#improv
Meeting Mr. Garter at a new building, the guys expect an all night interview with a big story. Turns out there is more to the job than immediate headlines.
"We made an old Observer lensman happy and I swindled one of his precious Ivory towers off of him"
"Hey Chief, what do we want with a divorcee's debauchery apartment?"
"Real class Josey, you're worth every dollar in the pinch, you're definitely mine tonight, huh?
"Listen John, grab some cushion with Josey. The make of a quarterly doesn't come at you ahead of time, it's the lithographs, the toner's rent on the high rises that takes the city out."
"Say I got news on a new mover Chief. I mean a solid hand in the crunch, can I meet him between the eyes from up here and announce him while I steal the advertising layouts?"
"Now's the time John, roll it on your people who get doors to work, promise 'em front page exposure if it makes them smile their paid in full."
"Or how far into the night competitor A goes while competitor B spends ransom notes across half the state Josey."
"You know I can paint Chief."
"Sure can, color film costs a big gamble so give me 'till Thursday for the work ups Chief."
"Got yourself an appointment Josey, John, your okay with the timeline?"
"Yup, good to go boss."
Feb 10
Feb 10, 2026 at 12:00 AM UTC
You may live under my mask hollowed creating madness
But why then the crying
As you dream of loving banter beneath the our breaths
Why also the contempt
What illness you concoct simply
People are used in your chagrin
Are we to be deceit
Twice posed in the opportune
I, forced in the gowns,
You oiled from the mines
In exchange of me there is always yourself, cold husk and overdone
Only once am I, never the compliment, confess of yourself
Feb 24
Feb 24, 2026 at 5:10 PM UTC
"Sue the officials stink to high heaven! Every single wave of the city pulse has crud trailing right to their collars. I've never seen hogs wash before, watching these folks swing ruins the whole business!"
"Joe, I've told myself the same when I sat through lunch. What gets me ruffled is the amount of them hitting the exit door by the day. Five to twenty new corporations it must be for that scale of swindling. One out of five lines up a Chief of this, Chief of that title while hanging their supporters and folks over the fire. Real crude oil in the blood."
Feb 22
Feb 22, 2026 at 9:34 PM UTC
No matter the line you count on your railways. Points of arrival stick about thick all line lengths, 'till the run of money spills thin. Fetching a calmed silver note crisp and issued, every attendant is on the payroll. Currency on the rails comes from departments made for the brunch routine.
Feb 22
Feb 22, 2026 at 4:04 PM UTC
"The city is hiding defeat John. It's being worn out in a trend. Each day a new number shelters the incoming, bleached surprise fashions the scent. Also the up and at 'em calls married the burgundy brunch club. Gotta watch that conversation. However they move they do it at a cost."
"I've noticed some flocks are dwindling Constance. Now you are on to a lead I have to get new lenses working on. Not my prescription. Haven't spotted the labor shifts just yet either, you?"
"Whoever came into the city isn't greased over front row, that lines set and getting ready to be weighed by Josey and Sue Ellen. They seem sure City Hall and the Municipal Affairs Building are maligned. Say soon the two accounts are ready for a deposit."
Feb 22
Feb 22, 2026 at 3:46 PM UTC
She of the litter
Spared, fierce and bitter
Not having the redux
Cold, handsome and gathered
Rarely offered on platter
Sat beside the desert plum
Holding in hiding
All the brims fitting tidings
Of seasons spoiled shakes
Not one for purchase
And tempered in the mine
Rotten beauty's waist, still felt just fine
Feb 18
Feb 18, 2026 at 5:08 PM UTC
In and around the waste themes often aren't offered to cities like adjusting lights by request. Something swoops the toll in the road and goes on a mad painting binge.
The low ridge is a costly summit to lose track of in big city circles. Takes the very wind and sails themselves, marks up the price to hang around and it's all done to remind you who's in charge now.
And all this doesn't go without a grease pit attached to a diamond shop. Corners need to stay close allowing a weather report to the board exec's.
Fitting it on an entire state from there is the way it should go. Accept one's endearing occasion and liberty is on your arm by six p.m. Well, leaving the chum in the streets doesn't scare you lately, it might force some walks around the old park.
"Suppose your that type of number on my line Sue."
