Category: original content

sitzfleisch

A poem.

isolation with my lover is a dogfight of disposition.
who can get to the tv first?

i imagine a future with no internet
and being lost on the couch in her world.
why dont we do something,
anything else?
im too tired for anything else, she cries,
making sure the neighbors hear who is in charge.

i imagine a future with no electricity
and she is lost in the covers of her own despondent world.
why dont we do something,
anything else?
im too depressed for anything else, she moans
making sure to spread her piteousness
on the burnt, black toast of my indifference.

i imagine a future where she is gone
and the lights inside are permanently dimmed
and i am sitting outside by myself in the quiet of natures dawn.
i am reading.
soon ill be reeling.
i would rather have someone than no one.

//jf 6.10.2020

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3517

A micro-story.

the enormity of life confronts us all. i stand before a wall that separates me from my better half. this wall stretches the imagination, and i am alone. like a scrapbook it is covered in photos of people i knew; who i had lost; who had lost me. but as my bare toes sink in to the warm sand, i am not afraid. i am full of love. with a gentle push, this wall comes tumbling down. and the blue sky above me no longer splits across its middle but extends into the horizon, where a still blue ocean sits below and the sound of waves crashing rests miles away. i am in my happy place: a cove, a short swim around an inlet on oahu. any time i would visit, there wouldn’t be another living soul: like i was the first. in truth it was inconvenient enough for the kids and the families, but we were not the first. no one can be the first: not anymore. i sit in reverence to those who came before me, whose drawings are carved along the cavern walls. drawings that tell a story: one with layers, a new one uncovered with every visit.

//jf 6.6.2020

 

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the middle ground

themiddleground_try1

The second entry in the “Shotgun Room” trilogy. For mature readers.

“A family with a tragic history tries to survive during a global food crisis.”

The world is a hard place: hard ground; hard life. We are all tethered by gravity. When the government officially announced the start of a new phase of food production, some people wished they could defy it and simply float away. No one was prepared for the food shortages, other than the Preppers; but they had bugged-out long ago, holed-up in their compounds with whoever they had decided to allow entry. Climate change had permanently affected crop growth and no new wheat was being produced. No flour; no bread. Milk was a premium reserved for those who still owned viable cattle and even then, reproduction levels had severely decreased and no owner was sure their herd had been affected. It was simply too soon to tell. That was the consensus from the Men In Suits: “We are still working on a solution to the problem, and we assure you that we are doing everything in our power to ensure the future survival of mankind.” The broadcast from one of Virgin Galactic’s completed shuttlecraft took a week to breach the atmosphere and by then, the chaos had already run its course. Crime in the major metropolitan areas was at an all-time high. Seniors and the weak either starved-to-death from isolation or were home-invaded for supplies, or worse. The titular shotgun was stolen from the hospital and used in a shooting spree. There were even reports that some had resorted to cannibalism, as more-and-more half-mangled bodies with teeth marks and handkerchief-thin slices carved out had been popping up all over the city. An alternative had to be found, and it wasn’t Soylent Green.

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Jay’s Take: The Call of the Wild Double Feature

Two movie reviews.

callofthewild

I hate CGI. I know it, you know it. I love animals, especially doggos. I hate CGI animals. What is it about animal movies these days where you can get an experienced wrangler and real animals but instead they cheap-out and generate everything in a computer? Has it gotten to the point where we need to be making movies where cute animals are subjected to such unimaginable hardships that the only way to film it is to fake it? Are we scared for the animals themselves? The actors? THE PRODUCERS’ INVESTMENT? We all know Lindsay Lohan is expensive to insure: what if you made a movie where Lindsay Lohan played Jane Goodall and went into the middle of the wood with a bunch of living apes to shoot one of those handheld iPhone movies? FORGET IT. You would have better luck posting your movie to YouTube to watch for free let alone wide distribution in the slowest audience-attendance period of the theatrical year. Hollywood is cheap and stingy, and if something works then they will do that thing into the foreseeable future until a cheaper alternative is found. They found their alternative in CGI. Soon you won’t even need mo-cap actors because there will be cyborgs who do a better job of imitating Carrie Fisher than her own daughter. SOON YOU WON’T NEED ACTORS AT ALL. It’ll all be dead people, vomited-up from the grave and reconstituted on IBMs. Plus side: you could then get the dead animal actors such as ALL THE DOGS from ALL THE PREVIOUS FILMED ADAPTATIONS of Jack London’s book and reanimate them and have an unscripted reunion special on HBO. Invite the holograms of the original Benji and Old Yeller while you’re at it. Live animal wrangling for film is looked-down on in today’s world the same as those who perform in the circus and it looks like it may completely go the way of the dodo, like puppetry (if the dour and pointless Dark Crystal prequel on Netflix right now is anything to go by. LOW DIG).

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another day in paradise

A poem for Proxy Paige.

beneath a muted dutch overcast,
the blackout curtains over the studio window are drawn.
she leans on her side, naked,
flanked by messy cream sheets,
her hard brown eyes fixed toward the maze of streets.
he could ask her anything.
he wanted to know how she wanted to get fucked.

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