Thursday, October 20, 2016

Perry Street

Got those urges again
My skin is crawling
Better go out walking
Before I try to make it end

Can't sit still
Can't calm down
Heart beating fast
Sliding off the tracks

Don't want that needle
Don't need that bottle
Keep that pipe away
Drop to my knees and pray

Curled up in a corner on the dirty floor
Staring at the posters on the wall
Someone says they have the answer
If I can just hear the call

They file in and they file out
every hour or so
And I stay on this floor
Because I need more

More hope
More desperation
More shame
More redemption
More pain
More love
More hate
More noise

Someone screams from the third row
And someone in the fifth row says shut the fuck up
The inmates have taken over the asylum 
And no one wants to go
The girl talks about selling herself for her next hit
The cop on the take to feed his habit
The teacher who shot up between classes
And the woman who left her kid in the car
While she turned tricks outside the bar

They all tell their stories
And in between grab smokes in the rain
At 2 a.m. the doors will close
And they'll go home knowing
They got through another night with their pain

Those quiet streets carry those lost souls
As they make their way home
Knowing the beast has been held in check
And the city is closed.

Hired Gun

Again the night comes
And I've got a job to do
Doesn't matter who
Doesn't matter why
I get paid 
And someone dies

An envelope under my door
With a picture and address
A money order for ten grand
And I do the rest

Just a hired gun
Don't take it the wrong way
Just a hired gun
You can't get away

I don't ask questions
It's not my business
If they've come to me
then it's time for your soul to rest

Just a hired gun
Don't take it the wrong way
Just a hired gun
No point in trying to get away

I didn't choose this way
Wasn't what I dreamed about as a boy
Wanted to be movie star or astronaut
Instead I'm the guy who makes you pay

And I know how this all ends
Won't see it coming
Won't feel a thing
Someone else will pull the string

Just a hired gun
That's what got me
Just a hired gun
I can't take it personally

Sunday, May 8, 2016

Up in the Air

For some reason the only time I really feel like writing in this thing these days is when I'm on a plane. Perhaps it is because I can't make the usual excuses I make to avoid posting here like there's something on TV or I've got important masturbating to do.

I'm flying back from Atlanta where I went for my niece's college graduation. Very quick trip but it was also quite nice. I will be wiped out by the time I get home and I have to get up extra early tomorrow for work. These are luxury problems. I'm 51 and I make a good living and have a nice home.

So where is Rambler at these days?

The job is good. There are challenges. I am well paid but at the same time it is getting tougher and tougher to get into the paper. This has nothing to do with my work and everything to do with a shrinking news hole and a large and talented staff. The editors are literally telling us to write less. This, in theory, is an opportunity for me to work on distinctive feature stories instead of focusing on cranking copy, which is what I usually do. But, as they say, it is tough to teach an old dog new tricks. And I am an old dog now.

The personal life is in transition but when isn't it. The woman I am involved with is finally exiting a marriage that has been dead for some time (before I ever entered the picture). She has a new apartment she is moving into with her two kids and soon hopefully we will be able to see each other a little more and eventually if all goes well I can be phased into the rest of her life. This is a long-term project and I'm in no rush. Just hoping it all works.

As for the writing, well as this blog indicates writing for myself doesn't come easy for me. I actually have an opportunity to pursue a book but it is a book about the TV industry and to be honest that kind of book has never really appealed to me. The way I see it, I'm doing all the grunt work for the other people who swoop in and write books about the business. And I'm not complaining. It's my strength. I'd be lying to say the idea of book isn't intimidating. But I'm not sure if it is fear that is keeping me from embracing this opportunity or a lack of interest.

So what am I interested in? I still have dreams of a noir book or heck maybe even something akin to Lawrence Block meets Chuck Palahniuk. A little noir, a little violence, a little erotica all mixed together.

So why don't I? Well there is where fear and excuses and laziness kick in. I need to get off my rear and take a shot for if for no one else. I've often said I don't care if I get something published, I just want to get something finished. Of course, to do that I actually have to start something too!

Yes, I've started stuff on this site and some of it may even play into a bigger project. I'm always torn between a series of short stories or a novel. However, just sitting here typing this makes me thing the short stories is the way to go. It can be a mix of fact and fiction or autobiographical. I know, look at the ego on this guy. But I don't mean an autobiography as in look at how fascinating my life has been. I mean ten or 12 short funny stories in my life. I'm pretty sure between my childhood and some of my amusing adventures as a drunk I can muster that up!

It's time to shut this down. No, I'm not landing. But I'm not ready to takeoff yet either.

Friday, April 15, 2016

Sucks, Don't It

Burnt out and overwhelmed
Uninspired and undesired
Life goes faster while I move slower
The days fade into weeks
The weeks into months
The months into years
The losses pile up
And the victories vanish in the night
But I get up every morning
To stay in the race
Keep the young punks at bay
Knowing they'll be where I'm at soon enough
And it will be there turn to be edged out
Of their place and their space
Sucks, don't it?