In my snuggie,
Like a mofukin thuggie

Seeking a gentleman who gets lost in thoughts
Feels everything and holds onto nothing.
Bachelor must tolerate banjos, books, and bare-feet.
A writer is preferred, but not exclusively.
I'm seeking a companion who loves tea and coffee in the afternoons
Must be willing to gamble with the suggested shows on netflix
And suggested artists on pandora.
Bonus points if music moves him in directions he didn't know existed.
Seeking a gentleman whose heart is made entirely of love and passion
With a reasonable head
And an unapologetic twinkle in his eyes.
I warn you that I love sunburns and tank-tops
Rain makes me sad, and I own a blue Snuggie named Ralf.
I laugh too loud at lame jokes about muffins and bars
Cry desperately in movies
And am driven to push boundaries.
***** makes me loose
I'm terrified of fourteen-year-old girls and spiders.
And I consider 90 degrees to be jacket weather.
I'm seeking a gentleman with an empty hand and a full heart
That I can love with all that I have
Laugh with, cry with, dream with.
You can find me in the words on this page.
I'll be waiting.

Thank you, Thomas Edison, for your invention.
That we may use it as an analogy
In perpetuity.
In concept.
In cartoons.
No risiduals earned on this I'm afraid.
Epiphanies are so rare there would be little earned anyway.

They come on like rushing wind
Some we are lucky enough to grasp.
Pet Rock.
Chia Pet.
The Snuggie.
Others are squandered.
At the bottom of a bottle or glass.
Lost in the illegible syntax of a bar napkin.

Thomas Edison once bemused that he never failed.
He simply found a new way it wouldn't work.
What I wouldn't have given,
to have been among,
his bar napkins and empty bottles.

Wait a minute, is it already Christmas again
Seems I just took down the lights and the tree
Is there no rest for the downtrodden and weary
This season sometimes takes the Merry Gentleman out of me

So I load up the sleigh with the dog and the kids
The old beat up station wagon I drive
On the hunt for this years perfect tree
We'll be lucky if we make it back home alive

As we jingle all the way to the local tree farm
Six kids and a dog singing at the top of their lungs
With only twelve days left before Christmas
My **, **, **, is already long gone

Picking the best tree out within our budget
My wife says Charlie Brown would be proud
I ask smarty pants Mrs. Santa what she meant by that
She'd rather not say with the little elves around

Before an argument even ensues
I've lost the battle before I hit the front line
You wonder how I'm so confident of that
The same thing happened last year at this time

As I struggle to get the tree off the roof of my jalopy
While Jack the dog in the frost is nipping at my toes
I fall to the ground with visions of sugar plums dancing in my head
Waking up to the dogs frozen tongue stuck up my nose

Finally with the tree set up in the front parlor
I notice it leans bad to one side
Taking my chainsaw to alleviate the problem
The gas fumes **** my kids parakeet out right

With Hobby Lobby open late for the holidays
I was able to purchase the product I need
Working late into the wee morning hours
I did a good job shellacking the parakeet

I'm not sure that my kids even noticed
Or brought up the question what for
But they sure like the shinny new ornament
Hanging next to the hamster that disappeared the year before

Well, I survived another preparing for Christmas
As subconsciously I'm being led
To wrap myself in last years present "The Snuggie"
And dream of those sugar plums dancing in my head

Obliging my son with a bottled formula nightcap
Glanced over at the cover of Rachel Ray
(My wife a fan; me……not so much)

I suspect
(at as far as marketing consultants are concerned)
There is something deeply rooted in the female psych

That says:
Total fulfillment can be summarized as holding an overlarge mug of a hot beverage in 2 hands
(never one hand – that’s business only)

sitting on your couch
feet cannot be touching the floor. tucked, preferably
Added success at life can be conveyed via a thick sweater or (for the wildly tasteless) a Snuggie.

Sitting on the cold grass
today makes my stomach
hurt. The sun that would
normally warm and greet
my dreary disposition
only keeps the wind at bay
long enough to play the
jacket game:

Pulling the sleeves of my
royal blue petticoat
with ******* buttons,
onto my arms, shimmying
it until the collar rests
at my neck, as a makeshift
cheaper Snuggie.

Then as the sun peeks out from
behind the clouds, warming the
ground, I'm shuffling off the rolled up
blue sleeves, pushing the jacket into
a heap at my feet.

