Archives For 77 Words About Nothing

77 Words | 02.20.2012

February 20, 2012 — Leave a comment

When you’ve spent as much time as I have cleaning up spilled coffee and steak sauce, it’s the little things that you really begin to appreciate.

Stuffing shells, smelling empty bourbon bottles, buying books,

and burying your blues.

It’s the easy things like these that begin to define your time when you don’t know what else to do with it.

Filling notebooks with jibberish because empty pages are depressing;

and people seem to like jibberish.

Don’t they?

Milling around the capital on an overcast Sunday afternoon we leaned against government buildings, petting every dog that walked past while scouring the ground for cigarettes that still had some life left.My mind was meandering-had been all day- and about three conversations entered and quickly exited my ears.

It wasn’t that I wasn’t interested in what was being said.

I was so interested that I couldn’t keep up.

But back then everything amazed me.

People. Thoughts. Ideas.


77 Words 01.23.2012

January 23, 2012 — Leave a comment

I don’t even like The Pixies, days of unrest, televised spelling bees, or whatever else you think I may.

I don’t know what I like.

But your opinions of me are thought through less than your decision to dine on Grape Nuts, hard-boiled eggs, and cole slaw.

Third course,

Mind field,

Battered horse,

Penetrable shield.

Limitless won’t accomplish…

Limitless won’t know…

Limitless had his head cut off by … Limitless.

Strand yourself on your own fictitious stranded plot.

77 Words (1.14.2012)

January 15, 2012 — Leave a comment

Everywhere he went –

“Keep the change”

Little to no explanation

and little to no response was given by any of the involved parties.

“Keep what change?” must’ve floated through any of the recipient’s heads.

It was preposterous.

No change is possible when something is paid for with plastic.

But then they might’ve gone thinking.

Digging for a deeper meaning to what could’ve been a simple statement from a delusional man.

But maybe not.

“Keep what change?” indeed.


77 Words (1.11.2012)

January 11, 2012 — Leave a comment

Such a contrast

between the crowded amusement park of reality


the desolate piece of land that was once the site of giant ferris wheels, carousels, and cotton candy stickied kids.

Its’s hard not to get stuck in the turnstiles between life and what may be/have been.

But stuck there isn’t scary.

Or lonely.

It’s not beautiful.

Or disastrous.

At the end of whatever your day is

you kick it off  your soles before you step inside.


77 Words (1.09.2012)

January 10, 2012 — Leave a comment

He said that something happened over the weekend.

It wasn’t massive.

But it was an epiphany.

His feet were metaphorically cleansed.

He shouted for those near and far that misery revealed itself as temporary.

Claiming that the gloom and doom that had clung to his dailies like pollen on lungs

had slowly evaporated.

His mostly cloudy countenance suddenly revealed a clearing in the sky and all of the sad songs had reversed their meaning.

Except ‘Tonight’s the Night’

He’s been coughing a lot lately.

And he kind of hopes that it’s something serious.

Like something that could really put him out for a while.

His lungs feel inflamed

and his throat…

it’s scratchy and scaly.

Oh to be hobbled…

or humbled he supposes.

Fucking balance beam.

Fucking broken foot.

Fucking cracked equilibrium.

With a broken face and a chipped stem he went to find the most serene places he knew.

They were all short visits.

77 Words (1.05.2012)

January 5, 2012 — Leave a comment

Who would have ever thought that ‘dirt nap’ would start to serve up a romantic connotation?

He said that there was no explanation.

No deep ceded reason.

He had no desire to search for a psychosomatic meaning.

Simply put, he would say-

The thought 0f resting my head on the soft earth beneath our feet is very calming.


And after that, there was no talk.

He just sat there taking deep breaths and inhaling the air.

Sometimes I get upset over the stupidest shit.

I think to myself-

how the fuck did my glasses get so dirty?


Why in the hell am I so tired?

Why is this dude driving so slow?

Stupid shit like that.

But it’s pointless.


Sometimes I feel like I need a pill to control those feelings


to answer those stupid questions.

Or maybe just to calm me down.

“Your Mother Loves You”

No matter what.

Last year I chipped my two front teeth.

On a watch face.

New battery in place,

I fumbled around with the back of the watch that was supposed to somehow save my soul

But I just couldn’t find the groove.

I pressed gently.

I punched and pounced gingerly.


Clamping down with the force of my mouth would have to work.


Chips flew.

Must be cracking the crystal.

Stubborn bastard.

More chips.


My tongue’s bleedin’.