“Snow!” he shouted
tossing clouds of
thin, white sand at the beach
making snowmen
out of sand
with their heads
lying down
and their arms are wet planks
and their toes knotted kelp
and they never melt
until the sun explodes.
Cecil Vortex
A hard laugh
It was a hard laugh. A cold laugh. The kind of laugh that savages the funny.
It pulls the funny outside. Stuffs it into the trunk of a '79 Chevy Impala.
Takes the funny for a ride.
It was a hard, joyless laugh. And it kept on coming.
Different
I must be someone very different to him than I am to me.
Maybe I'm some fast-talking jack-ass some know-it all jerkweed some high-maintenance poindexter.
If he saw me in a bar he would hate me in that bar.
I hope god doesn't see me through his eyes.
x-post: Stack of Mitts up on MVRT
2 minutes and 17 seconds of all-new audio-fun adventure await you up on MVRT: Stack of Mitts, scripted by Cecil V. and starring Rodney K., M. Smith., and Lisa Bush.
Stack of Mitts, now playing on Monkey Vortex Radio Theater.
Some minor regrets
I should have gone to the bathroom when I had the chance. I should have got myself a coffee before the coffee shop closed. I should have not said that thing that I said. I should have just let it go. Let it go.
Here’s something
Here’s something you don’t hear often enough at award shows: “I want to shout out to all my poops.”
x-post: more MVRT madness
To say today’s MVRT is in bad taste would be a little like saying BJ and the Bear were in a TV show called “BJ and the Bear.” They weren’t in the show. They were the show!
Abu Ghraib: The Untold Story, now playing on Monkey Vortex Radio Theater.
x-post: Two new segments up on Monkey Vortex Radio Theater
Two new audio-fun segments now ready for psychic absorption on ye olde Monkey Vortex Radio Theater: The World is Loud, a poem written and performed by Rodney K., and The Birth of Cheese — a thick stew of fear, loathing, and dairy products, scripted by Jolene Phelps.
Cole Porter Lives
With the biggest smile, my headed-toward-four-year-old says:
“Daddy?”
And I say “Yeah?”
And he says:
“Since it’s such a beautiful day, I love you.”
And that line, complete with matching catchy melody, has been stuck in my headbone for nearly 72 hours now.
The perfect Cole Porter lyric, showing up nearly 40 years too late, at least from Cole Porter’s perspective.
RIP Cole Porter.
Tony Randall too.
Plastic cups
You could find us by the smell of cheap wine in open-air plastic cups.
See, we'd walked into this sunny summer party unguarded booze them all in college us two in high school. Strolling the lawn with our big red cups held chest-high both hands.
We were alert and amazed. Thick-haired and thin-faced.
Bobbing along like tipsy rowboats.
Sipping small sips.
Invisible. But not odorless.