.

in this,
your freckled nose
is on mine,
while I am playing
the only song I know
on the guitar and harmonica.

in the grand scheme of things
our heart beats are little things,
just think about it
and think about being small with me
on a Monday painted ours.

don't know where I'm going,
but I know I want to make my journey
back to you somehow in the sound studio
where we can record loud lips
inside rain and outside everything,
supporting actors we be until.

what am I making love for?

Brian just inspired me,
even though some days I want to die a sweet death.
Maybe get hit by a bus in front of a ton of people I know.
That'll show them.

Other days I am reminded
to be inspired
by little cracks in the sidewalk,
text messages, songs and sonnets.

I am not even close
to being amazing,
but I want to be more than just
an asshole.

we all have darkness and light,
Star Wars taught us that,
and I can't wait to go back
to New York City and get in trouble.

The tunnel from Back to the Future II!

The New Somewhere

As the sun sets,
we met up with the sweetest boy,
Matt Stauder,
whom I only knew from videos
he made which used my poems.

We had a drink at The Dresden
in Los Feliz,
and then drove to The Griffith Observatory,
through the tunnel from Back to the Future II.

The new somewhere was calling me,
just as the new she was calling my phone
all the way from Florida.

Nothing I could do, bad reception,
and the winding hills of Hollywood
with its gorgeous homes and vistas
locked my attention.


my virtue is in distraction
and my primary weapon is a smile,
that inflicts another ghastly wound
also called a smile. 

it's my favorite thing
in the wide world,
to make someone smile;
I learned this in 7th grade.

I'm not the best looking guy,
nor am I the smartest,
but I pride myself on being funny and charming,
and that's my ticket in.  

the coyote needs rest

the face feels the wind.
the wind feels the face.
all the earth spins.
while sleep is or isn't.

how do you know that you're right.
if you're not nervous anymore. 
I'm pushing on past rocks and riptides.
I hit the bottle with a hook. 

feel the wind on your face.
it is the same wind I feel.
offer me survival and I will tell you when it's over.
more than this, more than petrichor pain.

it's not so bad.
it's not so bad.
high in the sky.
knuckles and nonsense. 

The Antidote to Meaninglessness

The abyss of time 
makes no distinctions 
between the hero and the villain.

In a hundred and fifty years,
I will be forgotten,
by lovers and leftovers,
kids and grandkids, alike,
and that is okay.

Hopefully, my books still
sit on shelves, old and weathered,
dog-eared and yellowed,
smelling of shelves and homes before.

A legacy is not something
you or I will ever see,
but hopefully, a few pages survive
in the hearts and minds
of the future which I won't see.

Playlist, The Back of My Friday Times Ten

1. Heat Wave by Snail Mail
2. Yonder Blue by Tortoise
3. Perfectly Wasted by Matt Mays
4. Asido by Purity Ring
5. Cause = Time by Broken Social Scene
6. California Numb by Cloves
7. Reflections on the Screen by Superorganism
8. Tinseltown Swimming in Blood by Destroyer

Stolen Whiskey

Goddamn sun.
Goddamn death.
Why'd ya go and do that, Tony?

good photos fake me out, take me down.
I quit all my jobs last week.
and became an assistant for a C-List celeb.

I wish.

I also tried to fix things with Marc.
and invite him to my show in LA.

oh well.

accelerate my twisted shit.
because it's gonna get weirder,
before it gets calm. 

hit me up tomorrow.
I'll be around. 

Beautiful, Gorgeous Onions

My finger nails are long
and dirty,
but I won’t bite them tonight.

I’ve taken many stupid breaths in my life
and I took a few more on this dark night 
in Downtown Los Angeles.

I high five the drags, buy coke from one,
curse gentrification with the Mexicanos,
who have to deal with the white privileged trash
being ushered out of the Ace Hotel at last call.

Walking around with risk in my belly
and cocaine in my nose,
I consider a red eye to New York
and even more surprising, I contemplate
a morning flight back to Boca
to try to sweep an L off her feet.

What’s possible in these quiet moments
is loud as shit, in brains and beating hearts
all too stupid or scared to take a chance.

I am so afraid that I am not afraid;
the fear becoming natural like breathing or blinking, 
so ingrained that I barely feel it
until I am alone waiting for an Uber. 

What’s possible on Hollywood Blvd
is different than what’s possible on Broadway, 
but the hope is the same,
and I hope to find it because I’ll look anywhere.

Even an empty street at 4am in Downtown Los Angeles.
where I walk with greater ghosts,
all trying to get back to life
and wake up where they’re meant to be.

Dream Factory

Woke up on a boat in Marina Del Ray
to the sounds of seals and seagulls
and the rolling, rippling of water.

The tarp overhead did the trick
and kept the dew at bay,
the gentle sway of the boat did the trick,
because I haven't slept this good
since 1996. 

Talk about a water bed,
I was floating in slumber
and waking up to the sounds
of the mighty Pacific.

I dreamed exquisite dreams last eve, 
a veritable opera of past and future.
I dreamed of a Kentucky girl in New York.
I dreamed of a beautiful young thing in Florida
that makes my heart curious.
I dreamed of all the stunning California gals
I had seen my first day here.

Chilled in both directions,
I opened my eyes to something 
I haven’t seen in a long time:
Possibly with a splash of chance.

Is this my new life?
I don’t know,
But it sure is a Good way
To wake up on a Thursday.