Richard had always had a normal life, until that day when he met those teenagers.
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Normals
Posted by Christopher Malmsten at 3:36 PM 0 comments
Thursday, December 10, 2009
I'm Waiting for Motivation II
Get up from there.
Why don’t we just get our backpacks on and we’ll head to school.
We could sit in corners and laugh at everyone else that isn’t us because
Look at what they’re missing. Just get up, you, ya scoundrel.
Your backyard is warmer is than inside, somehow.
But your grass is splotchy . The bench in your garden has broken
in half and it’s going to take more than haphazard Elmer’s to get us on our feet.
Great. Fifty feet and we’re back on our spines under
a fort of couches and linens. Let’s pretend that rules
don’t apply and that holes in the fabric are huge stars
and we can hide from our problems.
Just get up, you, ya scoundrel.
Sure, we could drive around for hours and waste your week’s gas in one night.
We tend to nothing a lot, don’t we? Filling, dead air with its hot counterpart.
We would try something different today as we sat in your car.
We could talk about your subtle comments and my snide remarks.
Look at us. Look at what everyone else is missing.
Just get up, you, ya scoundrel.
At one point, one of us will feel like actually doing something,
But the other will have been iron on to the leather seats
of your Sedan by rays of nonchalance.
“Why can’t life be like as easy as fucking Marmaduke?
Why can’t I have as few worries as him?
Why don’t people chase me when I runaway from me?”
And you’d turn your DGAF head towards me and say
“Why don’t we play the Quiet game. Ready. Go.”
Posted by Christopher Malmsten at 9:47 PM 0 comments
Sunday, November 29, 2009
The Oven Loves All of His Children
Great job. You've filled the room with smoke.
It wasn't my fault. I actually wanted those cookies
as a matter of fact. You however, seemed to want
to destroy the little procreations of Gingerbread
Land, burning them, sending them to the hell they
all feared when they read their gingerbread bibles.
Nowhere in the gingerbread bibles
did it predict that their only fate was to become smoke-
particles and then rise to the ceiling as they would all
scream for purgatory. They promised to be good cookies
that would help the homeless of Gingerbread
Land, doing whatever their Ovengod wanted.
You stopped everyone from doing what they wanted:
Their plans of initiating a bible
study group. Going to the Gingerbread
Tropics to refrost houses that went up in smoke
the last time you burned a tribe of cookies.
Now the gingerbread neighbors have to start all
over again, tending to the mourning wives of all
the decadent sinners, the delinquents' parents that only wanted
what was best for their crispy children, and the cookie-
orphans of rum-soaked transgressors that never read the bible
to the children, but rather blew smoke
into their gumdrop eyes. Tragedies among men of Gingerbread.
The mayor of this anguished Gingerbread
Land called a town meeting today in honor of the neighbors they
had lost. They began to lose faith in the Ovengod who smoked
cigars. He had let them down and ignored what they wanted
and asked for: to be normal and crunchy and delicious. They
decided to keep devotion to Him as a sad community of cookies.
Tomorrow, as the exhaust clears, this community of cookies
will go on as it had the day before, with gingerbread
picket-fences, and everyone will study their sugary bibles
boasting that the next time there's a catastrophe, they
will be saved from the fiery fate. They claim to not want
to sent to the burners, but act as if they live off smoke.
They can only hope that if you try to make cookies, you'll think about how they
just want to have a normal, happy, Gingerbread neighborhood. Also, they want
crispier bibles, and they really, really don't want to go to a hell of smolder and smoke.
Posted by Christopher Malmsten at 9:00 PM 0 comments
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
I'm Waiting for Motivation
You've got to get up. We've got nowhere to go.
Posted by Christopher Malmsten at 9:35 PM 0 comments
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Fall I
It doesn't take much for you to become something else. You look back later, and you say, not that you won't become that person again, but that you hated that person that you became.
Posted by Christopher Malmsten at 2:02 PM 0 comments
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
My Favorite Bro
I look, I stare, I wince. Your face is sad.
Posted by Christopher Malmsten at 1:01 PM 0 comments