Popcorn. Size Large.
www.twitter.com/nickorsini …follow me to the hospital.
I was born in the summer of 1982
about halfway through the end credits
of Tron…just a young dad and a burnt
out mom …a kid with a helmet on
shot out into a popcorn- size large.
Today I signed up for a retirement plan.
Damned if I work these keys with these
hands so my kid can see every movie
and smoke every kind of crystal plant.
Someone live-tweeted my death and my
resurrection …and I rolled the stone away
so my iPad could adjust to the light of
the blue Powerade day. Thank god I
can take a picture of the bloody rags those
silly New Yorkers wrapped me in. Don’t they
know that bloggers never die and that the
uncool make the most neon kings?
Free Fingerless Gloves Books!!!
So, after watching the trailer above …it’s time to give away some PDF’s of my new book, Fingerless Gloves. As some of you know, my book will be going live in the Kindle Marketplace soon (some minor edit tweaks being made currently). If you want a free PDF of the book that you can read on your phone, computer, iPad, anything …message me here! All I ask is that, after reading the book, you take a second to give me an Amazon review.
If you like John Green, Perks of Being a Wallflower,Dazed and Confused, or any of the poems on this site, you’ll love the book. Shoot me a message and I’ll send you an e-copy of it!
Nick
Fingerless Gloves!!
So, two years in the making and my follow up novel is finally done and ready. In 12 hours, it will be live in the Amazon Kindle Marketplace. The digital book will only cost $5.99. For those of you with a Kindle, iPad, or any Kindle app, please help me out and read an awesome book.
I have to thank everyone who made this happen for me. As always, when you’re on your own as a writer, you rely on your friends to help. Here’s to everyone who worked to edit the book, design the cover, offer guidance. This book is for my family who believed in me when I was overweight, sad, and down on my life.
The book is about best friends …so thanks to Ryan, Dylan, Gabe and Chris …my 4 best friends in real life.
Lastly, none of this would mean anything without the 20,000+ of you who follow this blog, write to me, support me …this is what I can give back to you- good stories on the cheap. I hope that when you read this, you take something from it. Thanks for everything you’ve done.
Stay tuned for the link
Follow press at: www.twowrongsmakeavice.com and www.twitter.com/nickorsini
Alec Baldwin Tea Party.
www.twitter.com/nickorsini …stop. follow time.
Alec Baldwin narrates every date I go on …
like you’re all on a field trip to the Brooklyn
Museum checking out two people in a
plastic box. I played house and lost to myself.
Not enough plastic cups for that tea party…
Not enough furniture to fake my wealth.
Someone turns up the Neil Young and says,
“Why don’t people protest anything anymore?
Do they have any Big League Chew shreds of
conviction?” I say that gum lost its flavor back
in the summer we decided to spend our rent
on books about cognitive dissonance.
I read a eulogy off a teleprompter and tried to
signal the scroll to crawl slower …it never did
so I missed words and memories and mentions
of friends. Alec Baldwin can read at a reasonable
pace …so why can’t I do the same thing?
this is a poem about Elijah Wood.
Fords, New Jersey
He’s miserable and she’s miserable and they were miserable at Meet Me at McAnn’s in the bar arms of the bus terminal. Drink, drunk; free peanuts inflate her stomach.
Our favorite band is playing in Fords, New Jersey and we won’t go because we don’t know how to get to Fords, New Jersey. I wish I sold some more things on eBay so I could afford that GPS …and everything is abbreviated.
People laugh when I admit that Elijah Wood is my favorite actor …they say his career is bullshit …I say it’s full of choices made for artistic integrity and not for payment. I’m tired of debating on his behalf so I just keep my mouth shut.
He’s happy and she’s happy because they’re on drugs and their spinal cords are empty. Just dance to this DJ playing five iPads at one time. Music is just the means to connect some sex to our sour minds.
Another expertly composed tweet is eaten by Moby Dick…except now Moby is a bald cartoon and not the fierce general of his whale platoon. Remember when fairy tales had some teeth? Remember when coffee was black with no NutraSweet?
Will Elijah Wood come visit the stone sitting on top of my body and my head once I pass through the earth …dirty and dead? Probably not.
Metallica Volleyball Shorts
www.twitter.com/nickorsini …give me a follow. We’ll laugh about nothing.
Refused played on Late Night.
I felt like I was wasting April.
A graduate of the class of 2008
coaches girl’s volleyball at a high
school upstate. He just likes the
shorts under underage weight.
Missing in Action when my girl
works late …I can’t cheat when
there’s POW’s to save. The albums
became anthems, then cause for
a reunion. They are cemented in
memory’s walls because, after all,
Murphy ..we’re all merely human.
I see myself in a cartoon or at the
point between Reload and John
Hughes …just a powerline shorted
out by a child’s birthday balloon.
spicychickncrisp asked: I quite liked your "Planet Earth" piece. Your poetry has definitely grown on me.
It’s funny …I was watched planet earth the other night on blu ray …and I just started trying to make something out of the experience. If you guys haven’t, you should be reading the poems of Michael Robbins.
His poem “Alien vs. Predator” in the New Yorker:
http://www.newyorker.com/fiction/poetry/2009/01/12/090112po_poem_robbins
I’ve been trying to incorporate more culture and references into my own work. It’s something that I haven’t really explored, but after reading that poem, I know that with practice it can be done very elegantly.
Also- I’m looking for a partner to go to a Michael Robbins reading tonight in NYC at the Housing Works Bookstore …any takers?
Breaking News
A report on CNN called “The dumbing down of dads”
A friend asks for help moving.
The C-train to 14th.
The L-train into Brooklyn.
A composite sketch asks for some help finding a man.
A man who is a platform killer.
A push from yellow bumps to tracks…
dragged, then pushed under.
The rain leaves me boozy and pungent during brunch for
A coworker leaving.
I am foolish with all my words.
Confessing all these feelings.
My apartment is haphazardly missing one of its walls
and I still pay $2200.
I am newly broke and freshly trendy
just for a sweaty summer.
This city is a pill bug sitting in the middle of a freeway…
fitting nicely in grooves of tires
and always surviving disasters
and always ignoring the news.
Planet Earth.
A penguin marches, on its stomach, to mate on my TV.
Stoned living on Planet Earth.
Covered in Gushers and Clif Bar wrappers; crumbs collect
on my secondhand shirt.
They say you deflate under the pressures and weight of
people’s expectations.
I say you rise, with 360-degree eyes, to see every single
predator’s stance and stature.
Narwhal spears mix with narwhal tears to keep the ocean full-
Observing water gather.
The milk in the bong and hallway child’s song. My building is
parenting gone so wrong.
My girl eats radishes and beets from a bloody, sticky plate.
My girl loves to sing along.
Young penguin freezes in a blinding blizzard. Away from its friends…
Picture of the earth…
Blues and dirt…
Episode ends.
