Sunday, December 28, 2014


Part I

Every time my friend Amelia comes over she asks if I would like for her to take out the recycling and I always say ‘No.’

Part II

Every time my friend Amelia comes over, she asks if I would like for her to take out the recycling and I offer a glass of chilled Prosecco. Her favorite is produced by a vintner’s whose name I believe is “The Blood of Fredo” in English (Sanguefreddo.)

Part III

Do you remember Fredo in the Godfather Part 2? He betrayed his family and got shot in a canoe.

Part IV

Every time my friend Amelia doesn’t take out the recycling, I think back to the days of my youth and the garbage can of my youth in my parents’ kitchen. The paper bags were filled with asparagus Kentucky Fried Chicken and old peas and cigarette butts and pork butts and meat scraps and Gainesburgers and Rice Krinkles and Frito bags and newspapers about the President and the Moon and Asia. 

Part V

Do you remember Fredo in 
The Godfather 
Part 2? 

He betrayed his family 
and got shot 
in a canoe. 

Part VI

If I had asked my mother if she wanted me to take out the recycling when I was a little boy she wouldn’t have said “What’s recycling?” she would have said “I hope that when you grow up you are a nice man and you do nice things” and my father would have said “Don’t be such a fancypants!”  which really means “Take out the garbage, buster!” and then I would have taken out the garbage.

Tuesday, December 23, 2014


I didn't think she could become any more beautiful than she once was, but every time I think about her, she is.

Sunday, December 14, 2014

I once saw a cake made out of bologna. What a fun thing this would be to bring to a party, my fiancée said, and then coughed a terrible, hacking cough. What a fun thing, she said, and then again, coughed. What fun, she said, and coughed. I have to rest a minute, she said.

I wonder where she is now.

Friday, December 12, 2014


I always wanted to say hello to the sleeping man in the Cabinet of Dr. Caligari - so pale, so sad. Although I know that you shouldn’t approach people who look sad. I read that in a book on happiness - “Ten Things That Happy People Do.” They don’t mention this movie by name, but they do talk about things you shouldn’t do, like not becoming attached to sad people, or people who don’t exist, and he, I think is both, although I do not speak German, which is what he how he would say “How Do You Do?” to me and then spoken of his sadness, and how real his life really is if he did, but he doesn’t. Nor do I. But at least I want to.

Wednesday, December 10, 2014

People love Porsamo Bleu watches because they are so complicated and precise inside that they remind you of a human brain. But they look more expensive than they are. Whereas a brain just looks grey. And feels mushy. But it is really as complicated as a watch that looks expensive and isn’t. They are both so wonderful. One this one, one that. And then there is the ven diagram of both. I would love to have both but I don’t know if that’s possible although they say it is. They say, you can have it if you really want. It’s just like they say in the reggae song, only that is about love, I think (where the heart stops the clock.)


I have met a thousand people in my life, but I have never met you.
I have never met your spectacles nor have I met your laugh.

I have never met your bald pate nor have I met your zest for life.

Nor your fine inventions nor you gout nor your way with the ladies 

nor your French have I met nor your pantaloons have I met either.

Although I have met a few French girls, some good records, a pair of boots

from America and old books with the ink that never met you but sometimes acts

as though it did. Well, 

if it didn’t meet you but acts that way, so can I. So I say to you, in a book:


Monday, December 01, 2014

I know that once there was a man, perhaps in the funny papers, who ate lightbulb sandwiches. As I change this lightbulb (me), I wonder if he did the same, and then thought to himself, “Why not? There’s no one around to stop me.” For some, this is spoken out of despair. For others, adventure.

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