The edge is what the words meant to our juvenile minds
You came like a milkman of crazy like I paid you a subscription
Because the married voice of our desperation may be rocka fella
Don't mean we are gucci chanel postes of imatation handbags
But I sit at the end of a dinner plate admiring your constant behavior
And wondering how a high school misfit still views a. Past excuse as a comment for hate
Might be strong and smile but worried actions equal a cold shiver
A snuggie is the present warmth left by infomercials
I won't say ur the crest of a ohs blue...
But I still appreciate a ******* like you....

Christmas Day is finally here
“Time for laughter, Time for cheer”
To quote Dr Suisse as I often do
The master of rhyme
And poetry too
But enough about him
His mean angry Grinch  
Scaring all little children
Like Newt Gingrich
It’s time to waked up
I’ve got coffee to drink
Santa’s been to mom and dads
With a nod and a wink
I stayed up real late
And slept in until eight
I can’t sleep any later
It’s a terrible fate
But Christmas here
It has finally come
I am glad we do not
Have to eat sugar plumbs
I wrap m self up in my snuggie
So tight
“Merry Christmas to all
And to all a good night”

Wait a minute, is it already Christmas again
Seems I just took down the lights and the tree
Is there no rest for the downtrodden and weary
This season sometimes takes the Merry Gentleman out of me

So I load up the sleigh with the dog and the kids
The old beat up station wagon I drive
On the hunt for this years perfect tree
We'll be lucky if we make it back home alive

As we jingle all the way to the local tree farm
Six kids and a dog singing at the top of their lungs
With only twelve days left before Christmas
My **, **, **, is already long gone

Picking the best tree out within our budget
My wife says Charlie Brown would be proud
I ask smarty pants Mrs. Santa what she meant by that
She'd rather not say with the little elves around

Before an argument even ensues
I've lost the battle before I hit the front line
You wonder how I'm so confident of that
The same thing happened last year at this time

As I struggle to get the tree off the roof of my jalopy
While Jack the dog in the frost is nipping at my toes
I fall to the ground with visions of sugar plums dancing in my head
Waking up to the dogs frozen tongue stuck up my nose

Finally with the tree set up in the front parlor
I notice it leans bad to one side
Taking my chainsaw to alleviate the problem
The gas fumes **** my kids parakeet out right

With Hobby Lobby open late for the holidays
I was able to purchase the product I need
Working late into the wee morning hours
I did a good job shellacking the parakeet

I'm not sure that my kids even noticed
Or brought up the question what for
But they sure like the shinny new ornament
Hanging next to the hamster that disappeared the year before

Well, I survived another preparing for Christmas
As subconsciously I'm being led
To wrap myself in last years present "The Snuggie"
And dream of those sugar plums dancing in my head

A corner's edge bends in the twilight of the day
Morning moves its precious moments
I'm feeling alone and oh so ****** stagnant
Lingering along in a world with a dying song
I looked out my window to look again for you
A feeling inside that I believe that might make me alright
But oh the fates of the world at large
With the running rivers and the men up north in charge
Were nothing in the news unless you can sing the blues
Make an act and sell your soul for a stack
Take what you will as you write your own mother's will
And the drinks will be bubbly as you tie up your snuggie
Alone with a bone that will soon be laying rotten
New York New York you dropped me off from the wrong stork
Melting methodically I rehearse my own day
Mirrors move in unison, hearing the sounds of people being born again
A whisper from the racket, a sister tying her jacket
As God weeps tears and sneezes in His son's hair
Contrasting religion as my soul is a sizzlin'
A night spent away from myself is like forcing myself to love on the 12th
So many hours spent wishing and fishing for answers
As well as millions of days waiting to get plastered
A twisted controversy of miseries misleadings
Tells me to continue on with my own silent song
Roads will weather me and of course try to tether me
Dollar signs flash bright, but there is an end in that sight
For the night with the stars and the all night bars
Makes me wink to the one behind me, I'm already too far
Tricking myself to believe that a future is on my sleeve
Today I will be new but tomorrow I might be calling Sue'
Breathing openly about all these sorrows as I slowly rock
Could it be? Could it be? Could it be?
That I was never meant to turn out to be me?
Heckling hordes remain stiff and act bored
Oh how fast and hurried I tend to get sore
Pitching these tents on hills that are burning
And all the time I dream of what it means to truly learn
I must be crazy to riddle off these rhythms
In a place where everyone's obsessed with the years current lace
Turning literature into amateur caricatures
Highlighting my own sad life
Kicking back a line from way back when gripping the knife
And I'm trying to keep myself inside this life
No no no these words are nothing special
Eternity marries the elder in the middle of April
Not a joke is said during the morning bloom
For everyone around me is still struggling with their own tune
Flicking the tube on and I got blue on
A face that looks like mine has become one in his own time
A flick away from salvation and I'm running to escape false elation
I might be here now, but tomorrow, who knows the land?

