the smell-o-vator rises to the top

opens the doors

and out come the roses

i forgot to stop and smell them

that was my undoing

now the thorns smell of iron & blood

olfactory whismy

if the smell-o-vator was pushing up daisies

i could catch a ride

                                                      ..............................savannah

the stray dog i picked up didn't wanna be picked up

in all actuality

I chased the dog down

haggard and drunk as he was

he was the very cutest

full of leftovers

and smelling like trash

i thought if i washed him he would be a good new pet

but he didn't want bath

nor did he wish to be clean

he had become content roaming from place to place

not remembering many

sleeping with the foulest bitches

pissing on well manicured lawns

and piling shit in other peoples bushes

but he was the cutest dog

i fed the dog the sweetest treats

and everyday he bit me

harder

and harder

until I bled

i fed the dog the thickest meats

and everyday he bit me

harder

and harder

until I bled

and still bleeding from his bite

i write

and wonder………..  did i pick the wrong food?

  Something child like and innocent living between the sheets in my head forwards my dreams to different mental websites like so much spam, but I have spam blocker…  so I really don't get it. 

A handsome face, a beard or a mustache or neither or both, a beach and a chilly ocean, a sunny day, a couple of lols and I am a sucker for anyone who enjoys my ridiculous life, however charmed, from real close by or 2000 miles away. 

The pillow comforts the impact of reality as my eyes open in the morning and I reach over to pet my fluffy golden dog who is eager to walk with me wherever. 

Brush my teeth, put on lip gloss (because early morning squirrels are ever judgmental) and go…

Not to anywhere or anyone or anything, because it is the journey… not the destination right?

At least that's what THEY say…. But much like the good witch said to the wicked… "You have no power here" nor do THEY have power in my life…

Little flecks of shining silver in my eyeballs that I no longer chase or wonder about; I just enjoy the show…

Checking my phone now and again to see if there is a message… and enjoying the smell of my dryer sheets

As my tears become fabric softener…

tomorrow i am finally gonna blog about what happened friday... i know its not in the most timely fashion, what with it already being written up in the sentinel and all, but hey...  i already filed for unemployment so i dont have much else to do, unless there are waves in cocoa beach... in which case i will blog day after tomorrow about what happened on friday and was written about in the sentinel today... or if you are reading this tomorrow it will be what was written about in the sentinel yesterday

i've been lost in jacksonville all weekend...

if u shook me today

i would shatter

thinly glassed snow globe that i am

sitting atop a hopeless florida mantle

too long after Christmas

all the nut-crackers have been wrapped and put away

there is no protection 

ur hands numb

crushing me with ur strength

unable to feel me crack

beneath u

the liquid spilling out

was only magnification

the inside is smaller

and all of the magic has left frosty's hat

the grits

once pure like snow

sprinkle out

and light

on a hot eye

on an old stove

they ignite for a second

brilliant red

yet even quicker they are put out

leaving behind

the all too familiar smell of home

8 days I waited

for the glue to dry

but it never set

now the water drips

my tears

and I wait to be refilled

because I still believe in u

why did the cute boy buy pomegranate & mango soap?

so that when he took a shower he could smell the pretty girl he missed of course...

why does the cute boy live in the dark?

because he couldn't catch the pretty girl's starlight of course...

why did the pretty girl throw the candy hearts into the quasar?

to intensify the mystical radiation of course...