"May it be Epic"

Welcome to P.J.'s writing portfolio!

[salmonberrypj]

Mayday, mayday, mayday, this is Cessna 152 Golf-Zulu-Papa-Oscar, I'm headed down, in the world's most unnecessary plane crash, The radio code is wrong, Or the mic is off, Or the sound of the distress call would actually be really annoying, if you think about it, On the calm airport frequency, Where the steadfast accents hover between the phthalocyanine mountains, Assured, evergreen, in aviator shades, And if I mess up the circuit pattern I'd feel real embarrassed before I hit the ground.

So, mayday, mayday, mayday, there is one soul on board, Except it's more of a mildly inspiring to-do list sat where most people keep a soul, Somewhere between the heart, the eyes, and the altimeter, And I'm going to make an emergency landing on the fields by the river, With a high pass at It's Been Busy, And a low pass at I've Been Having a Weird Time Lately, And a walk around the block, And a chai, And the local traffic frequency is full of good advice, But the downwind check yields nothing - the dashboard is perfect: You're a good student, you just need a little time to practice.

-P.J.

[salmonberrypj]

Escapril Day 14 - A Recurring Dream

The dreams don't recurr, The characters do, I dream of avoiding bothering you.

I dream of side-stepping, The moss esplanade, If you look I just sadly and knowingly nod.

-PJ

[salmonberrypj]

Escapril Day 13 - Purr

-PJ

[salmonberrypj]

Escapril Day 12 - Oh, The Light!

Untitled Warboy Sonnet

The flames eat up the car, eat up the Wheel, Eat up the eyes for lookout, hands for fight, Eat up the perfect holy Chrome and steel, The last thing you can think is o, the light!

The last thing you can think is how you'd Tell, The Boys who wanna go out now and fast, How bright it is now, Witnessing yourself, There's no one there to Witness you, dumbass.

Your body wasn't good for much at all, Your brain was good for targeting, you guess, And now combustion deities have called, There's nothin' you can tell them back but yes.

You don't wish for more time, you're still a fighter. But you sorta wished you'd go out even brighter.

-PJ

[salmonberrypj]

Escapril Day 11 - Posture

-PJ

[salmonberrypj]

Escapril Day 10 - Fog

-PJ

[salmonberrypj]

Escapril Day 9 - Bad Habit

“I can do without anything,” Saint Augustine tells me as I brush my teeth.

“Anything?” I ask, in a soft tooth-pasted accent.

“Yes anything,” he says. “Violent shows, the theatre,” he looks at me in the mirror, “Women.”

“How?” I ask. I spit out the toothpaste, wash out my mouth, and return to the mattress on the floor. The homework glares up.

Saint Augustine is back in the doorway.

“I simply hate that my flesh is weak and I want earthly things,” he says, which is absolutely what I thought he was going to say.

See, that’s the problem,” the paper is so convoluted, so long, forms of formants from fricatives to floating tones I can’t place on vowels. Yes, I’ve tried. “What happens when you hate wanting earthly things, but not enough to quit wanting them?”

“Evidently you don’t hate it enough,” he says.

I’m not getting anywhere with the formants. I set them aside, pull up some essay prompts. I’ve never had an opinion in my life. “I wish I did,” I say. “I wish I hated wanting anything, so much that I only ever ate miso soup and drank eggnog. I wish I hated it enough to never feel tired. I wish hate was the strongest curse word I’d ever used, and the strongest thing that had ever burned and intoxicated me, and I never sat down to watch TV.”

“Good,” he says.

“Those things never pay off, though,” I say, the petulant sort of vain that’s almost comic relief.

“Then hate things more,” he suggests.

I can’t think of a second paragraph idea for this prompt. “You’re giving lackluster advice for a guy who wrote thirteen chapters on the subject,” I accuse.

“You’re being vain and foolish,” he says.

“You’re being a pompous, holier-than-thou old man.” I want to paint my nails, but I keep needing my fingers for something.

“I am,” he agrees, “Holier.”

“Break it up, break it up,” says God. I don’t recall at what point He got into my room. Maybe I’d feel more awake if I did some pushups. “You’re both perfectionists. That’s My job.”

“But I’m not a perfectionist,” Saint Augustine and I both answer, “Otherwise I would be doing everything right!”

-PJ

[salmonberrypj]

Escapril Day 8 - What's The Truth?

You would like to know,

Would you not? Boy who scans the

Skies for rainy days?

-PJ

[salmonberrypj]

Escapril Day 7 - Portrait

-PJ

(Based on this one post about the speculative 2-for-1 POW portrait adventure).

