Tag Archives: hate

Donald Trump

If his words are a prologue to his actions then we’re asking for disaster, we’re distracted ‘cause we’re laughing at his lack of tact but that’s just what he’s after, he’s mastered and crafted this personality of fascist charisma, apparently desired and insisted on by the average white American, he’s a terror and hysterically irrational, a national symbol of the unfair persistence against a system of equality, his standpoints are extreme, like his hair, and he doesn’t seem to care that he stares right in the faces of other races and raises them to hate him, he’s oblivious to the statements every news anchor has made about the stupid revelations we have created for other nations, we cannot sit this one back while we parade a mascot for America who’s racist and berates other places whose names he probably can’t even say, these are mistakes we’ve made with Sarah Palin, all I’m saying is that we deserve a president who can go one day without alienating an entire country and calling them rapists.

To summarize: there’s just some guys you can’t trust to drive the change we need right now in our lives.

Writing @ Starbucks

Sometimes it’s important to shut your fucking mouth, like in public places where your faces are busy misplacing the pastries you’ve paid for while the air escapes your veiny throat and what’s more heinous is the fact that you’re draped with the same shit that killed your uncle James, kid, and you don’t even savor it, you favor it gone in a second like you came with a mission to slay shit, to eat more food than a buffet filled with different stages of diabetic patients, my patience is thin and the more you linger the more anxious I am to flip the one finger on my hand capable of distinguishing me as foe or friend, you annoy me to no end, you’ve destroyed my trail of thoughts and that is my last strand of straw, you’ve ended all my plans to stay calm, I’m erupting from the skull like my cranium’s gone, you pathetic scu – oh, he’s leaving. Ah, back to writing.

What it almost was

There it goes. My grandmother gave her that plate. Now it’s on a UFO trajectory to the wall like it’s area 51. I don’t have to duck – she has terrible aim. Or unclear intentions.

Her eyes water when she yells this loud. Her hands flex out and she leans at me like she’s catapulting her words. When she stops screaming I assume it’s my turn to talk so I say the wrong thing. I always say the wrong thing.

She pushes the lamp over because it’s going to solve our problems if that fucking blue lamp is on the floor. If she were a man we’d be four bloody knuckles into a fight by now. God I wish she were a man so I could beat the shit out of her. Here she comes.

She stomps over the floor like our neighbors pay her for it. Then she jabs me in the chest and drops my car keys in my hands. I have to leave, of course. In our apartment where I pay for most of the rent, but I have to leave. Fuck me, go fuck myself, fucking fuck fuck. She’s always been awful at using curse words in a sentence.

I walk to the door, but how did I know this would happen. Am I just going to leave? Just like that? Well shit, isn’t that what you wanted? Now she says I don’t care about this relationship. Maybe I don’t. Can I say that? I just want to tell her I don’t care. I don’t care about any of this. I don’t care about you, I don’t care about our kids, I don’t care about this apartment, I don’t care about this life. I just want to leave. Hitchhike on the bumper of a semi headed right to Hell. I’d rather have Satan rape me repeatedly in the ass than inhale another molecule of your Britney Spears perfume.

She asks if I ever even loved her. She won’t like the answer so I don’t say anything. I can leave, she says, and she becomes soft. She’s raged out. Her body slumps like a bean bag chair and the tears breach her lashes.

Guilt settles into my gut. The crossroads. I’m here once a week and I always pick the wrong road. No, less like a crossroad, more like a roundabout. All I have to do is take the exit.

Of course I love you, I say. I’ve always loved you.

Sorry Satan, our date will have to wait.