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Showing posts from November, 2015

Hangman 5

I look into the future and I can feel its cold creeping towards me. I can feel reaching my skin and making me question my next move. I turn on my iPod and star running. I use my legs to kegs to knife through the drizzle and my arms pumping against the wind. 
This is my chance to do something new. This is my chance.
The hangman comes and knock on my door The hangman, I didn't think they hanged no more
That's right. Before the Hangman knocks on my door. I've got to keep moving. Quarter mile down. I don't know if she meant what she said. "Warmth is my Achilles heel." 
Who talks like that? Cold, dark, feeling lost. That's an Achilles heel? How could she say that warmth means anything to me? I don't need warmth,  I need to catch my breath. This isn't a sprint, I've got a couple miles to go. And this new thing.
Jackbooted, tear-eyed working for the man  Even the hangman trying to do the best he can
How could a new job mean this much to me?
It's neve…

Hangman 3

"You seem a little twitchy." 
"You seem to be hovering over my fucking desk." 
Mike takes a step back, smiles. "I could hear the song you're playing in the other room, Just trying to see who the band is, and like I said you seem twitchy."
Mike is the only one left who can talk to me like that, I shouldn't be annoyed. But space is space. Don't try to collapse my bubble, you know what I mean?
The hangman comes and knock on my door The hangman, I didn't think they hanged no more
"It's called, Hangman, it's by Rat City Bastards. My son's learning to play it on the guitar, I download it on itunes."
'How's emo-boy doing?"
"It's not a phase, but what the hell do I know. He playing a pretty kick-ass song, he's got a full load honor course and college prep-shit. If my dad was alive he would call my son a pussy, But dad also thought computers were a fad." 
"Carter, my man we are getting old.&q…

Hangman 2

"Love this song."
The hangman comes and knock on my door The hangman, I didn't think they hanged no more
She walked to kitchen and shouted back over shoulder, "Why do you love this song?" I waited for her to return. I'm not much of a shouter. "Why do I love this song? My son is teaching himself how to play it on the guitar." She sits down next to me. Maybe too close. Where is my wife? How long does it take to make salsa?
I do my best but it's hard for me to make small talk. Viv knows this, so during Book Club I hide in the garage, but Susan's early, so now I make with the small talk. "Yeah, will they play this on the radio a bunch. I don't listen to the radio, but because he's learning it I fired up Spotify to see what other songs are like it." 
Susan leans in and put a hand on my chest briefly and withdraws laughing. "You're so cute. What a good dad." 
Jackbooted, tear-eyed working for the man  Even the hangma…