tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16753115744966489062024-02-02T17:07:21.473-05:00~otto~: EVERY MOMENT IS LOVELY, YES :~otto~http://www.blogger.com/profile/08859835662556335529noreply@blogger.comBlogger72125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1675311574496648906.post-82283668452296965392011-10-19T12:40:00.001-04:002012-11-01T16:26:50.123-04:00{ for sale : my book }
My first book, Steal Me for Your Stories, is available for pre-order. This collection of short stories took me several years to write - many of which first appeared on this blog.
Also, I'm donating everything I make from this book to a trust for my late cousin's family, so even if you think the stories suck you can at least know it wasn't a total waste of money.
~O~
~otto~http://www.blogger.com/profile/08859835662556335529noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1675311574496648906.post-28560325437436055562011-04-26T23:47:00.001-04:002011-04-26T23:47:51.358-04:00{ my book should be out in early 2012 }
I do not like to run for trains but it was right there, I could see it, so I scampered. I swiped my card and the turnstile told me to “please swipe again,” and if turnstiles could laugh they would laugh like MWAHAHAHA. I watched the train doors close and I saw the empty seat where I could have been sitting speed past. A woman with a guitar was singing, really going for it on the high notes. She ~otto~http://www.blogger.com/profile/08859835662556335529noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1675311574496648906.post-22207699545810927042010-09-30T00:18:00.000-04:002010-09-30T00:18:57.836-04:00{ this blog has moved }The new spot is www.ottomattiq.com, and here is the new RSS feed, if you are so inclined: http://www.ottomattiq.com/rss.~otto~http://www.blogger.com/profile/08859835662556335529noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1675311574496648906.post-5345258693294700802010-09-07T22:10:00.001-04:002010-09-08T21:40:00.502-04:00{ tonight : under scaffolding }She and I said goodbye not for the last time and maybe we have a chance if we can accept that somehow we are doomed : death or dirty deeds : and the air is warm and there is a breeze on the city sidewalks and a motorcycle rumbles past and revs and pops and all the women are wearing what they must think are their last summer outfits so they show as much as possible and they jiggle in the right ~otto~http://www.blogger.com/profile/08859835662556335529noreply@blogger.com26tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1675311574496648906.post-28216766991511395822010-07-09T11:23:00.004-04:002010-09-01T08:10:57.398-04:00{ late-night walk through the park alone surrounded by people }I was going to walk through the fountain but it is off. There are still lots of adults and teens and kids in the park. There is a water-balloon fight. "Fuck you, nigga! I got one for you, nigga!" SPLASH! They are not black.
I stay dry. It is still hot out. The sky just turned black but the clouds are still white. Motorcycles. Bus breaks. Someone's phone is playing music. I do not normally do ~otto~http://www.blogger.com/profile/08859835662556335529noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1675311574496648906.post-21504885887007007712010-07-02T11:16:00.004-04:002010-07-05T13:52:17.011-04:00{ sentences for someone who will not see them }A glass of water is still too complicated to drink. More difficult than walking over a wet sidewalk grate. My feet slide across it and I think of tongues licking teeth, the teeth of a father with daughters only, a dad who drunk-dials me during the day and says, "What could be more honest than that?" See, she fell and he laughed, and he says, "The only reason I ever love someone is because it ~otto~http://www.blogger.com/profile/08859835662556335529noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1675311574496648906.post-78161194919828676952010-06-28T00:05:00.001-04:002010-06-28T00:05:36.360-04:00{ until you stop appreciating it }I held open the cab door for her as she slid across the seat and she said, "Wow, how long does this kind of treatment last?" And I said, "Until you stop appreciating it." That's how it is with everything. She smiled. I could see up her skirt as I gave her my hand. I kissed her when she stood up and wrote a note about the exchange in my phone. I also wrote: Being nice to ~otto~http://www.blogger.com/profile/08859835662556335529noreply@blogger.com26tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1675311574496648906.post-68433295153632364512010-06-21T14:04:00.000-04:002010-06-21T14:05:12.526-04:00{ a sale on luxury emotion }Memorize her body like a blind man : this is not free : slide a finger through what is left of you on her skin : trace slick lines that glisten against curves and softness and bone : wash them away : laughter in a blistering shower : steamy wet footprints track back to the bed : a bruise like a bloody kiss under a breast : nose pressed against newly warm neck : everything smells like what it is :~otto~http://www.blogger.com/profile/08859835662556335529noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1675311574496648906.post-48285771503075907152010-05-27T19:58:00.013-04:002010-06-10T19:17:35.021-04:00{ you really do have to watch out for those bears }She asked to be slapped and she screamed and slapped back and said she likes to create conflict. The bite marks on her shoulder were deep so deep. A bruise like a butterfly wing. Everything fit perfectly : tongue and tit : ass and spank : hand and throat.
