tomorrow night

tomorrow night will you remember what you said tonight?  tomorrow night will all the thrill be gone?  tomorrow night will it be just another memory?  or just another song that's in my heart to linger on?

your lips are so tender.  your heart is beating fast.  and you willingly surrender to me but, darling, will it last?  tomorrow night will you be with me when the moon is bright?  tomorrow night will you say those lovely things you said tonight?

so, if, and this if is like the sperm whale of ifs, if a person, let's say a young man, glimpsed the future, not to see the end's catalyst or trapped folks screaming on a tumbling bridge, but the scenario that he was to find himself let's say 18 months post-pre-cognizant-vision.  He might be troubled by what is glimpsed. If he's partial to his current lover, then he's gut-punched to see her life tangled with another man's and dried out by seeing his life overlapping with a different woman, perhaps the lady at work who digs british invasion bands.   the importance and pay of his job have not inflated.  his apartment is the same, but more neglected and messier by a measurement of a year and a half.  physically, he will not be statuesque.  his stomach has spread to meet every corner of his shirt.  his head hair population has largely emigrated to his apartment's carpet and his shower's drain pipe.

he returns to the present and looks at his life the way a third party member looks at donkey-elephant democracy.  his candidate is relatable, his platform persuasive and realistic, and they are each a lost cause.

eighteen months later he's done caught up and he's allowed the prophecy to fulfill itself.  the woman he had loved is an acquaintance, a dark memory like a long play on a drowsy night.  the new one feels right, she feels like the woman he ought to know.  he's gotten good at his job; wise in its lore, suave in its performance.  he hasn't noticed the weight gain and he's become taken with the wearing of beanies.  even the vision he had had is like an R-rated movie snuck into as a child and revisited with a more sophisticated interpretation.

your lips are tender.  your heart is beating fast. and you willingly surrender to me but, darling, will it last?  tomorrow night will you be with me when the moon is bright?  tomorrow night will you say those lovely things you said tonight?

In the 9 pm walk

Arent you tire...so tired
walking off like that
like honey equals sexy times,
sloshing through and captive,
have you figured,
or asked
certain things, oh certain things,
give it up sometime

in heat of all nights...

Could it be, as you trip over your tongue in eagerness to confess, that waiting til you meet the Boatman was waiting too long?

I'll confess to occasional aggressive driving.

You always pay for cheap whiskey twice.

I am so fucking tired of being tipped a percentage. What the hell does it matter to me if you order three pizzas or one? It's the same address, the same traffic, the same bumbling through the dark peering futilely out of my fogged window because someone didn't turn on their porch light.

Or because some genius put black cast iron numbers against a brown facade. Or because I was given an address that didn't exist in the worst part of town.


Lies. It was all a pack of lies, and they're the type that move too quickly to be outrun.

-love mitch olson

Whaling Ploys

to tani

in the other bed we'll see it out.
playing, cramming on the soft cool side,
and english afternoon, in Hoboken -
We're at a loss for undercracked,
menthol breaks, mustard stains,
and all the polished aftermath,
whistling pail and humble

Believing a version of the truth

hello,

so i drove to chicago a couple days ago to see Modus. It was for the Chicago Underground Film Festival. The car itself isnt doing that grand and it kind of sputtered here and there. I'll get it fixed tomorrow.

Tanya is going to Alaska for a while. Thats nice for her, she's a good egg.

It rained all the way back from chicago and it was scary for a while. couldnt see anything. Nicole said 'thank god' when the rain let up. i think she meant it in a literal way. maybe not. either way i didnt say anything. I didnt want to jinx it.

Then i went to a graduation party in Newton after i didnt get home till almost seven. It was cool though. i slept at Tanya's parents house for a minute or two hundred forty. then i ate some sandwiches and cheetos and drank ten soda's.

House Of Will is available for download at the low price of 5.00.

its alright. its going to be alright.

goodnight everyone
sean

Last Night!

Thanks to everyone who came out to Frank's last night. It was blustery.

Good music and reading. fun times.

The tornado last night leveled a bunch of houses in Eagle. It just so happens Eagle is pretty close to where i grew up in the town of La Grange. Everyone seems OK. Its strange to think i'll remember that night for that, what i was doing, who i was with.

You have to wonder what you'll remember.

New circulars came out this week. Email your mailing addy for FREE subscription.

Magic Power

Watch your libido and your bank account swell up.  Learn to find soul-explodingly rollicking coitus so boring that you count the stacks of money on your nightstand to keep your eyes open.  Swindle your friends into selling doofuses sacks of chemical powder that come only in bulk and lead to serious health problems.

I love coffee.  I have been on a coffee bender for several weeks now.  When I was broke, I'd drink it all night because it was free.  When I was even broker, I used to dump sugar in it because it was free nutrients.  Now that I'm all but broke instead of just broke, I drink it every morning, every afternoon and all but all nights.  It's that good.  It has imposed a chemical dependency on me and I'm tired whenever I don't have it. Working two jobs, I couldn't write or read or do many of the other things I like to do in the hours that are not listed on my check stubs if it weren't for that lovely bean.  This post would never have been born if it weren't for that bean.  You are reading the consummate child of coffee and dicking around.

I first learned of Magic Power Coffee on MSNBC, where it was reported that the FDA was issuing a warning that the product has been shown to cause dangerously low blood pressure.  Their logo sums it up: a heart-shaped steaming coffee mug, the world's first aphrodisiac coffee blend.  It makes men "perform harder" and gives them "enhanced confidence" and "improved endurance."  For any of you people who happen to be women, there is finally a product out there to increaser your libido, that gives you a "stimulating buzz" and "multiple releases."

The best part about Magic Power Coffee is that it can only be bought in bulk from an MPC Associate.  Once you do that, you yourself become an MPC Associate and the amount of money you can earn as such is practically limitless, both positively and negatively.  Every new Associate is placed in  3x9 Matrix.  Fill up that Matrix and you can earn $25,000 per month, for selling a product that practically sells itself.

Experience in my life so far has lead me to devalue many words that once were great sultans of imagination for me.  "Evil" is one of those words.  It always made stories better when someone was evil.  The Nazis in Indiana Jones were evil, the Sheriff of Notingham was evil, etc.., etc.  I don't mean to baby my readers and pretend that I have something to tell them about the existence of evil.  It's either something you believe in or you don't.  It's a magic word like "love" or "God" or even "magic" that, whether or not you believe in it, has a conation that cannot be spelled in letters.  I don't believe in a thing such as absolute evil.  One person hurts another for a reason, and that reason is rarely, if ever, pure malevolence.

It is possible that something could happen that will change my mind about evil, but this is getting off the point.  The Magic Power Coffee people aren't evil, but they are smart enough to realize that foolish ideas can be profitable.  Theirs is a grandly foolish idea because it combines two great Western goals into one self-sustaining bug zapper.  Get laid and get rich at the same time.  Maybe these are actually the same thing in the end.

The people that buy this stuff are more of a mystery to me than the people who invented it.  The name "Magic Power "is an admiringly conspicuous promise of attaining the unattainable.  The minds who calculate the purchasing of a gram of unobtainium for a bargain price as the solution to any problem in their life are completely obscure to me as I attempt to x-ray them with my writers imagination.  I can't do it and so, I'm going to keep working on it.  I probably just need a run or a cup of coffee or a hit of something to get me there.  Anybody selling?