As Soon As This Bottle's Empty

As soon as this bottle's empty, we'll rise
and though there'll be decades of clean-up
we've all worked in bars
and restaurants and shit like that.
we get a broom in our hands and it'll be like
riding a bike.

it won't be any kind of party, but it's okay
because we'll have killed that bottle.
once we sweat out the asshole
and drink enough water
we'll be good.

we'll buy whatever we need and
then maybe work on what we want.
see, we're rich.
we're rich
in piano lessons and offensive jokes
and first-aid tips and Aesop's fables.
we remember how to do push-ups or jumping jacks.
we can diagram sentences.
we can count to any number
as long as a few of us still have fingers.
we can count forever.
we'll be fine.

we've got the Double-Jointed
and the Hyperactive
the Bilingual and the Big-Boned
and the Obsessive-Compulsive.
we've got seven seas and stormclouds of
raw, natural talent - enough to
cover this Earth and then tuck it in again
after it dries out and yawns.

Y'all might wanna start building a boat
because as soon as this bottle's empty
we're gonna rise.


...
so i guess this one's a little positive.
i've always been interested in that notion of "threat vs. promise"
this could probably be seen as a meditation on that. or maybe i'm just looking for excuses. one of the two.

what's interesting to me about this is that i wrote it at least a month ago. before the recent patch of sourness i've gone through, and the subsequent shaking-it-off. things were looking pretty damn grim for a minute there, and in the last couple days i've found some reasons to smile... some not-so-horrifying headlines have been leaking through.

one of my biggest issues with this whole Being-an-Adult business is the concept of self-motivation. i've spent so long now just going with the flow that it's difficult to reclaim the assertive discipline i had to struggle to find when i was much younger. i'm not used to it. i procrastinate like a motherfucker. and when i'm all out of distractions, i tend to just dwell on my failures - lashing and whipping myself for putting off everything i want to do. this leads to a form of depression, which in itself is a pretty major distraction. before i know it, i'm talking myself out of all kinds of things. every now and then, i snap out of it, flip a switch, say "fuck this, i'm a goddamn dynamo!" but it usually fades after one or two minor accomplishments and i grab at some distraction like it's a type of reward and the cycle starts all over again.

i've got some pretty amazing and talented friends. they help me through it. bit by bit i can feel myself (and more importantly, ACKNOWLEDGE myself) gradually working my core through the mess and into some brighter progress. the extremities follow. it's subtle, but exponential. so, really, i guess this piece is concerned with that. and how i'm not the only one caught and flailing. so many people i know are in similar positions, similar traps, with similar lofty hopes about crushing the bullshit and getting up on the ambition ride. it's a difficult time for all of us. especially we creative-types, who have been known to smash ourselves in the face with one kind of mind-numbing substance or another just to silence the screams of all our old prayers realizing the world hates them and wants them dead.

this is just my promise to everyone, my invitation. let's actually do it for once. let's actually pool our resources and stories and skills and stop fucking around. i need help. you need help. let's help each other. because we could do some awesome things if we just gave ourselves the chance. we could build some breathtaking monuments. let's be grown-ups about this.
-andy

Supposed to Keep Going

we're driving toward the sun
she's not in the thing with me
not exactly
but we're driving toward the sun

and i know i'm supposed to keep going
all the way to where the crushed glass meets
the trashy salt and all those finned ghosts
all the way to the endzone
with possession

dodge the stink
hurdle the roadkill
drive to the sun
until i drown in its bathtub

i wanna nap
and not know when i'll wake up
wanna have no faint idea about it
but i'm supposed to keep going
i know this

she's got something she needs to see
and she can't get there alone
can't even get there with me really
maybe i'm crazy
because she's not in the thing with me
not exactly

but we're driving toward the sun
and my face is melting
my ears are horrible telephones
with eight billion friends
and nobody to answer them
i'm so tired.

i'm so tired of driving.


...
well, there's a new one.
-andy

August Tenth

it was like some terrible tailgate party
starved of laughter
all the bulbs held red for miles
like everybody wanted to tell me to stop
it was too late though
i was already here

the flares on the asphalt somehow made it worse
and the music didn't help
there was too much of it
too many tinted windows
and too many bored or frightened
or hateful faces grimaced by too many nightmares
in the windows that weren't

the uniforms were weary and lifting the body from the shoulder

it was covered
thank Providence, it was covered

even when the lights went out
and the smoke stopped grumbling
stopped telling me to stop

even when the blood started trickling
and then rushing again
it was still terrible
i was here
but i didn't get it
didn't know where

it was all just a big swing around the everything
like i was some particle
accelerating
no prayers other than a collision in a billion years
like the tailgate party was a seance
or a tarot reading

i was a wandering spectre who
couldn't find a hallowed smile
to lay down in
Resurrection Mary
with a car

but at some point
a friendly voice put a palm out flat
and flexed its fingers toward itself

i was alive
i circled the length of it
the clammy premonition defeated
i was here

and when i got out of the car
the entire street smelled like flowers


...
so i realize it's been a while - almost a month - since i last posted on here. i meant to put something up for my mom's birthday and mother's day. but i didn't. i'm a horrible son. i'll have those pieces up soon, i think.

i've been writing plenty and busy working on a bunch of other projects and undertakings (details on some of them will be forthcoming). i've also been sort of lazy, i guess. or maybe just afraid. or maybe some part of me wondered if anybody would miss my work. i'm not entirely sure.

this one is about driving into Los Angeles on my big move out here. that first night, there was a bad, fatal accident on the 10 and then i got way lost. thankfully the Little Joy was only a couple blocks from my new home and i got to drink a bunch of beer with my new roommates/good friends.

anyway, i plan/hope to get back to regular posting and that. cheers.
-andy