Some “Jake” to go with your Molly…

…Jake wasn’t a great lover; too many hard edges and a complete lack of patience, but he had a simple sweetness about him that appealed to Molly. Somewhere inside was a little boy that just needed attention. She believed, like so many before her, that she could somehow love him enough to heal him. Jake’s troubled soul needed more love than Molly or anyone else for that matter could muster.  They quickly fell into a routine, Jake drinking too much, missing work, and promising it wouldn’t happen again… and of course Molly wanting to believe things would be different this time…

Some Molly – from “Jake”

… The bedside lamp throws a shadow over the far side of the bedroom as she clicks it out. Stretching, trying to fill up the bed, she turns over. It’s then she sees the soft silhouette on the dresser of Jake’s three shirts and two pairs of socks from the morning laundry. The flood of hot tears is unquenchable she can’t help but snuffle into her pillow – clenched fist in her chest trying to massage away a pain that can’t be fixed. While just short of four hundred miles North Jake cuts the engine and listens to the ticks and pings that normally sooth him; sucking on his cut lip he tries not to think about Molly… 

Life on the Net

So, I spent about an hour on FB this morning and this is what I came up with… Has your life become an internet meme? 

Do you think to yourself, I should do something I love cause then I’ll be happy? Broke, living on the street, un-showered but fucking happy as hell! 

Are you tired of reposting, reposting, reposting… so some kid you don’t know can get better – wouldn’t it be nice to have an update on that shit – AMEN?

What about having to look at all these food pics that you know you can’t make and neither can the asshole that posted it and besides didn’t you just spend $300 on some super shake solution that tastes like shit?

Politics – just fuck all of them…

Olympics – yeah fuck them too – well except the Russians – cause anyone that can drill a hole in the lab wall and pass clean samples back and forth deserves a fucking medal…

Motivational posts – seriously you are trolling FB all day – I don’t think they are working on you. 

Your baby, puppy, kids, blah blah blah – do I even need to say it? We are all glad yours are so much better than everyone else’s! oh and fuck off…

You’re so blessed – fine we get it now stop rubbing that shit in our faces

You blessed someone else – fine you’re the greatest person in the world now stop rubbing that shit in our faces

You’re kneeling, standing, crawling, running, walking whatever shut the fuck up – we’re all just trying to get through the day… just leave everyone the fuck alone already

Happy everything, hope you have a wonderful fucking day – do I really need to keep hearing about it? 

Since obviously no one will tell you – you suck at relationships cause you’re an asshole stop posting about it please… it’s definitely your fault

The Order

The steam rises in soft plumes out of the chipped ceramic coffee mug while the thin napkin, folded just so, absorbs the first drops of condensation beginning to journey down the side of the hard-plastic water cup where the square cubes of ice seem to joust for position.

Johnny studies the sturdy plastic menu with an intensity usually reserved for things of much greater comport than the overwhelming selection of egg and hash-brown combinations pictured. Melissa twirls her pen over the yellow pad, “Melissa” isn’t really her name but the faded tag had been carelessly left behind attached to the uniform shirt her manager had tossed her way that first day seven months ago and she had never bothered to change it. She had long settled on answering to hey girl, you, or just about anything else – Melissa would do.

“I think I’ll have the ham and cheese omelet, grits, and raisin toast dark,” Johnny finally intones carefully replacing the menu in the metal brackets next to the napkins, bottle of Texas Pete and stacks of foil jelly containers. It was a serious decision he thinks to himself, everyone knew breakfast was the most important meal of the day.

Melissa nods with equal seriousness, “Yes sir coming right up,” she answers not bothering to write it down, Johnny has ordered exactly the same meal every morning since she started, and who knows for how long before that. “Ham and Cheese plate, grits on the side, raisin well,” she hollers at the cook…

Thoughts on Irma – The Aftermath

*This is a five part piece – I encourage you to start with “Thoughts on Irma #1” and read forward… JC 

It’s been three days since Irma turned North and hit our little town dead center, about half of us have our power restored, a few stores and restaurants are opening back up, but normal still seems a fair bit off. There are long lines at the few gas stations that have fuel and those that fled early are unable to return for fear of running out before making it home. On every street the steady whir of chainsaws fills the air from dawn till dusk and the scent of fresh cut wood is inescapable. The piles of limbs and brush line the avenues and side streets, growing in stature as the once mighty oaks fall to the blade, some as much five or six feet across having seen hundreds of years – now lie dead in the unblinking sun. Leaves cover the ground and streets like fall in New England – an unexpected blanket of green.

As evening approaches folks start to return to their homes, grills are fired up, candles lit, and the rhythmic chatter of a generator punctuates the still air. It’s hot and humid, the air lies heavy and still – not even a hint of breeze as if the wind had exhausted itself earlier and now is slumbering somewhere far from here. It’s not quiet but the sounds are all different, no TVs, no music, even the traffic has disappeared – they have been replaced with the hoot of a hunting owl, laughter from a few doors down, the tireless chirp of the lake frogs, and the stray bark of a lonely hound.  News is exchanged on the sidewalk and the interaction of neighbors harkens back to an earlier and simpler time.

Life is already moving on, the inescapable pace of today’s society can’t and won’t wait for our emotions, anxiety, understanding to catch up. It’s going to take time to fully process this experience, we talk about it – sharing the memory, the feelings, coming to grips with this brush against our mostly ignored mortality.  Today we hung the pictures back up and moved the porch furniture back into position – symbols of normalcy. The electric is back on – something we celebrate with embarrassed restraint as there are so many still waiting. Tomorrow will bring a trip to the grocery store to replace the provisions that have spoiled in the unforgiving heat and life’s mundane routines will begin reasserting themselves.

I imagine it will take weeks to fully restore all power, services, and cleanse the landscape of wreckage and in that time we will exchange our stories of that night and come to grip with our personal lists of would have, should have, could have – but the reality is our psyche will only allow a tepid remembrance lest we live on trapped by the understanding of our insignificance.

Emerald Eyes

I can’t look away, I can’t break free
For your emerald eyes have captured me

As that sweet smile plays across your face
I have forgotten everything else in this space

What kindred spirits are we
Sand, surf and of course teriyaki

So my pretty Irish girl
You’ve given my heart a whirl

I can’t look away, I can’t break free
For your emerald eyes have captured me

My Wife

My Wife

The sparkle of powdery blue eyes
A whimsical smile escapes

The softest touch
And a playful spirit

Caring, nurturing, committed
Grace born from experience

Tested, tried, and triumphant
Partner, playmate, friend

The sparkle of powdery blue eyes
A whimsical smile escapes

I love you…

The Wilderness

…it exists at the junction of betrayal, heartache, and hope.

The days seem to blend together in an endless stream of sameness as I journey further into the wilderness. There really is no beginning or end just a senseless jumble of destruction. The once mighty forest lays in ruin about me charred as if some hell spawn has unleashed the very fire of the netherworld upon it. I remember the mighty oaks, majestic maples; the stately firs that seemed to tickle the top of the world. If I close my eyes I can feel the dappled sunlight on my cheeks, I can hear the creek in the distance as it carelessly chooses its path down the hillside. It’s only an illusion there hasn’t been any life or joy in these parts recently, the sun no longer warms the earth beneath my feet and an endless twilight reigns in the heavens. Read more ›