"Sure thing, you capsize and need to wear my smile to confess. Your gonna pull through without moving out of state Josey, the city is barely taking us out to brunch."
Feb 16
Feb 16, 2026 at 6:27 PM UTC
Be, be, be
Everything rhymes
Why is it me?
Me, me, me
I don't want to be
I just want to see
See colours and flavours and,
everything I cannot be
things I want to see
things when I try to breathe
To relieve myself of things I need
Things I need and ways I feed
Feed, feed, feed
Feeling like food is not how it's supposed to be
Not how I should feel
Food is an enemy, food is a friend
Food nourishes to no end
So why oh why does it hurt to eat?
It shouldn't, that's why,
we all try not to eat
Try, try, try
I cannot comprehend why
Me oh no I
why do I try
Everything they do just makes me cry
Just be normal
Just be kind
All I want
Is to wake up and see the light
Light from which I no longer have to try
to see,
cry,
Maybe it's better to sleep at night
Jul 22, 2025
Jul 22, 2025 at 1:41 PM UTC
The gilded age watching over
The laughs echoing from the stage,
The lights dancing as they turn the page
Transition to the next game, checkmate.
I've been here the whole time
We've been discussing the Bidet
And the cult following they accrued
A total of thirty followers ensued
Enough to make a documentary.
A burgundy suit all picked out
For a wedding in June to Jess and...Jess,
All ready in a chic black dress,
All the suggestions flow and go and know
And the audience rings with participation
With suggestions--with bait.
Hook line and sinker, baby,
Knock it out for the win,
Come on roll us the dice
And spin us some sin.
Back through the tunnel,
Lights through a funnel,
Guiding the way, pushing away,
Away from King's Theatre
Away from the laughs,
Away from Sam and Sam and
Jacob and Jeremy's spats,
Away from Lou and Kimia too,
Vic is left on the stage shrugging,
Away from them too.
Giavani, a ******* queen,
And Shutup! Kurt needs to say something...
I love you all and to thine self be true
There will be nothing like this performance ever again,
And that memory is thanks to you.
It was a sparkler,
Alone in the night,
With our laughter we held it alight,
It burned for longer,
Longer than eight nights,
The oil from the latkes
a bubbling, browned delight.
A moment in time,
A moment of laughter,
A moment of silence before the disaster,
A time and a place and a place for the memories,
Don't underestimate the time you spent here.
Remember everything you can and hold it dear.
Cherish the improvisation,
The luck, the dice, the trolls, the rights,
Let it all simmer,
Take it to a boil
Under these spotlights.
Jan 23, 2025
Jan 23, 2025 at 10:53 PM UTC
_I never thought I would discover a passion as yourself.
Miracles restore my desolated mind, repeating a problematic past. The demons no longer reach me with their screams, the damage done to my spirit, it all vanishes from your embrace.
Your voice is loveliest tune in the world. I rather not live without the colors your ideas paint into life. Music sings and fills the air from your soul. You know enough about yourself, still it's a mystery to you. What your essence delivers in quantities. Blessings are bestowed upon us, upon all from your divine presence.
It's remarkable. It's astonishing. Vibrantly godly.
You are the key, providing me LIFE.
You are strong as LOVE and without you.
I would not be able to DREAM_
Jul 6, 2022
Jul 6, 2022 at 8:46 PM UTC
What am I to write
when theres nothing on my mind
Guess I'll just improv
Jan 22, 2020
Jan 22, 2020 at 1:23 AM UTC
What doesn't **** you
Makes you wish you were dead
That taste of the edge
Latches onto your bones
And grows like the mold
In the plaster basement cracks
In the pit of my soul
That grows deeper and deeper
And I can't take
The heavy weight
Of my own screams
And my buried mistakes
One more moment of silence
Might as well shatter me
I'm a porcelain doll
With a fragile disposition
Easily offended and losing friends
The loneliness is haunting me
Animating the skeletons
I sleep beside
I'm too scared
To lay in my bed
Ever since she left
So I make my home
In a nest of scarves
And support myself
The best I can
But the weight of the world's getting harder to hold up
I'm the furthest thing
From Atlas
I do my best
But since when has "best"
Meant anything
Aug 25, 2019
Aug 25, 2019 at 9:58 PM UTC
“I love you” I confessed to him,
“I can’t do this,” he answered,
“it’s already morning.”
