old writing made new again
an old story seen through the eyes of a child...
This kid at school was bragging that his mom is in jail. He said it is best not to kill the rats because their corpses attract fleas. I guess his mom told him that. I stay at my grandmother's a lot. She has never been in jail but she smokes a lot of cigarettes. The ceiling is black above her kitchen table where she smokes. I think she is sad a lot. She likes pottery. She made an ashtray. I asked her if they have ashtrays in heaven. She spanked me. I asked her why she spanked me. She started to cry. I asked her if it was better to be sad than mad. She laughed. But it was a sad kind of laugh. Then she coughed really loudly and I felt like puking. She says I like candy too much. I told her it doesn't make me cough a lot. She spanked me again. She must like spanking me or maybe she secretly likes candy better than cigarettes. I hope she still loves me. She makes funny faces when daddy's around. One time I saw daddy spit beer in her face. It was an accident. My mommy told me that it doesn't matter what other people think of you. It matters what you think of yourself. But stuff like that doesn't help if somebody tries to run you over with their car. Daddy told me that.
so easy to judge and hate...
so hard to understand and love...
despite everything, I choose love
A couple of old skits written around the millenium. Not my best work for sure and definitely a little bit too cynical for my taste at the moment but still mildly amusing I guess...
"A pianist from Regina. A pianist from Regina has just joined the New York Philharmonic Orchestra at the tender age of seventeen. A pianist from Regina. A pianist from Regina. OK. You can do this. Stay focused. A pianist from Regina."
"We are on the air in ten seconds. Get ready for live broadcast in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1. We are live to air."
"Good evening. I'm Andrea Adamson. We are coming to you live from Saskatchewan where a penis from vagina has just........dammit....
DAMMIT....GODDAMN....I practiced this all fucking day....FUCK...."
"Jesus Christ. We are live to air. Get a hold of yourself Andrea. Try to salvage this. Jesus....this is unbelievable."
"Salvage what? Do you have any idea how long it took for me to get here? It's over. One fucking interview and it's over......I'm going back to my hotel room to hang myself. Fuck all of you."
this next bit is me throwing a few bitter jabs at celebrity culture...
"Tell us a bit about your career as an actor so far."
"Well, I'm now able to pretty much pick and choose any part I want and I've just started my own production company that will concentrate on developing independent films. I feel extremely blessed and spiritual about the whole situation."
"Do you realize that every jerk-off actor or actress has to mention that they are 'blessed' and 'spiritual'? What the fuck is that? Do you really mean that or are you just trying to be as boring as every other self-obsessed celebrity asshole? Why don't you just be yourself for once instead of listening to image consultants and manic depressive publicists. At least try to say something interesting. You're afraid. If you actually had to be yourself in front of the camera when being interviewed your career would be over. You have nothing to say. Your entire life is a carefully constructed lie. Go stare in the mirror and count the days before rehab. It'll keep your name in the papers. Start dating another celebrity. Name in the papers again. I don't know why I'm saying this. You already know it. What would you do if people stopped talking about you or the person you pretend to be? That's the end of the story isn't it? You need to read about yourself. You need to see yourself on those entertainment shows. Without the public eye you would be blind. Make sure you show up at trendy fundraisers wearing only the trendiest designers. Give money to charities that will thank you publicly. Sell your pubic hair on E-Bay for fuck's sake. Damn I've gotta find a new line of work. This is killing me. This interview is over."
a new poem
there is no such thing as an
untimely death
just all your questions answered in
one final breath
This kid at school was bragging that his mom is in jail. He said it is best not to kill the rats because their corpses attract fleas. I guess his mom told him that. I stay at my grandmother's a lot. She has never been in jail but she smokes a lot of cigarettes. The ceiling is black above her kitchen table where she smokes. I think she is sad a lot. She likes pottery. She made an ashtray. I asked her if they have ashtrays in heaven. She spanked me. I asked her why she spanked me. She started to cry. I asked her if it was better to be sad than mad. She laughed. But it was a sad kind of laugh. Then she coughed really loudly and I felt like puking. She says I like candy too much. I told her it doesn't make me cough a lot. She spanked me again. She must like spanking me or maybe she secretly likes candy better than cigarettes. I hope she still loves me. She makes funny faces when daddy's around. One time I saw daddy spit beer in her face. It was an accident. My mommy told me that it doesn't matter what other people think of you. It matters what you think of yourself. But stuff like that doesn't help if somebody tries to run you over with their car. Daddy told me that.
so easy to judge and hate...
so hard to understand and love...
despite everything, I choose love
A couple of old skits written around the millenium. Not my best work for sure and definitely a little bit too cynical for my taste at the moment but still mildly amusing I guess...
"A pianist from Regina. A pianist from Regina has just joined the New York Philharmonic Orchestra at the tender age of seventeen. A pianist from Regina. A pianist from Regina. OK. You can do this. Stay focused. A pianist from Regina."
"We are on the air in ten seconds. Get ready for live broadcast in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1. We are live to air."
"Good evening. I'm Andrea Adamson. We are coming to you live from Saskatchewan where a penis from vagina has just........dammit....
DAMMIT....GODDAMN....I practiced this all fucking day....FUCK...."
"Jesus Christ. We are live to air. Get a hold of yourself Andrea. Try to salvage this. Jesus....this is unbelievable."
"Salvage what? Do you have any idea how long it took for me to get here? It's over. One fucking interview and it's over......I'm going back to my hotel room to hang myself. Fuck all of you."
this next bit is me throwing a few bitter jabs at celebrity culture...
"Tell us a bit about your career as an actor so far."
"Well, I'm now able to pretty much pick and choose any part I want and I've just started my own production company that will concentrate on developing independent films. I feel extremely blessed and spiritual about the whole situation."
"Do you realize that every jerk-off actor or actress has to mention that they are 'blessed' and 'spiritual'? What the fuck is that? Do you really mean that or are you just trying to be as boring as every other self-obsessed celebrity asshole? Why don't you just be yourself for once instead of listening to image consultants and manic depressive publicists. At least try to say something interesting. You're afraid. If you actually had to be yourself in front of the camera when being interviewed your career would be over. You have nothing to say. Your entire life is a carefully constructed lie. Go stare in the mirror and count the days before rehab. It'll keep your name in the papers. Start dating another celebrity. Name in the papers again. I don't know why I'm saying this. You already know it. What would you do if people stopped talking about you or the person you pretend to be? That's the end of the story isn't it? You need to read about yourself. You need to see yourself on those entertainment shows. Without the public eye you would be blind. Make sure you show up at trendy fundraisers wearing only the trendiest designers. Give money to charities that will thank you publicly. Sell your pubic hair on E-Bay for fuck's sake. Damn I've gotta find a new line of work. This is killing me. This interview is over."
a new poem
there is no such thing as an
untimely death
just all your questions answered in
one final breath
posted by Kevin C. Pearce | 11:30 PM
1 Comments:
Mr. White Trash,
This is more of a rant than a comment, though it spawned from your writing[s].
===
If you are ever taught as a child that violence solves nothing and then spanked an interesting paradox is formed.
Somewhere between your fear and your pain tolerance you lose your free will. The church wrote the book on this. The government [with the church's blessing] has picked up where the church left off and ran with it.
"Remember kids..."
Violence solves nothing
Crime doesn't pay
Stay in school
This makes each generation soft, obedient and bound to the will of those who would have them work, breed, retire and die to the tune of the national anthem for a country that is only in business for itself.
Then my dad looked at me with a sort of sadness I have never seen and said: "Son, why couldn't you have just been a capitalist?"
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