02. January 2024
I'll catch Nick in 2025. He was 37 when he died and I will catch him in 541 days. I cannot tell you how much I fucking hate the idea of it. I'm heartened that I can still feel him. If I close my eyes, I can feel every inch of him. I can hear his voice clear as the absence of it. His warmth. His uneven attempts at a beard. I've been most afraid of losing those things to time - the tactile imprint of loving him for so long. 541 days. Christ. How did I spend my new year? Something old. Something...
25. November 2023
This'll be a short and pointless one. And why not? Should every blog be some full diaper coming-to-Jesus thing? I told my son two knock-knock jokes this morning. I'd never told him one before and I wasn't even sure he knew the proper call and response of it, but to my surprise and utter delight he did. Herb. "What?" Knock knock. "Who's there?" Boo. "Boo who?" Don't cry, we'll take the apartment! He laughed a polite laugh. A laugh that had clearly never seen Who's That Girl as many times as I...
personal · 23. November 2023
Andre 3000 released a solo flute album. Also, forgive me, I'm typing on the work keyboard and am unsure how to put the accent over the e. Anyways, this solo flute album is the first thing he's released on his own in nearly twenty years. And why is that significant. This man, known for being one of the greatest rap artists alive, preceded in artistic death by a lifetime of achievements and good works, awards, the fruits of his influence, and so on and so on. He released a fucking solo flute...
27. April 2023
I had one gin and tonic yesterday at the pool hall. Four gin and tonics and several beers six days before that. I am keeping track because alcoholics don't keep track. Did I hear that right? I'm counting the hours between drinks wondering when the next soonest and most appropriate moment to drink again will be. Alcoholics don't do that. They don't consider the optics. They just drink. Did I hear that right? I am the walking dead, I feel. Is that an oxymoron? I don't have any goals or hopes or...
28. June 2021
Alright, I've just about whittled everything down to this. This thing right here. THIS. I call poetry an addiction. I call it that because it's a thing that I've done for so long, a thing that gives me so little joy and yet I continue doing it, a thing that I've tried to stop doing before but could never quite manage the big sleep. I turned 33 two days ago. I quit writing almost two months ago. I axed my social media shit yesterday. I think... I think I'm cured, doc. All that's left is this....
30. May 2021
I deleted my allpoetry stuff, which is to say, I deleted sixteen years worth of timestamped tragedies, bad jokes, and old love. And I didn't feel a thing. That's sort of the problem anymore - I don't feel. Things. Nice things, I mean. I feel the other stuff. Nick's been gone for almost eight months already. If you add that together with the 2 years we were separated, that's practically three years without anyone to tell me that the jokes weren't all bad and that love is as new as we insist upon...
08. February 2021
my son is talking non-stop and my mom is doing her best to pretend she's already asleep. I'm in the next room, but if I had to guess, he's either sitting up and talking to her over her shoulder, or laying down and happily chatting up the ceiling. It's 11pm and I'm in the next room because I was hoping to get some work done tonight - there's that Brooklyn Art Project thing I've been putting off, the New Yorker thing I was gonna try, books I haven't finished/books I want to start... I was hoping...
23. August 2020
I can't pretend to have my thoughts in order, so I'll just say them to you as they occur to me. 'zat fair enough? Great.