Masculinity: Anthony Bourdain

Anthony Bourdain, a time-aged bad-boy with a devil-may-care attitude and a healthy bite of sarcasm, eats his way around the world.

20121214: ink, practice, weather, university, caterpillar, waiter

A Bleeding Sestina in Blue

I sit in a cafe chair doodling on a paper napkin in blue ink. It is warm, and it is sunny, and I could use some practice being well-adjusted and happy about life, about good weather. I'm at the French bistro near the university, feeling like the notoriously hungry, hungry caterpillar, impatiently waiting for the cafe waiter.

Here he comes, the much awaited waiter.

20121213: elastic, parent, stand, curl

I won't ever doubt my role as a parent to my daughter, a spouse to my wife, or a friend to my mate. But whenever I brush the golden, elastic curls on my little girl's head, suspiciously like those on my best mate's, I can't stand the creeping thought that my friend's best mate, my wife's lover, and my daughter's father might not be me.

To the list of other pieces inspired by random words.

i dream in technicolor

I ride in the backseat of a vintage car with creme leather interior and an exterior painted in the most retro powder blue imaginable. It's a blue so dated that it feels like we could just disappear into the spotless sky on the horizon as we drive down this stretch of long flat desert road. With the windows open, the dry air whips my long black hair as we tear through the rising heat of the pavement.

We pull into the parking lot of a brick motel. The red "MOTEL" sign juts up into the sky like a beacon.

20121130: strategy, sieve

Had I had a strategy I would've poisoned you slowly, built up your tolerance, gotten you hooked. I should have refined my feelings, sifted them with the sugar through the sieve and given you a little bit everyday in your morning coffee, but instead I laid it all in front of you, unrestrained, raw, and burning. Had I had a strategy I would've never known that you were already hopelessly addicted.

To the list of other pieces inspired by random words.

a shitty emo poem

alone.

shadowed
heart,
i
tear
through
you.

every
memory
overflows,

pulses
out,
eradicates
me.

20121128: laugh, cocktail

I know it the moment you laugh, covering your braced teeth with your milky cocktail, our relationship will be like them: a late start and achingly painful but potentially perfect.

To the list of other pieces inspired by random words.