Her boyfriend, though. This was her way out, no chance for try again, the way to make him lift instead of her and whythefucknot and she ~otto~http://www.blogger.com/profile/08859835662556335529noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1675311574496648906.post-5386562405257514212010-05-16T20:58:00.007-04:002010-06-06T18:31:56.646-04:00{ squab }Because it is so easy to be difficult and because when someone says red I hear numbers. I count the drips on the side of my cone. Children play in the park and the swing sets squeak. I always say that.
A new sentence came to me last night while I was sleeping and I repeated it over and again in my dream to memorize it. I forgot it as soon as I woke up. I remember that it was the second ~otto~http://www.blogger.com/profile/08859835662556335529noreply@blogger.com28tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1675311574496648906.post-79605216440199870062010-05-11T20:18:00.007-04:002010-05-15T16:34:17.023-04:00{ I cannot make my own because the goddamn store does not sell fucking tahini }This little fat fucking kid and his stupid fucking friend are not looking where they are running in the crosswalk so I let the fat one slam into my shoulder and maybe I dipped a little into him and he crashes to the asphalt and his backpack splits open and all his books and papers spill onto the street and I feel like my good deed is done for the day, hard lesson learned for the young one, ~otto~http://www.blogger.com/profile/08859835662556335529noreply@blogger.com28tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1675311574496648906.post-84159053073840008762010-05-08T13:32:00.001-04:002010-05-15T16:34:44.867-04:00{ matryoshka }There is a secret burlesque show inside a hot dog stand inside an unknown hat shop inside a midnight nightclub inside a speakeasy. She said if I came, she would let me eat her nipples. Secret knock: bribe the bouncer: tip the cap: bacon-wrapped with avocados and sour cream. I step inside a red telephone booth, close the folding door. The phone rings, I answer. A trap door springs and I fall ~otto~http://www.blogger.com/profile/08859835662556335529noreply@blogger.com22tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1675311574496648906.post-42705027799836716992010-04-03T14:57:00.001-04:002010-04-03T14:57:57.784-04:00baby cakes, you for meEach time a train grinds its ax through the station, I tingle at the thought of someone unseen pushing me onto the tracks. Too much everything, and owed apologies. So, look, what I am trying to say is: you can talk and talk and I will listen mostly and I will kiss you so so soft to shut you up, whisper in your ear, but baby I just want to fuck.Maybe that is a lie, maybe. A sound that sounds~otto~http://www.blogger.com/profile/08859835662556335529noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1675311574496648906.post-63386227221568213882010-03-28T14:41:00.002-04:002010-03-28T14:41:38.458-04:00to go outsideit is not just the cold months that make living so hard, it is the short days and dirty snow and the fear that it will never end but
it does and
from my window the choral chaos of children playing in the park and a chiming ice cream truck and I go outside with shoes on but no socks to
take a dirty shirt to the cleaners and I lick my first dipped cone and walk into woods that are ~otto~http://www.blogger.com/profile/08859835662556335529noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1675311574496648906.post-15171009478393033822010-03-14T23:21:00.002-04:002010-06-01T23:40:02.402-04:00my eyes on her eyesMy bipolar ex-girlfriend said, "Life is what you fake it," and I hated her for that, for being right, for being smarter than me, so I scraped my fork across the yellow bubble of a yolk, watched it ooze, and said, "Tomorrow is as meaningless as yesterday."
"Shut the fuck up with the Buddhist, in-the-moment crap," she said. "And eggs are disgusting, you fucking embryo eater. How can you eat ~otto~http://www.blogger.com/profile/08859835662556335529noreply@blogger.com30tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1675311574496648906.post-69997200959131734252010-02-10T02:17:00.008-05:002010-05-24T00:51:51.647-04:00she said: frost? blah blah blah indignant blah. cummings is good for masturbation. whores, man. underage whore poetry.My dick was so hard in my hand it woke me up early without the alarm. Porn for breakfast, no shower and naked pushups until failure. I left a sticky handprint on the floor and there was spackle just below where my waist nearly touched the parquet between half-packed boxes. Or maybe they are half-unpacked.
