Cigarette Burn Girl
I'm a superhero who burns people with cigarette butts. I only burn people who are already having a bad day so they can blame me for it, that's why I'm a hero. When I am done burning people I sit down and I cross my legs and I wink, sometimes I eat a cookie. When I stay home the world gets cranky. I have a nemesis. His name is Hank. Read all about me! Cigarette Burn Girl!
Monday, May 30, 2011
Friday, February 11, 2011
Are there places in you like a beehive that throb and buzz?
I can feel the insects trying to escape me
Like a horse trying to swim
My heart twists like an oreo
Are there places in you like a pair of lungs that shrink and expand?
I can feel my breath trying to escape me
Like a turtle trying to flip
My heart sinks like a bathtub toy
Are there places in you like a robot that jerk and twitch?
I can feel the ghost trying to enter me
Like pushing a stroller up a hill
My heart breaks like a kit-kat bar
Are there places in you that hurt like a small funeral?
I can feel my love trying to scream out
Like a baby falling out of its crib
My heart tears like a piece of aluminum foil
Where are you?
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
By the time we got to the house it was dark. She served up microwaved curry meatloaf and pink wine. I toasted: to the inevitable gloom that is our nights. And so we heard the blizzard roaring outside and the smoke from my Hopscotches made a cozy nest beside my head as we feathered out the rest of the evening, saying one thing, meaning the other.
Finally, it was time to ask her: Did you ever sign an autograph for a man named Victor Vandido? And who can forget a name like that.
"I vaguely remember him. He had eyes like an abused coyote and his favorite number was six. He showed up with a large plastic man with shrunken elephant ears and a little pink round fellow about three weeks ago."
Thursday, January 27, 2011
A neverending bad day for you.
Monday, January 24, 2011
"You better be careful," he told me quickly, "I saw Hank going into the men's room earlier. I think the pink fellow is here too, what's his name?"
"Seems like business is good."
"Oh yeah," he said, "Just look at the celebrities!" he pointed at the wall behind him which contained photos of most of the cast of Everyday Heros, a show about firemen. "Oh sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to insult you."
"Have you seen this man?" I said, showing him Victor Vandido's driver's license.
"No, I think I would remember him. Curious, does he have a face?"
"He won't when I'm done with him."
"I'll have wine. Blue." (fictional world)
Just then, Hank stumbled out of the men's room onto the dance floor, his plastic feet sliding on the spilled beer. Mr. Flup hurried over to offer him a shoulder, causing both of them to tip over. To my utter surprise, Hank began weeping. The crowd formed a circle around him as he pointed directionless into the air screaming "I'll get you, Vandido!" I snuck out the back, reflecting on the night's events. Was it possible that Victor Vandido was insulting Hank with his kind words? And if Hank and I had a common enemy, would that make us friends? I briefly thought of kissing Hank on the ear before stopping to burn a cat in a tree.