I TRIED TO
TAKE A PICTURE
OF THE MOON
BECAUSE IT
WAS SO BIG
OR THE MATH DRINKERS
There’s nothing to stop this noise that’s there even though this
noise doesn’t stop when it’s there, it’s still there you just can’t
hear it, but it’s not completely silent, otherwise it wouldn’t
be there, the tree in the forest just fell and no one’s there to
hear it so the noise just waits for you to get there so that it
can live.
That’s all noises need is a place to live.
I talked to a girlfriend of mine today and she said she was
driving to school and her passenger side window blew up. At
the same time, I was trying to remember what that song was
called about combusting and I realized that it was actually
an Incubus song and then felt really lame. Before combusting the window made no sound, no little sad noises to let her
know it was going to explode, it just exploded next to her. She
talked about pulling pieces of glass out of her ponytail and
then talked about how it could have like completely destroyed
her face and then talked more. I got stuck thinking about the
little glass pieces in her hair. I’m not sure there’s a big connection here but I keep thinking about this and then thinking
about the destruction of my most current relationship. The
sentence I really wanted to write was this, “what is it like to
completely destroy someone else,” but I felt like that belonged
on the cover of Cosmo. I also had other ways I wanted to
say that same thing but couldn’t figure out if I really wanted
to say “ what is it” or “what it is.” I still can’t figure out if
it’s a question or an explanation. Actually, what I really
wanted to say is that it’s really weird to hurt someone else.
It goes against everything I’ve ever learned about how to
treat people I love and if I think about it too much I convince
myself that there is a hell and I am going there for this. Our
relationship hasn’t made that sound that trains make when
they come to a stop yet, it just sounds like you think you
might hear a train coming but you’re not really sure.
We’re still pulling glass out of our hair.
“No ones watching,” the old man said to himself, “I can let
this go and it’ll be fine, a mere vapor in the wind.”
The man farted, and I heard. We looked into each other’s
eyes and both knew what he’d done.
“Fuck.”
You are at your home
I am going out drinking
With or without you
All I do is drink Diet Coke.
I’m addicted.
In the morning the first thing I do is listen to the hiss of the
cap opening.
Before I go to bed I hear that same hiss, followed by the
lovely coating of fabricated sugar all over my teeth.
Disintegration is sweet.
l show, checking the
10:00 pm: on the freeway to see an awfu
phone and swerving.
a miller lite.
10:20 pm: at the awful show drinking
still but bummed I’m
ds
frien
have
do
I
10:30 pm: happy that
at an awful show, check my phone.
mine calls and gets me
11:00 pm: happy that a girlfriend of
cute now.
out of the show, happy that I dressed
cigarettes, we do.
need
we
if
see
to
11:20 pm: calls again
I don’t even put
and
t
sunse
on
ing
11:30 pm: found park
own sunset blvd.
I
use
beca
l
whee
ing
the club on my steer
checked my phone.
ss thoughts I
11:40 pm: I drink another beer and confe
a really long
for
d
frien
best
her
be
to
had about wanting
y again that I
happ
and
you,
into
ing
time, think about runn
dressed cute.
finally going to be best
11:50 pm: happy that me and her are
friends because we both decided.
free cigarettes, and
12:00 pm: finish our beers, sign up for
n to light up my
butto
the
ed
push
,
them
go outside to smoke
phone.
from long beach and
1:00 am: get stuck talking to some kid
we already hate his face.
t to get rid of the guy
1:10 am: walk to the bar down the stree
a bum a dollar while
but he follows behind chatting, I give
he was hungry.
me
told
he
use
beca
e
looking at my phon
guy is gone but then
h
beac
long
and
beer
a
1:15 am: we share
comes back and sits with us.
de, we meet this girl,
1:35 am: we finish our beer and go outsi
she looks like our triplet.
1:40 am: we are playing mad libs with the triplet girl and we
both want to be her best friend.
1:50 am: a bald guy rubs my arm and says “hey how you
doin” I go “uhhh” for a long time, he goes “well, that’s the line
I always use” I go, “well it’s not a good one, less touching
next time.”
2:00 am: we exchange contact information with the best
friend girl and vow to start a girl band with all keyboards,
we love her we decide.
2:08 am: driving on the freeway to go back home.
