workshopping this

PROLOGUE:

the difference between the lived experience, and the opportunity to experience the world emotionally, separate from the lived experience, aware of the full story, would be a superpower.


SCENE BAR THEN

he says, the heart lives by breaking and breaking

that's hemingway.

i don't know. i think some poet.

EARLIER.

the day starts great and he is hopefull until the open sign goes on.

a sequence of real life tbs customer interactons well told.

after a break up with his girlfriend is confirmed and then when he goes to the roof to bbq there is a party of young people. its a pandemic so he cant go to his bar... or can he.... he goes to the alley behind the bar and one old timer remembers him. he gains entrance and there can be memories or just impressions here.

SCENE BAR NOW

but there is an arguement about his bona fides. which he solves with alomb. except for being punched in the face and no one agreeing with him.

eventually we have 2 conversations. one discusses misfortune, milch, and what life doesnt owe us. the second is practical and involves the fact that he has lost his front tooth and has a staff meeting tommorow a.m.

eventually we come to this:

he offers to replace the tooth. i am skeptical.

he says, what choice you got, son? (from tarantino)

so i follow him back behind the bar, down the graffiti alley

he keeps looking back at me, like im going to run, but i'm in so much pain and i keep trying to imagine how the staff meeting will look in.... 4 hours.

we get to this door, some buttons are pushed.

its downstairs

he has this weird array of teeth and dentures and molds from where i dont know. it's scary. but cool.

he says, can i get you something?

i ask for a beer and then im sat and a beer is there i can even taste it's cold deliciousness but it's just in my hand.

he bends an arm silently over me and a click and i'm lit but it doesnt hurt.

there is a steel rattle that sounds dull and not clean but that's just my paranoia?

so he says, i will find a close match.

he moves away with i feel was excitemtent or a kind of pep.

sidelong i can see a sliver of him canvassing jaws and dentures and molars, biscuspids, and i dont know anymore teeth except wisdom and they take those away from you when you're young, so they cant be a choice right?

he's saying as he looks, you smoke alot.

i get the point but vanity so i say ya i drink black coffee. it gets a little huff.

i will have to stain this. he demonstrates this tooth to me. we havent talked price and that strikes me.

i say, so...

 tk

where do you get teeth?


what is the doctors purpose?

how does he change his appearance?

it cant be the same location each time.



next day.

im up and its awful. the first thing i think is her. and then my face, i touch it and the adrenalin of feeling it's swollen almost softens the onrush of the hangover which is like the opposite of an orgasm.

staff meeting in 20 minutes.

there is always a moment like this in your life.

thank you all for coming

i know it's all really really bad.

but i wish there was more.

sorry.

how well do we know each other

bill was surprised when i referred to him as a good person.

typical day at the shop.

the new kid comes in early with his brand new designer safety boots. i offer him a coffee and he says no he brought his own blend. so he proceeds to take the kettle, walk over to the first till counter, reach down to where we stash the plastic gallon jug of industrial disinfectant, and fills up the kettle. i put down the two cases of short hills i have been holding in the moment and take a step towards him, but then i wait.

he stands up and i say, what's up there fella?

he looks at me and i see this puzzled look, and he i guess maybe then notices the smell or something and he looks at the kettle and then at me.

i say, that's poison. don't poison yourself. i need you on till.

he goes, oh man.

remember our talk.

my head's on straight / my girlfriend's beautiful.

red #1

before downtown

i had a k car. i used to sometimes piss myself getting home. before i knew downtown. it was a long way back every night.

come on baby out of the cold

i love nights like this when i feel like i have the best taste and the comprehension.

can i do this again

take it so hard Keith Richards SNL 1988 rare from Rod Stewart's place on Vimeo.

West Coast

goin back home

him and her.

>we sit together on a patio at a cafe on a grey, october day, under a canvas awning, deep in the lower east side. We drink super stong espressos and say nothing and just watch the people and traffic and rain and sometimes our fingers meet across the little round table, or our legs touch underneath it. And you smoke, and look bored, but i know your mind is always working and i want to know what you're thinking but i stay quiet instead to just watch you. Your legs are crossed, and your bangs are cut short. Your nails are painted the shade of indigo i like best, and you dangle the cigarette like you couldn't care less about anything and in that moment you are perfect and i adore you.

>> I ask you if you'd like a cigarette, but you just motion to have me hand you mine, fiery orange line just past halfway. You take a long drag and put your arm back down, resting your elbow on the back of the chair. Another minute or so passes and I take out another one for myself, you're lost across the table in the smoke, yours now, and staring into the rain clouds. I reach across to gently touch your face, and you reciprocate times two by using your left arm to grab a handful of hair next to my ear and pull my lips into yours. One long deep kiss, we stop, I sit back down, I smile a little and get back to my thoughts.

reflections

howling forever

a constant battering
but soft, like tom toms
kettle drums building
like it is inside you

pogo or titus andronicus
both prove you cant
comment on what's around you
anymore. you think you can.

hail hail
fake worries you judge
yourself, and think yourself
judged. youre not noticed
true true true.

NYC

uncalled for

i dont know what i did. or didnt.
i dont know her number.
i hope she dont know mine
but it hurts like she does,
like she doesn't mind

you get behind things
and they dont win
you get out of time
it gets mean then

you want it like it was
but you know whats what
what happened can't help
what's coming

the game is the game

gone shootin

i stood by myself, leaning against the wall at an empty table set for two. the chairs were gone; a group at the back had taken them to fill out a loose circle. i knew some of the people opposite me, collected inside the fogged up alcove.

most of them were from the hair salon; it was a cutter named jessicat's birthday. i was pretty high when i got there; i'd already been there for a few earlier in the night. some others i sorta knew from around.

it was a good busy; you could move around, but there were no free chairs.

the girl in the ponytail was still there. a big guy was leaning over her, tipping his flat pint over his gut. she'd turn her head and get a glance of me. it seemed like i wobbled each time.

the dj was not impressing me. saturday night in toronto you can't get away with bullshit nineties radio rock. i wanted to kill him, but instead i went outside and got more stoned.

revenge