sweet

I needed a little relief.

Something sweet.

*Lauren Grace.

You never have to apologize to me. 

Give me a chance.

I'll be your Christian Grey.

Let's dance.

You'll be my Dorian Gray.

I ain't like other boys. 

*Takes a long drag off a cigarette.

Unbroken eye contact.

Let's do this. 

To kick off the NBA season, we have a very special episode with our pal Conzo of the Indie Basketball podcast!

The Winds May Howl But…

No election,
no crisis,
no cancer,
no fear,
no fleeting outrage

will push me from my merits.

The world is far stranger than I could have imagined.

 
All I can do is surrender.

...Sometimes the moon dips down low enough 

for me to think about jumping up and touching it.

Do You Speak Your Fear Or Not?

"An ounce of behavior

is worth a pound of words."

- Sanford Meisner

Does saying it aloud give it power

or take its power away?

Caught myself pretending

this was a very different decision. 

I will take my temple with me

when I go. 

Cheers from a Pop Culture Casualty #162

I don't care 

what anybody else 

is watching.

Of course, I've heard

of Yellowstone

or whatever basic bro show

you watch. 

Poem

I want an Eames chair,

Next to a record player

In a sunset house,

Where laughter lasts forever. 

 

Hands Down!

I was meant to be born

in another time,

where simplicity meets secrets,

and a moment lasts

longer than an Instagram minute.

At what point

do we separate the tock

from the clock,

and hands down heal?

Delight and duress

seem to simultaneously

put us at our best, respectively.

Existence is curious,

because we can 

only look back,

leaning forward

like anxious fools

with Taurus fortune

and bad eyesight. 

New Music Genre: Post Nap

I invented it yesterday

around 4pm PST,

when I woke from another dream

without numbers. 

Marty was mixing music,

and landed on some mellow piano beat

that just spoke to my post-slumber sensibilities.

I could hear the yawning world

in the background,

Los Angeles laying low

in the yellow afternoon.

It was right then,

that I realized

I need to go back. 

Between the boat rocking,

and the dusty loops 

of the fast but seemingly sad song,

I vanished east. 

Swendeldon

Pernille's voice is very calming.

I hear it in my head

when I read her new poems.

Part of me wants to run away

and surprise her in Paris, 

fall in love, etc. 

Part of me wants to live forever

in inside jokes and poems,

the flirtatious beginnings. 

We'll go to Clippery for coffee,

meet her friends in Frunch, 

and have dinner in Clody.

My thunderstorm mornings

are better because of her,

weather she knows it or not. 

I got to bother Creed from The Office!

Poem

I have used the word "Anywho"

in three separate emails today,

but I am not an "Anywho" kind of dude,

so unsure if this is good or ill. 

armchair travel

when it rains in Guadalajara,
they say it’s a “tequila day.”

when it rains in LA
they say the world is ending.

it always rains
when I am in LA.

what does that say
about my existence?

no tequila for me,
only chilaquiles and stories.

they don't know 

the kitchens I come from. 

I wonder what kitchens

I am going back to...

Sorry I'm Late, I Was Jorkin' My Dork

as the undisputed poet laureate 

of music podcasts,

I've used comedy 

as a defense mechanism

since I was just a boy...

this middle is more

confusing than I expected,

what with all the adulting,

and now stairwells turn me on...

trying to picture my life 

a year from now,

but I can't see it

so that is what makes me 

the most scared...

and so I joke 

about the unknown,

because there aren’t a lot of books

about cancer for men like me.

Poem

from LA
to NYC
to SoFlo,
I find myself
thinking about
Lauren Grace
a lot, but
don't know
what that means.

Seasons

Her legs akimbo.

Salty fall.

From grace.

Lies and fantasy.

Revenge river nights of gold.

This is what I am told. 

A.M. Echoes, Midnight Organ Fight

Alexa is just a creepy jukebox,

and I am just a shitty poet,

listening to David Bowie,

and farting while editing

before the sun gets rich,

effectively destroying this poor,

beatific Saturday forever. 