Oh
Hello again
  2:24

I know we agreed
That it was for the best
If we got some space

But the streetlights are
            overbearing
And the clock is too loud;
It was inevitable that
            they would send me
Right back to you
Eventually

And I know that we,ve had our fun:
Poorly thought-out bike rides
and Korean televisio n

But the family,s around
            tonight babe
So I,ll grab my snuggie
            and you hold the phone
And we can blog from the ba-
             thtub ,til
4 am gets home.

                                 'Q

Wait a minute, is it already Christmas again
Seems I just took down the lights and the tree
Is there no rest for the downtrodden and weary
This season sometimes takes the Merry Gentleman out of me

So I load up the sleigh with the dog and the kids
The old beat up station wagon I drive
On the hunt for this years perfect tree
We'll be lucky if we make it back home alive

As we jingle all the way to the local tree farm
Six kids and a dog singing at the top of their lungs
With only twelve days left before Christmas
My **, **, **, is already long gone

Picking the best tree out within our budget
My wife says Charlie Brown would be proud
I ask smarty pants Mrs. Santa what she meant by that
She'd rather not say with the little elves around

Before an argument even ensues
I've lost the battle before I hit the front line
You wonder how I'm so confident of that
The same thing happened last year at this time

As I struggle to get the tree off the roof of my jalopy
While Jack the dog in the frost is nipping at my toes
I fall to the ground with visions of sugar plums dancing in my head
Waking up to the dogs frozen tongue stuck up my nose

Finally with the tree set up in the front parlor
I notice it leans bad to one side
Taking my chainsaw to alleviate the problem
The gas fumes **** my kids parakeet out right

With Hobby Lobby open late for the holidays
I was able to purchase the product I need
Working late into the wee morning hours
I did a good job shellacking the parakeet

I'm not sure that my kids even noticed
Or brought up the question what for
But they sure like the shinny new ornament
Hanging next to the hamster that disappeared the year before

Well, I survived another preparing for Christmas
As subconsciously I'm being led
To wrap myself in last years present "The Snuggie"
And dream of those sugar plums dancing in my head

Jericho, at fourteen
Lifts heavy the light snuggie around his arms
Forgets some of the women standoffish with his numbness
Beaten into a craggy duff box

As an old man
Set free every morning in the dream door, sleep as empty and  numb
Drowning in light
Out and up from the heights
To the glittering spires of an exalted city

    To a raging wildfire slowly snuffing itself out around the edges

    Then, a young man learning the back of his head and what people called him

His death then was a shiny new pane of dark frosted plastic
    His nights then much organized plastic
    Dull as dirt 'neath the evening moon
    Each star hungry for sun to give it brilliance, something for us all to forget
     His thick toes gun for a thousand

None
Carving his face in the dirt with water
None
Stalling for a long time while away from him
None
Scribbling content hieroglyphics to forget her lying eyes
None
Descending ever deeper, reaching for the nets
That are hopelessly out of her reach

He rubs his fingers along the smooth surface of the tumbler once a year
   Against hope and hoping against a chance to ignore her face
   And he won't eat anymore from the split pig
   And stay in the oxygen town and stay awake for weeks at a time
   As if the hoot owl didn't have enough songs to sing.

It’s Wednesday.
Some ungodly hour between
4:00 and 6:00. Maybe. I’m not sure.
My mind is soft, unfocused,
sleep-heavy.
Dawn’s greeting is gentle, loving.
A mother’s smile. A susurration, interrupted
by David Wolfe promoting the NutriBullet on an LED screen.
Avocado, kale, blueberries.
Pseudo-science babble stems from wild,
bright eyes, overflowing into bohemian curls. Overgrown and unruly.
Enthusiasm and conviction have
never been more entertaining.
Billy Mays and his dynamic personality pitch.
Stubborn stains shiver before the power of OxiClean.
In a parallel world, I have bought out
every kitchen appliance, every menial utensil
that will revolutionize my quotidian life.
Those ped eggs, the George Foreman grills, Shamwows.
And I am content,
as I sit on my throne of ShamWows,
draped in an oversized Snuggie.