May 14, 2019
May 14, 2019 at 1:36 PM UTC
I’m stumbling my way home
and tripped on my own backyard
I went astray
inside my own home
but I’m not home
this is not a home
there was no home
I stumble accross so many nights
and got lost
in the break of dawns
over and over
again
but it’s dark outside
where am I?
how long have I been here?
can I go home now?
May 14, 2019
May 14, 2019 at 12:31 PM UTC
With the right voice
Everything is poetry
© 2019 MJL
Mar 12, 2019
Mar 12, 2019 at 7:50 PM UTC
I hunger for attention,
As if each like, view or subscription,
Changed the description of me.
That my worth was tied,
To each follow as hollow as my heart.
Yearning for internet fame,
When my wounds are to blame,
For the despicable state that is me
Saturday, August 11, 2018
9:43 PM
Aug 11, 2018
Aug 11, 2018 at 10:57 PM UTC
A person goes out to town to cure
Boredom or loneliness
Often looking to conquer both
Even an introvert wants company
It’s taken six years to go search
I found a coffee shop
With a black box room
I took a seat
And waited for the host
To start the show
Improv comedy
Never been to one of those
The host asked
What’s inside this invisible box
Answers came out from the audience
I said a can of worms
Not loud
I hate attention
But the host heard
And chose that can of worms
Someone listened to me
And now they are making
Me my own personal joke
I got to admit
I was jealous
Each member has conquered
The fear of people
Of being in front of people
Of speaking to people
Acting crazy in front of people
The show was great
We all had a laugh
One day I will thank them
And maybe one day
I’ll join on that stage
Just one foot in front of the other
Next week is a poetry reading
And that’s where I’ll be
Aug 3, 2018
Aug 3, 2018 at 6:04 PM UTC
I haven't written at length for a long time now and my maelstorms are worse. I haven't written for my heart and the protest inside has reached a crescendo of violence. The dam is at its limit and I am the explosion waiting inside. My conductor has quit and the orchestra has lost its sanity, timbral destruction and cymbal apocalypse. I watch helplessly the drowning flutist and the bleeding pianist. Whale song rings in my ear all the time, and I am tired of this dismembering dissonance. My nostrils flare in the polluted river and the acid water has reached my lungs. They burn with the intensity of jealous stars and pull me in like black holes. Sometimes the heat is too much and the cold offers nightmarish dreams of death. So I bear the burden of two jackets soaked in ice water. My teeth, eyes and nails feel like they might fall into my food and I won't have the energy to even care for self-cannibalism. The church has fallen on our heads and my life is frothing at the mouth. The madness is finally settling in, violently setting up camp in my soul. My veins pulse rhythmically like the drums in a System of a Down song.
Father why have you forsaken me?
In your eyes forsaken me.
In your thoughts forsaken me.
In
your
heart
forsaken
me.
Oct 29, 2017
Oct 29, 2017 at 2:47 PM UTC
We were two objects of no value flowing down a river.
We bumped into each other and the experience was jarring but unlike anything either of us could explain in words that fit on the two dimensional space in our minds.
That was okay, I didn't need to say anything and neither did you.
So that's how it was.
Two objects of no value that clung to each other and flow down a river and for a long while it seemed we would never need to find the words to explain how we felt.
Then that storm came and the waters of the tributary flooded the land between rivers and we were washed around with all the debris.
Before I could come to an understanding of these events the river had become unfamiliar and large and wild and I was afraid.
I turned to you to say something but couldn't think of the words.
As I struggled in the waves and searched for the words I noticed we had been separated just a moment before and you were clinging to a branch that had floated too close.
As the river flowed ever forward we grew further and further apart.
As I looked around in my panic the river seemed to never end in any direction.
I thought we may float so far apart that I would never see you again.
I had been looking silently in the direction you floated for so long that, were I too unfix my gaze I would become hopelessly lost.
You, or the dot you had become, were my horizon. all I could see.
Too scared to look away from the comfort of your memory, I gave up.
Motionless, I was on shore. I had been for some time.
I stood up, because it was only then I realized I had feet, which is something of value, and it was as if a third dimension unfolded before me.
