Love ya
If I disappeared today, only the people I met in the last few days would care. I don't care. I'll pop all the buttons out of this keyboard and eat them. I'll bolt trucks to this keyboard and skate down the road.


I'll dance, Sweetie, if you let me pick the tune.
One time my brother was standing in front of a friend's house with some other guys. They were out there fooling around, and a friend pulled up in his old Volkswagen Bug. The thing was pretty beat - it sputtered and stalled all the time, it had rust holes, and it smoked because of all the oil it was burning. It barely ran. My brother and his friends proceeded to joke on the guy and his car mercilessly. The joke bombardment reached its climax - my brother challenged the guy to a race - the home boy, in his beat old bug and my brother, on foot – they would race only to the corner – the length of two lots - two houses down - for money of course. It seems illogical to challenge a man to a race – you on foot, he, in his car, therefore the betting was frenzied, like before the freakin Kentucky Derby or something. There was a stack of money on the hood of another nearby car when all the wagering was closed. The racers began preparing themselves. My brother hopped up and down, looking around, smiling at everybody. The dude went to the back of his car, to the engine – tinkered around a little. Well, they got on their marks, they got set and they went. They were off. The bug sputtered, it jolted forward, it started to choke and it paused. My brother had already taken six powerful strides and was in the lead. The bug driver found his clutch’s friction point and gave the finicky engine just the right dose of gas, and the bug came up to speed – not evenly. The power of machine over man became apparent, even in this absurd little vehicle – the bug began closing the gap fast with that stupid little roar that Volkswagen Bugs make - the bug was closing in on my brother fast. My brother was only fifteen meters from the corner by this point – and still accelerating. My bro was fast and wirey, and he had long legs. He had killer acceleration for a long-legged guy, and once he was up to speed, fuckin forget it. Nobody in the neighborhood raced him anymore. Anyway, the bug was five feet behind my brother when my brother passed the edge of the corner lot and strode out into the intersection and began to slow down. He'd won. Everybody started yelling and screaming. My brother went back to collect his winnings.


young fool
so soon
an old fool
quiet in a loud room