It's a fit day for western ghosts,

nothing going on, nothing going down.

After the afternoon,

meet me at The Gin Rummy bar

on Washington Blvd, 

near Marina Del Ray;

my friend Mark is DJing,

so we can dance 

our tail feathers off

and forget for a while. 

It's a midnight organ fight.

Always down for a dance party,

you pick Stevie Wonder,

I'll pick Taylor Swift,

we will agree on The Right Stuff

by New Kids on the Block,

you can have my drink tickets,

and I will buy us dinner after.

assiduously

Hemingway wrote about how we can become stronger in broken places. 

Taylor Swift sings in a song thanking someone who bullied her, 

“I can't forget the way you made me heal.” 

If we choose to learn from what happened, 

if we choose to grow from what happened, 

if we choose not to be made bitter and awful 

(choose “not be like our enemies,” as Marcus Aurelius wrote), 

then maybe someday we can be grateful for this experience.

Someday we can understand that we wouldn’t have all of this 

without any of that. 

We can understand that they gave us something 

when they took from us, 

that they healed us when they hurt us.

Bet On It!

Someday—perhaps very soon—

we would give anything for today. 

It will be too late then though, 

to appreciate what we had. 

We can only do it now. 

We have it now.

As loud and messy and exhausting as life currently is... 

Enjoy it. Love it. Appreciate it.

Why Do People Always Want to Get Together?

I have been called a luddite for years 

because I’ve ruined so many dinner parties 

saying, “We’re all anxious, depressed. 

We all have ADHD because we are constantly 

connected to our devices.”

I am in an existential crisis: 

“Am I 25? Or am I 41?"

What should I work on that hasn’t changed

between those ages, 

between those me's.

I take out my phone,

and take a picture of cheese,

which I post on Instagram,

along with all my hopes and dreams,

only to be distracted by skate videos. 

Seagulls or Eagles

Joyriding jewelry through the sea of daydreams…

October pulls up a

   Chair

    in a vacant room

Being alone

  Requires

    emptiness

On the table

    Papers

with coffee rings

Strewn to the side

of me

And left

Ocean in you

Fire in the hearth

No 

one

    to watch it

Amply furnished

   Ticking clock

anyone

To listen?

Left Coast Liars

Rolling around in a rented Chevy Malibu

in this city of contrasts

with endless exciting and terrifying things

around every lying corner to the left

where everyone will tell you with a wink

that the moon never sets in LA

but I've burnt my tongue on this journey, too. 

The tops of the palm trees spin

mixing the fog with nostalgia 

while ignoring the future 

or at least lying to ourselves about it. 

Los Angeles has the bumpiest roads

and I am practicing my coffin pose

in the shotgun seat while searching the horizon

which is entertaining and terrifying,

the end and the beginning. 

Los Angeles is a lady that always 

leaves me wanting more;

ghosted by a city

full of funky blues

for all squares, creeps, 

and cornballs.

They torture themselves 

with shame and pride,

and me with time clocks

and unattainable ambition.

They get so they believe the lies

of their own hired liars,

bug themselves with their own slogans,

drag themselves over miles of broken iPhones.

I have never found this place's heart

but it is not for lack of looking

for lying is a listener's issue

so open your eyes 

to the new pollution

that is wasting precious time

while telling yourself you're special. 

Playlist, 10424

1. Giving Up by Michigander

2. Anything, Anything by Dramarama

3. Dull by Teen Jesus and the Jean Teasers

4. Feel It by Begonia

5. dayz gone by CLIFFDIVER

From the lauded Los Angeles venue Hotel Cafe to guests Dolo Tonight, Billy Wayne Davis, and Leighton Gray, Joe Wong, and Joe Plummer, to the wonderful Ellory Smith who helped jumpstart the fun, our live show in LA turned out freaking great  Thanks to everyone involved!