I walked out of a river, lost and alone and in awe of this wonderful world which had just been uncovered. Free.
I sometimes think about those days when I was subject to the current of a river and how you made it bearable. Now that I am out of the water and with two feet, stand confidently on land, I wonder,
would I have felt the same about you if we bumped into each other here.
Mar 28, 2017
Mar 28, 2017 at 6:01 PM UTC
I was once able to improvise love
No I..I..Is
No Uh or Ums
Just I love you....
I didn’t realize that I never meant it
Then, one day, she arrived
The only available words were....Hi
Cheeks
Cheeks Cheeks Cheeks
I wanted to kiss her cheeks like it was the first time eating an apple
I wanted to kiss her cheeks like it was a chocolate cake and I was five
I wanted to kiss her cheeks like yesterday was the day i was given the gift of lips
I...I...I..wanted to kiss her cheeks like..Um..Uh
I was Once Able to Improvise Love
Oct 7, 2016
Oct 7, 2016 at 3:35 PM UTC
Thomas, Tommy baby,
you are both hot,
and sweet.
Tom Cat you’re red hot--
when I catch you in your Tom Cat Strut,
sauntering across campus,
strolling like it ain’t no thing,
cuz it don’t meant a thing
if it ain’t got that swing baby.
So dig this, Tommy Gun,
you groove with the best of ‘em
when I spot you strollin’—
Your head, teetering left and right like a seesaw, boppin’ baby,
arms hangin’ loosely, swinging freely, wildly, go! go!
legs scooping forward in boisterous trombone slides--
Groooooove Tommy baby!
You’re Louis’s best blows--
ten feet from the mic and the Fives baby,
you’re hot, red hot,
any closer and I'll burn up!
Go!
But you’re cool, real cool,
and oh so sweet.
Super sweet--
in your beard like a pepper and salt shaker tossed across the table,
I look to see those rosy lips part,
and peep those pearly whites shinin' like the bell of Louis’s cornet
brandished in the air, under those ballroom lights--
you’re screamin’ Tommy!
Let me hear that laugh that shakes the room,
punches like Blakey’s bass drum,
thumps like Mingus--
T-Bird you’ve got that hard bop in your soul,
you’re gonna bop to the top TB,
into the third heaven where the angels fall in line to your swing,
that incessant strut that keeps the devil at bay,
Blow! Blow! Blow!
And I see you now Tom Cat,
up there in the clouds,
digging your way across eternity,
bopping and jiving, swinging and blowing,
in your faded khaki pants and worn tennis shoes,
loosely buttoned collared shirt,
tight rectangular glasses that glistened the bell of your eyes even more--
I gotta stand twenty feet away Tommy baby!
You glance down at me and wink,
rearing your head back to let loose that Mingus and Blakey
bottom-end laugh,
guffaw guffaw guffaw!!!
--so hearty and rich,
the backbone of every nervous first-year classroom,
and the sniggering seniors you continued to befuddle and dazzle
with your mysterious ways
and insatiable swing.
So blow, Tommy Gun, blow!
Go Tom Cat go!
Dig T-Bird dig!
Let loose Tommy boy!
Swing for us, swing swing swing--
Hot and Sweet, Tommy baby,
hot and sweet.
Jun 22, 2016
Jun 22, 2016 at 1:55 AM UTC
Off
the top of my head
What can I write
off the top of my head?
Can I write a true, for-real poem?
Or just a bunch of nosense,
riddles from a gnome?
What can I create just by simple improvisation,
by simpling tossing words at a wall?
Will it be something to awe and inspire you all?
Will this poem simply crash and burn,
drag me behind it as it falls?
I don't know,
I will not know,
until I share this burst of improvisation
with the world.
Tell me now,
is it shining gold
or pitiful coal?
Apr 26, 2016
Apr 26, 2016 at 1:21 PM UTC
one mad day
beneath a drunk moon
i will need you
like fluffy beauty
after a frantic love
screaming sweet luscious music
deleriously through a winter storm
i will recall a time
of lazy vision
and dreaming of you and me
sleep together for eternity
thousands of rose petals
on TV
Aug 16, 2015
Aug 16, 2015 at 4:57 AM UTC