A neighbor introduced herself in the elevator and shook my unwashed hand. She rubbed her ~otto~http://www.blogger.com/profile/08859835662556335529noreply@blogger.com37tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1675311574496648906.post-50517285933040396832010-01-13T21:59:00.013-05:002010-02-22T21:15:50.743-05:00drunk dial from a man with thr3e dau6hte9s¿ and what could be more honest than that ?
she fell and
he
laughed
and I guess I am supposed to say something better than good
"good" is not
good ¿ "something" is
not so great either but can we
let that one go ?
good
there is nothing to see here move along
these lines ¿ where is the torque
that twists bubbling
innards and makes the thumping behind
glittering bones rush
~otto~http://www.blogger.com/profile/08859835662556335529noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1675311574496648906.post-68912710870645856372010-01-08T21:46:00.003-05:002010-01-09T09:11:52.115-05:00happy ending dance party pornA hand dragged a razor across a foamy vagina on the movie screen behind the deejay until it was bald. The pink monster was as big as he was, could have swallowed him whole as he spun a record, held headphones to his ear, and bobbed his head.
"It looks like a piece of chewed up bubble gum."
~O~~otto~http://www.blogger.com/profile/08859835662556335529noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1675311574496648906.post-39089161557199248322009-12-28T21:54:00.002-05:002009-12-28T21:54:54.063-05:00and it goes by and it goes by and it goes by until it doesn'tAnd weeks go by and I picture a woman I have never met in person playing in the sun somewhere I have never known. She is funny and smart and what might have been. She must be happy because she is not around much any more, around me on the circuits and wires, and I am happy for her but sad for myself because I am selfish and my ego is out of control and I miss her, what so very little I held of ~otto~http://www.blogger.com/profile/08859835662556335529noreply@blogger.com27tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1675311574496648906.post-86770159513988819842009-12-20T22:33:00.004-05:002009-12-20T22:46:29.529-05:00the subway smells like a wet dog
Tires over wet cobblestones.
Dead pines on sidewalks, the smell so good the smell. (Or are they firs?)
You are good at smiling. Better even than that yellow dude with dots for eyes and a circle head who will live forever. I will give you money.
Something nice on a not nice day.
Lip mittens and belly hats.
Past glass bottles of upstate milk, lopsided pies, ~otto~http://www.blogger.com/profile/08859835662556335529noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1675311574496648906.post-70932334661736591792009-12-12T14:39:00.000-05:002009-12-12T14:40:14.169-05:00phone call from medellínYou don't understandYou don't understandI have no wordsI think I'm going to dieI don't careI don't careIt was the craziest night of my lifeI'm shaking You have no ideaI'm calling you because I need redemptionAnd you know if I say it was the craziest night of my life thenDudeI have no wordsMy nana won't even speak to me I met this guy named Carlos from Rhode IslandI have no idea ~otto~http://www.blogger.com/profile/08859835662556335529noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1675311574496648906.post-49163772643418473382009-12-08T23:43:00.002-05:002010-06-06T19:33:37.049-04:00drain, ohShe does not remember what happened that night, she claims, so I hint at the thing and then deny it happened, but like it really did, and it twists her into a mental mess. I feel guilty, but in the good way that you get from fucking with someone over something not so important. It is more fun to watch her squirm over the thing than the thing itself (which may or may not have happened).
She does ~otto~http://www.blogger.com/profile/08859835662556335529noreply@blogger.com24tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1675311574496648906.post-67702031368212781062009-12-02T00:51:00.003-05:002009-12-02T08:07:04.691-05:00my pin # is 0369If there was a person dying inside the warm banking area next to the ATMs, I could not insert my card in the door properly to save her life. So frustrating. And even if I did, she would probably ask me for a ciggie and when I said NOPE a little too enthusiastically as I deposited a check for thousands of dollars -- a gift from family -- she would call me a fucking Jew bastard who fucks for money.~otto~http://www.blogger.com/profile/08859835662556335529noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1675311574496648906.post-574433358587688812009-12-01T00:48:00.008-05:002009-12-01T00:52:49.791-05:00around here they use words like "ghastly" and "dreadful"The old soap star rubbed my ankle with her wrinkled toe under the table: her boyfriend is a professional killer from another country: he was right next to her: he has a funny accent: he is her son's age: her son is a dear friend: the toilets in her ~otto~http://www.blogger.com/profile/08859835662556335529noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1675311574496648906.post-52969568261610663302009-11-27T14:44:00.005-05:002009-11-27T14:47:07.477-05:00livejasmin69jojo69's other-side-of-the-world boredom is infectious.
Hello, SuckOnMyClit.
000000000ASS has nice eyes and huge nipples. BadBoyakaPussyDog types: "U mke my penis very happy bb." 000000000ASS adjusts the computer camera in her cramped room.
How has your day been, squirtfabianne?
10inchdeeppussy says she has a headache from bad chicken. She will not smile. (Who the fuck gets headaches from ~otto~http://www.blogger.com/profile/08859835662556335529noreply@blogger.com12