For when you are racist.
You Look So Beautiful
You look so beautiful.
Or maybe it’s the angle
From my position on the floor.
You look so beautiful
With that smile on your face.
Or maybe I’d just forgot
How pretty your smile was,
It’s been gone for far too long.
You look so beautiful
With that smile on your face
And that knife in your hand.
Or maybe it’s loss of blood
Blurring my mind.
But it’s so good to see you smile
So good to hear you laugh.
You look so beautiful.
The world outside is ending, i can feel it in the pit of my stomach. The Earth is probably splitting open and swallowing people whole. They are screaming as the ground devours them. i wish i was them.
i am inside, dying a slower death. Death by spread sheets and paper jams and cheep coffee.
My office doesn’t have a widow, just four gray walls, gray carpet, gray computers, gray suits. Everything is ugly and gray. The wall in front of my desk is bare. The ugly woman i share an office with has brightly colored, motivational posters on her wall. She is dumb. She gets excited for casual Fridays, brings donuts on Tuesdays and cares about her job. If we had a window she would see that the world is ending and stop caring about stupid things.
i am done with work by noon. It is not as much work as some people get done but it is more than others do. There is a man in accounting who does no work at all. He keeps a pile of papers on his desk, but they are fakes. Two people could do everything we need to do in accounting and there are five of us, he told me once over after-work drinks. He is a smart man. He probably knows that the world is ending. His desk is next to a window.
When i am done working i e-mail people that i used to know. Tom was my roommate in college, we both got art degrees. He is a successful painter now. He lives in Canada. He has been painting landscapes all morning. The world is not ending in Canada.
Jane is my ex-girlfriend. She is angry that i am e-mailing her. i cheated on her and i am an asshole and she hates me. She lives in Texas. The world is not ending in Texas.
i am tired of e-mails. They are making me sad and guilty and jealous. They are killing me.
i get up and leave the suffocating room. As i walk to the bathroom i avoid the windows, seeing people dieing in the streets would just make me more jealous. In the bathroom i sit on the ash gray toilet and play solitaire on my cell phone. I move the cards from stack to stack for over an hour. My win rate is up to ninety-three percent of games. i am not sure how i feel about this.
When i head back to my office Samantha steps in my way. She is a pretty girl with brunette curls and green eyes. Beards are against corporate dress code, she tells me, like she has told me every day for the past month.
i’ll shave tonight. It is the same lie i always tell. i make sure to give her a big smile when i say it, the way i always do.
She rolls her eyes and says, right. She will ask me to shave again tonight after we have sex. She doesn’t want to have to write me up. She loves me. That is what she always says in those sweaty post coital moments. i always say it back, but it is a lie. She is easy to lie to. She is a dumb girl.
i get back to my desk and stare at a blank screen. The clock is broken. An eternity passes between each movement of the minute hand. After fifteen eternities i have had enough.
i fantasize about taking the elevator upstairs to my boss’s office. His secretary, a plastic woman, would tell me i need an appointment but i would go in anyways. You are killing me, I would tell him. This place is killing me and you are helping it. Security would escort me out of the building.
But that is not right. That would be exciting. Exciting things do not happen here. Instead i take the elevator down stairs and just leave.
When I step outside I am greeted by grey rain drops gently kissing my face and hands. “Hello,” the rain drops seem to whisper “we’ve missed you.”
The sun is hidden behind grey clouds. The buildings are grey. The streets are grey. It is beautiful. I had it all wrong, I realize. The world is not ending outside. The world is ending inside.
“One Last Adventure”
Poke-Poems #19-20
“Rattata”
with an ever stone in one paw
and a pidgey skull in the other
i finally climbed the ranks
to the top ten percent
“Raticate”
They say I’m washed up
A shadow of my former glory.
I have put on some weight,
I’ll confess,
And I no longer dye my fur purple.
But I’m coming out of retirement
Just this once
To show these kids how a true champ
Uses super fang.
RE: Legend of Korra
Dear Internet,
Amon is not the cabbage guy. That is ridiculous. He also isn’t the cabbage guy’s son. That is also ridiculous.
Amon is actually a cabbage. It’s so obvious.
Love,
Jake
For When Someone Keeps Pooping on the Toilet Seat
Great for when you are living in a college dorm or for when you are potty training a child/highly intelligent pet.
Writing Vs. Editing
Writing makes me feel like
I am worth something,
I am a productive human being,
An artist,
A part of the world,
Things will turn out okay.
Editing makes me feel like
Hanging myself.
Album Project: Elliott Smith-XO
I’ve listened to this album a half dozen times now, trying to review it. I feel like a proper review needs to have criticism of some kind and I still can’t find anything in this album that warrants criticism. The only big problem I’d had with Smith’s previous albums was how they were produced (mixing issues, track placement, etc.) but Smith’s switch to a major label seemed to have solved those. The addition of other musicians added some new personality to Elliott’s consistent style. The album was just as strong if not stronger than his previous albums lyrically. While most of the songs were still the expected guitar/vocal driven music, the album breaks away enough to avoid becoming boring. There just really isn’t anything I felt could be done better on this album. Like I said before I don’t like these kinds of ”Oh my God this is so good you guys” reviews but I what else can I do?
Favorite Tracks: Waltz #2, and Everybody Cares, Everybody Understands
Least Favorite Track: Pitseleh
Poke-Poems #16-18
“Pidgey”
he may not look it
but Pidgey’s
a hell of a street fighter
that mean fucker
won’t hesitate
to throw sand in your eyes
doesn’t give a shit
about honor
he’s got no time for it
“Pidgeotto”
Many foes
have fallen
to his
razor talons.
But today
he’ll meet
his match
-car window.
“Pidgeot”
Long hair blowing,
In wing generated wind,
He cries, triumphant.
