I Want a Cookie

people who grew up in Connecticut are stupid

fed ex lion tamer

just kidding

Rooibos is pronounced “roy-bosh” in South Africa

Act One, Scene One

A twenty-something unshaven non-overweight white MAN with touseled hair in on stage with a dog. The dog is alert and happy seeming. A retreiver or mix, but shouldn’t be too much of a mutt.

MAN [scoldingly, to dog]: What did you just eat?

 

The dog looks at him, tentatively wags its tail.

MAN: You know you’re not supposed to eat things off the ground. What did you eat?

[The dog looks at the man expectantly. Wags its tail a little.]

[NEVER] TO BE CONTINUED …

poo-gas drug

Heterosexual Soul Singer

Heterosexual soul singer, baby

Emblazoned with tears now baby

Power maneuvers in the bar now baby low-light situations

in the dark

C. Darwin smiles over the scene, frowns over the scene, come-a cumma

whoonce chokka WINCE chokka woonce chokka WHILE STILE TURNED STYLE

chokka chokka now

heterosexual soul now, honey

men and women all alone, now honey

hetereosexual soulsinger singing

all alone

breathmilk

Repeating himself — the ultimate lost opportunity. The adolescent melodrama extending its long shadow deep into your twenties. Your sideburns growing into  beardhair, turning gray. She’s cartwheeling on a rail-thin indie-dude galleon bridgeing Philadephia to Brooklyn. Good luck up North. Sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry

prome

Art and coffee
and this includes music
are so much better
than hurting someone you love

worse than art
and music and coffee
are bad rock songs about hurting someone you love
I’m sorry