2:20 am: get home, wash my face, pick at my face, put lotion
on my face, pee twice.
2:40 am: checked to see if you were online.
3:00 am: imed you but you were away.
3:20 am: you imed me back but said something and then
stopped responding.
3:40 am: texted you.
4:00 am: waited.
4:10 am: texted you again but this time I texted something
like “I hate you I hope all your bones break”
Create a freeness that can’t be escaped, that’s where you’ll find me
Sitting amongst the dirt that came from bits of hair, rust, oil, and paper
Hoping to find the things that make freedom work; always
Don’t stay locked up in freedom’s prison, things last forever there
Just like the dust
meet up but it was
Last night one my girlfriends couldn’t
ng I was going out
drivi
dy
alrea
soul night and since I was
guy who’s 12 years
this
t
abou
ing
either way. I started think
day. I’ve never
birth
same
the
older than me but we share
invites me over
he
ugh
altho
him
celebrated a birthday with
be have known
will
we
year
This
.
the same time every year
and his 31st, my
19th
my
,
total
days
each other for four birth
22nd and his
my
,
33rd
his
and
21st
20th and his 32nd, my
fact that when
the
on
cushi
to
l
detai
d
34th. We use this share
sex, rebound
ort
comf
for
ng
looki
we call each other we are
him.
d
calle
I
night
Last
sex, or “I’m lonely” sex.
getting his first
We met up at a bar and while he was
just kept grabbing
We
d.
secon
my
drink, I was working on
use we were both
beca
them
zing
squee
each other’s arms and
out. When he
ng
turni
were
lives
just so sad about how our
d in with
move
who
iend
girlfr
star
told me about the porn
I feel like
oom.
bathr
his
in
g
sittin
ons
him I pictured her tamp
e
singl
once
a
in
ially
espec
ories
tampons often mark territ
and
her
t
abou
d
talke
We
t.
tmen
apar
o
man’s Echo Park studi
up
ing
light
kept
that
ine
mach
ll
her red hair next to a pinba
my drink on it because
red and blinking, I felt weird resting
and he almost started
him
at
d
looke
I felt like it was rude. I
ing to feel the same
start
was
I
g,
crying so we stopped talkin
kissing. The
ed
start
and
booth
a
way so we ducked into
g our pain;
essin
witn
to
nse
respo
kissing was this knee jerk
we felt
When
.
other
each
ct
prote
to
we were kissing mostly
e
danc
and
room
next
the
to
over
safe we decided to walk
he
h
whic
ly
poor
very
ing
danc
were
with everyone else. We
de
outsi
went
we
,
After
ed.
laugh
I
,
attributed to being white
ng
drivi
and
y
Valle
a
Yucc
t
abou
d
for a smoke and talke
led “meet me at your
alone. I put my head on him and signa
apartment.”
They drank condensed milk
They did not know it was condensed milk
I am bad at math
I still use all my fingers
to calculate shit.
So I was driving home from the atm and the rupert holmes
song “escape” came on. I don’t think I’d ever taken that song
really seriously before, I think it’s always been more of a
bounce in your car while you’re on the freeway song. So
tonight when it came on I spent some time with it, I didn’t
bounce. So this is what I found out: so there’s this guy and
he’s bored with his girlfriend so he decides to respond to
a personal ad. Basically the personal ad is like a guy who
wears white loafers with pale blue shorts’ wet dream. Ok so
it’s a really long drawn out story but in the end he tries to
bone down with the girl from the personal ad but finds out
its his wife, they laugh. The part where they laugh is very
important to the narrative and very much the song’s finale in
my book. He had no clue his wife liked pina coladas, getting
caught in the rain, and was not into yoga, who knew. So basically what I’m saying is that I’ve been thinking a lot about
getting back together with my ex.
If we come into this world wet, in a sack of blood, how must we depart it?
Is the mire that we inhabit through life the same as the sack we enter in?
Does the sack of blood re-enter after we’ve departed?
The external sack of blood becomes our internal sack,
it is something we can never depart from, but do we want to?
Trudging through life carrying this sack of blood, we must be reminded of
our birth, our blind, helpless, pitiful, disgusting birth.
Poems and images by Hannah Racecar and Jesse Hlebo
Made with love over the internet
Swill Children Publication 001
2009