Note From My Moleskine #12

August 31, 2009

7 August 2009
Saratoga Springs, NY

8 males with graying beards
dressed like boys in high school
slappin’ each other and talking from
the bottom of their throats
pantomime masturbating, and
drinkin’ in the hot.
Dudes. Dude-in’ it. Fuckin’
each other’s girlfriends
and holdin’ on to a youth
that wasn’t nothin’ to hold
onto when they had it.
Makin’ bets on the present
with their kids’ money.
Going home to sleep it off
on mom’s couch. Sayin’ “I
love you, mom,” and meaning
it. Their girls are home
with kids or with the other
girls. Or workin’ shit jobs
waiting for one of the
dudes she doesn’t even
know she’s waiting for to
come in and flirt over cigarettes
and change, doesn’t even know
what’s coming for her, but
wouldn’t really care if she
did. The dudes. Out in the
hot. Smokin’ butts and talkin’
’bout their father’s boats, their
grandmothers’ money. Doin’ nothin’
but scraping and weighing others
down, makin’ them hard and soft
at the same time, like a
train-hopper with a trust fund.
They’re in the sun, they’re
with the dudes. They
haul washing machines and build
roads and loaf and feed you.
It’s summer, baby, not a care
in the world. They mow your
mom’s lawn, say “hey ladies” to
strangers, they shy away from
bets on their futures with their
parents’ money. They ain’t tough, but
they ain’t nothin’. They’re the dudes,
man. Some of ’em are rich in
the others’ eyes, some of them live
better, got better girls, better boats,
better game, better throwing arms,
and they always have, since the
dudes began at age six or
sixteen in a parking lot or
at a barbecue.
But they don’t care about any
of that shit; they’ve got the
sun and the boat and your
girlfriend’s hot sister and Budweisers
and the lake and the
other dudes and good, hard jobs
or a good, long couch and a
big TV and
they take no shit that they’re
aware of and they say “fags”
a lot and get drunk enough
to forget the heavy shame and
shyness that grew up with them
from the fathers they swore never
to be but couldn’t help becoming
and they’re here, out in the
sun with the dudes and the
beers and they earn their
keep, such as it is.

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2 Responses to “Note From My Moleskine #12”


  1. This got me jacked up for some reason.

  2. jd1220 Says:

    thanks vik. i’m glad you responded to it because i wrote it about the people we saw every day growing up and it’s nice to see i might have connected with something there.


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