Wait a minute, is it already Christmas again
Seems I just took down the lights and the tree
Is there no rest for the downtrodden and weary
This season sometimes takes the Merry Gentleman out of me

So I load up the sleigh with the dog and the kids
The old beat up station wagon I drive
On the hunt for this years perfect tree
We'll be lucky if we make it back home alive

As we jingle all the way to the local tree farm
Six kids and a dog singing at the top of their lungs
With only twelve days left before Christmas
My **, **, **, is already long gone

Picking the best tree out within our budget
My wife says Charlie Brown would be proud
I ask smarty pants Mrs. Santa what she meant by that
She'd rather not say with the little elves around

Before an argument even ensues
I've lost the battle before I hit the front line
You wonder how I'm so confident of that
The same thing happened last year at this time

As I struggle to get the tree off the roof of my jalopy
While Jack the dog in the frost is nipping at my toes
I fall to the ground with visions of sugar plums dancing in my head
Waking up to the dogs frozen tongue stuck up my nose

Finally with the tree set up in the front parlor
I notice it leans bad to one side
Taking my chainsaw to alleviate the problem
The gas fumes **** my kids parakeet out right

With Hobby Lobby open late for the holidays
I was able to purchase the product I need
Working late into the wee morning hours
I did a good job shellacking the parakeet

I'm not sure that my kids even noticed
Or brought up the question what for
But they sure like the shinny new ornament
Hanging next to the hamster that disappeared the year before

Well, I survived another preparing for Christmas
As subconsciously I'm being led
To wrap myself in last years present "The Snuggie"
And dream of those sugar plums dancing in my head

Wouldnt it be nice if every one smiled
And everywhere was filled with laughter
And there was singing fairies as far as the eye can see
Wouldnt it be nice if everyone joined hands and sang kumbaiya
Whatever thats supposed to be
Wouldnt it be nice if everyone had a snuggie to rap themselves in and we would change our name from humanity to snugmanity
Well im not too sure about that one but while im at it
Let me go over some other nice things
Poetry is nice too.
Because if there was no poetry id have a lot of answering to do for all this sitting around
Puppies are also nice with there huge adorable eyes and there funny internet videos
The last chip in the chip bag or the rest after a nice workout
A good nights rest or a daughter named clever
Over eating and games and wasting time and arguing
Its all nice in the end because life is too good to pass up
And in the end there will be nothing to regret. just happy memories
But let me tell you the truth More important than any life lived or memories made
It would be nice if i could be found in a hug lost in a smile

Sue is baking pretzels on a Thursday afternoon.
Flour on her hands, just like we used to.
Its some familair smell in the air,
Deep warmth that fills a room in the abscense of your laughter.

When I asked you if you thought about old loves,
You said she was a snuggie blanket in the closet.
You said she was a car on the side of the road.

I didn't understand just how far thoughts could wander.
They drive me crazy - traversing time,
Traveling places that this body no longer can,
Conversing with lingering loves in my mind -

"I'm building a travel van like you always wanted to.
I'll be travelling solo, and you won't know
Where I'll go and the things I'll see.
Its just for me.

..but I wish it weren't.
If you had the option, would you go?
If you had the option, would you want to know?"

I will always be wandering, searching for home.
I will always be wondering, wishing to know:

"Do you ever think of me
The way I think of you?"

Wait a minute, is it already Christmas again
Seems I just took down the lights and the tree
Is there no rest for the downtrodden and weary
This season sometimes takes the Merry Gentleman out of me

So I load up the sleigh with the dog and the kids
The old beat up station wagon I drive
On the hunt for this years perfect tree
We'll be lucky if we make it back home alive

As we jingle all the way to the local tree farm
Six kids and a dog singing at the top of their lungs
With only twelve days left before Christmas
My **, **, **, is already long gone

Picking the best tree out within our budget
My wife says Charlie Brown would be proud
I ask smarty pants Mrs. Santa what she meant by that
She'd rather not say with the little elves around

Before an argument even ensues
I've lost the battle before I hit the front line
You wonder how I'm so confident of that
The same thing happened last year at this time

As I struggle to get the tree off the roof of my jalopy
While Jack the dog in the frost is nipping at my toes
I fall to the ground with visions of sugar plums dancing in my head
Waking up to the dogs frozen tongue stuck up my nose

Finally with the tree set up in the front parlor
I notice it leans bad to one side
Taking my chainsaw to alleviate the problem
The gas fumes **** my kids parakeet out right

With Hobby Lobby open late for the holidays
I was able to purchase the product I need
Working late into the wee morning hours
I did a good job shellacking the parakeet

I'm not sure that my kids even noticed
Or brought up the question what for
But they sure like the shinny new ornament
Hanging next to the hamster that disappeared the year before

Well, I survived another preparing for Christmas
As subconsciously I'm being led
To wrap myself in last years present 'The Snuggie'
And dream of those sugar plums dancing in my head