before my very eyes

I was waiting in the drive-thru 
at my local Mickey D's
trying not to honk 
at the cars in front of me
I need a mocha shake
I need a quarter pounder, boss
I needs double cheese 
and a quart of secret sauce
as I pulled to the street, man,
much to my surprise
stood a homeless man
right before my very eyes

     he said
     mister can you help me?
     my family needs some food
     I've been holding this cardboard sign
     up and down the avenue
     from the ass-crack of dawn
     to the setting of the sun
     and nobody's cared to help me
     mister, will you be the one?

thanksgiving haiku

food in my belly
a warm place where I can live
life is very good

Because I'm free!

I have five -- count 'em, five -- days off. Thanksgiving and all that. I'm so thankful for these days off. This working at a public school gig is just too fuckin' much sometimes. Pisses me off.

But let's not talk about that now, man. Because I'm free!

That's pretty wonderful, farmboy. What are you going to do?

I'm gonna stay at my brother's for a couple days and babysit my niece so my brother and his wife can go out and celebrate her birthday (which is today).

Other than that I don't know. I'll probably keep reading the Neil Young memoir. Maybe I'll write a song. That's what I really want to do.

Maybe you will. I hope I can hear it.

You'll be the first, man.

big used book sale

big used book sale
proceeds to the library 
three books, three dollars

I can't afford this
I am ashamed of myself
for lack of control

but knowing inside
that it's really no big deal

but also knowing
three dollars add up

Bone and blood and language

How are you doing, farmboy, with what we talked about yesterday?

Okay. It's hard. I feel like I'm betraying what I believe in by not bowing down to my OCD-ness, or whatever you want to call it. And that's fuckin' bullshit, man. This is my life, my beliefs. It's like I want to say to this fuckin' condition this does not belong to you.

You know, man, not that it matters...

Which of course means that it does matter...

I just wanted to clarify that I don't look down on atheism. It's not for me, but it's also not my place to judge anyone on their beliefs. It's none of my business.

I don't know, man. I think about this stuff all the fuckin' time.

I know, farmboy.

And, let me explain...fuck, man, I always wind up feeling weired if I discuss my beliefs with people. I end up feeling guilty, but, fuck, I'm just this human guy trying to make the most out of my feeble efforts at understanding. I'm just a man, you know? Bone and blood and language. You know? So , listen, what I'm thinking...

Listen, farmboy. You don't have to justify your spiritual life to me or anybody else.

It's just between me and God?

It's what you want. You make the rules.

Wow.

Sign of the cross

This is hard, man. I need to explain to you what this feels like, the withdrawals I'm going through.

What happened, farmboy? Did you decide to quit smoking marijuana?

No. Something else. And right now I'm in the fuckin' midst of it.

And?

I have this problem, man, that I think I've probably mentioned. So to put labels on parts of my life, I'm, like, a major in obsessive/compulsive disorder with an emphasis in religion. It's called scrupulosity. And it's a motherfucker, I'll tell you what.

So there's this thing, this obsession with the sign of the cross. It's fuckin' multifaceted, man. Anyway...this is really weird man, I don't talk about praying. 'Cause it's a private thing and it's nobody's business. It's just me and God. And that's all the detail I'll go into on that. 

So this one, well, I end my prayers with the sign of the cross every night. And that's when the "inappropriate thoughts" come. But I can't stop, you know. It can get real bad. I can't believe I'm telling you this stuff.

So...I just said my prayers and I decided to not perform the sign of the cross. And it's fuckin' driving me crazy, man, it's like the world's worst itch and I'm not allowing myself to scratch it. 

I feel like "Oh my God! I've become an atheist!" And I'm not! I'm...I'm just not a Catholic anymore.

Man, I feel like I'm fuckin' evil right now.

But you're not, farmboy. You know that, don't you?

I don't know, man.

Don't feed into this, farmboy. You have your spirituality, you have your beliefs, you have your...

Faith?

Faith.

I'm not any different than I was before?

You're still the same farmboy. You're just finally standing up to a church that doesn't fit you and a disorder that forces you to distrust yourself all the time.

You're a brave guy, farmboy.

I hope so. That's the way God made me.

Musicland

So there's all this fuckin' drama going on at work and I'm just trying to stay out of it all. Let me do my work -- and I do a good job -- and let everything stay at work. When I get home, I want to come home to Musicland, you know? Like it's its own little country, with melodies and words and harmonies and stuff.

Sounds nice, farmboy. Sounds like paradise.

It is. You've got that right. 

This creativity thing, I really want to encourage it. 'Cause I still don't feel like I have a right to do this.

"This" being songwriting, I presume.

Yeah. Which is fuckin' ridiculous. It's like I don't get to take myself seriously. It's like, who the hell do I think I am, trying to think that what I say has a right to exist. Even if it's only to myself.

That's incredibly sad, farmboy.

Ain't it? It's really fucked, man. And mostly, it's just plain fuckin' wrong.

So you need to fight it.

And, believe me, I am. That's what my whole life has been about.