[salmonberrypj]

Escapril Day 6 - A Childhood Memory

Child Hood Memory

In lieu of any real understanding of what 'freedom' might be (Besides the vivid image of a Disney princess in a field) (Unsupervised) (The wind, the hair, the dress) I was five or so Subjected to the cruel injustice of a raincoat The awful punishment of a headband The advice that maybe you shouldn't drink rainwater off the umbrella

And in worlds where freedom is synonymous with standing in a field (Unsupervised) (Hair everywhere) You think you have some kind of righteous cause When you sneak into the bathroom and pull ten or so hairs from the headband To look wild 'Free,' or whatever that means (Even though the idea of being unsupervised in a field is actually really scary) Because I had, as the Queen herself says, "The complete conviction of someone who's never had anything actually really bad happen to them"

-PJ

[salmonberrypj]

Escapril Day 5 - Spiral

-PJ

[salmonberrypj]

Escapril Day 4 - Trip

I slip up again Angry in a needless way The work I should be grateful to have glares up Neglected by lack of focus, lack of care, lack of Eh, whatever.

I trip again Right into your arms and advice: "Don't worry, tomorrow will be better."

-PJ

[salmonberrypj]

Escapril Day 3 - Eye Contact

-PJ

[salmonberrypj]

Escapril Day 2 - The Internet

-PJ

[salmonberrypj]

Escapril Day 1 - Change of State

United States of Matter

Solid: The rigidity of my plans (As I drop them on the sidewalk) (Ten minutes late for the train) Becomes apparent in the lump they leave behind in my chest, Patter of such a particular perfectionist's heart Against the hard glassy surface of a train schedule. I do not like to reschedule.

Liquid: Flowing light slips across the consolation-prize bus windows I drop from the staircase and into a backpack, Melting into her backseat with applesauce-crossed legs. We go out to the bar where everyone has admirable hair. The drink I order, For some reason, is called the Goblin King

Gas: My thoughts are far above my thoughts, My head is far above my head, They always said I was a lightweight. We float back to the birds nest of curtains that is the apartment, Well too aware of the aerosol-propelled rush to work Waiting at five. Adventure is the split second you fly After slipping off the rear end of the horse.

[salmonberrypj]

Interview With a Raindrop

[Interviewer]: And joining us as our next guest, allow me to welcome... a raindrop!

[Crowd cheers]

[Interviewer]: Welcome to the show, raindrop! I gotta say, you're looking great tonight!

[Raindrop]: Aw, really? You mean it?

[Int.]: Every word!

[Rain.]: Well thank you! I don't hear that a lot, at my age.

[Int.]: I hope this isn't too private of a question, but I'm sure our audience would like to know - how old are you, actually?

[Rain.]: Oh, I'm as old as they come. I'm as old as the rocks that sleep deep beneath, creeping up to recycle for a couple million years before they melt into a smooth snooze again. I'm as old as the old ocean, before this one, that mostly floated off into space. I'm older than the Moon. I'm older than the rain.

[Int.]: And was that your first gig? The first rain?

[Rain.]: Ah, yes, we played so well in that one. I remember how we played for centuries, filling oceans, and submerging forever all the deepest cracks and hollows where the darkest creeping creatures used to hide. It was a sold-out show, I think. You never heard anything like it.

[Int.]: I bet! And you've been touring quite a lot since then, haven't you?

[Rain.]: I have! I've gotten to see some amazing places. Aquifers, avalanches, inside airplane window-panes. Antarctica. Agents, peddlers, and also solicitors. Petersburgs & Pacifics Northwest. Every crinkling frond of every Carboniferous fern. Bodegas in bromeliads with frogs bartering bugs. Sinks, soups, streams. Salty water and saltwater. I've played everywhere there is to play.

[Int.]: And, besides that one first rain, what's been your favourite so far?

[Rain.]: Well, this morning I landed on one of your audience members' heads in the shower. Don't worry, I won't say who. But I thought they were so lovely, I gave them little kisses all down their forehead.

[Crowd goes 'aaaw']

[Int.]: That's very sweet! I have heard, though, that some of your fans are a bit disappointed, because there's been some rumours that you were involved in that tropical rainstorm last month, you know, the one that destroyed several houses. Care to address those rumours?

[Rain.]: Oh, yes, I was a part of that storm, and it was pretty dreadful.

[Int.]: Really? Do you wish you hadn't been?

[Rain.]: I don't. I'm a raindrop, see, and raindrops can't wish otherwise, because we have only one path to take. We can't hope or hop-options, as humans often opt to. It's one of the things I admire so much about you - you can choose things, and you frequently do. Like that rescue crew, after the tropical storm. But raindrops, no, not us. We have a pretty strict manager.

[Int.]: And who is that manager? God? Physics?

[Rain.]: Yes, very much. She goes by lots of different names.

[Int.]: Well... there you have it! We're running out of time, so I have just one more question for you. Where can your fans go to hear more of your work?

[Rain.]: That's a good question! Gullies, sometimes. Gutters, especially over rocks, or the kind that pour out into the yard. Gargoyles are a particular favourite. Misty forests are good, or mountain fjords, or mighty floral broadleafs. The storm drain, when it gets clogged up. The blood in your ears, when you're mad. Two single tears, one hitting the pillowcase after the other. We don't do deserts much, yet, but pretty much anywhere else you get your music.

[Int.]: Thank you very much for your time, and I hope you have a great night. Next up, we'll be interviewing only five of the 3.348 million people in Mongolia, and after that? Well, we'll get there when we get there.

P.J.

[girlfictions]

Matthew Olzmann