1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18.
_ Project r
By
Tom Miller
there is someone
staring at me from
across the room...
the cat will not stop
typing about it
the blue girl in the painting
is a guitar
and nothing whispers
anything of love
“I’m smiling like I’m happy,
But you don’t know how I feel.”
- Duster Bennett
I. Project r
Project r began as a concept which became this book. The concept was, call something Project r and then begin it. Project r would decide for itself what to be. So as things unfold, I find myself at Maude’s Café; a coffee shop in the middle of Downtown Gainesville, Florida-- known in some circles as the center of the universe. I type on an old Littera 32, and the pounding of ink to page can be easily heard by the patrons, many of whom are typing on their own stealth laptops as they peer curiously at my odd machine. It is a perfect cloudless sunny day. I am fueled by a large cup of strong coffee. I am wearing sunglasses to protect other people from my eyes. There is a cool breeze.
Project r informs me this is to be a series of stories recounting some of the stranger trials and tribulations of my life as a poet, writer, and... performance. But it cautions me, warning me about the nature of truth. It tells me the story of the stick and the snake.
One day, a man is walking down the street when he sees a snake in the road. Upon further inspection, he discovers it is merely a stick. The nature of truth to ponder is this: Was the stick a snake when the man saw it as such? Was it even there before he saw it? And how could such things be proven beyond all reasonable doubt? This is something like love, Project r informs me. It might bite. And gradually, as Project r expands around me, I am suddenly aware of an emotion beginning much as Project r began; from nothing, to this. And that emotion is, fear.
I light a cigarette and a loose CHAPTER OUTLINE BEGINS TO EMERGE. PROJECT R HAS DECIDED TO TYPE IN ALL CAPITALS, WHICH ON MODERN SOCIAL INTERFACES SUCH AS EMAIL AND CHATROOMS IS CONSIDERED TO BE SCREAMING.
A GIANT FLY LANDS ON MY HAND.
RANDOM COMMENT OVERHEARD AT THE NEXT TABLE: “MY SISTER USED TO HAVE AN EASYBAKE OVEN. WE PUT HER BARBIE DOLL IN THERE.”
SOMETHING IS WRONG WITH THE LITTERA 32. **
CHAOS INTRUDES.
CHAPTER OUTLINE:
FROG
THE BUNNAY INCIDENT
YOU ARE NOT FRANK SINATRA
THE SLAM GUNTHER INCIDENT
WHAT THE ALIENS TOLD ME
THE LEGEND OF WACKY MACKY
A GAY LOVE STORY
AND THE CONCLUDING ESSAY ENTITLED: SUDDENLY FIRE, NUDITY, BLOOD, AND ELECTROCUTING YOUR BALLS WITH A CAR BATTERY IS ILLEGAL ** NOW I HAVE NO SHOW.
AND THE EPILOGUE;
WHAT EVER HAPPENED TO PROJECT R?
THAT CIGARETTE
WENT QUICK, HARSH, STRONG
I HAVE NEVER SEEN SUCH A
RAPID BURNOUT
ASHES TO ASHES
DUST IN THE ASHTRAY
THE WIND TAKES IT ONWARD
By
Tom Miller
there is someone
staring at me from
across the room...
the cat will not stop
typing about it
the blue girl in the painting
is a guitar
and nothing whispers
anything of love
“I’m smiling like I’m happy,
But you don’t know how I feel.”
- Duster Bennett
I. Project r
Project r began as a concept which became this book. The concept was, call something Project r and then begin it. Project r would decide for itself what to be. So as things unfold, I find myself at Maude’s Café; a coffee shop in the middle of Downtown Gainesville, Florida-- known in some circles as the center of the universe. I type on an old Littera 32, and the pounding of ink to page can be easily heard by the patrons, many of whom are typing on their own stealth laptops as they peer curiously at my odd machine. It is a perfect cloudless sunny day. I am fueled by a large cup of strong coffee. I am wearing sunglasses to protect other people from my eyes. There is a cool breeze.
Project r informs me this is to be a series of stories recounting some of the stranger trials and tribulations of my life as a poet, writer, and... performance. But it cautions me, warning me about the nature of truth. It tells me the story of the stick and the snake.
One day, a man is walking down the street when he sees a snake in the road. Upon further inspection, he discovers it is merely a stick. The nature of truth to ponder is this: Was the stick a snake when the man saw it as such? Was it even there before he saw it? And how could such things be proven beyond all reasonable doubt? This is something like love, Project r informs me. It might bite. And gradually, as Project r expands around me, I am suddenly aware of an emotion beginning much as Project r began; from nothing, to this. And that emotion is, fear.
I light a cigarette and a loose CHAPTER OUTLINE BEGINS TO EMERGE. PROJECT R HAS DECIDED TO TYPE IN ALL CAPITALS, WHICH ON MODERN SOCIAL INTERFACES SUCH AS EMAIL AND CHATROOMS IS CONSIDERED TO BE SCREAMING.
A GIANT FLY LANDS ON MY HAND.
RANDOM COMMENT OVERHEARD AT THE NEXT TABLE: “MY SISTER USED TO HAVE AN EASYBAKE OVEN. WE PUT HER BARBIE DOLL IN THERE.”
SOMETHING IS WRONG WITH THE LITTERA 32. **
CHAOS INTRUDES.
CHAPTER OUTLINE:
FROG
THE BUNNAY INCIDENT
YOU ARE NOT FRANK SINATRA
THE SLAM GUNTHER INCIDENT
WHAT THE ALIENS TOLD ME
THE LEGEND OF WACKY MACKY
A GAY LOVE STORY
AND THE CONCLUDING ESSAY ENTITLED: SUDDENLY FIRE, NUDITY, BLOOD, AND ELECTROCUTING YOUR BALLS WITH A CAR BATTERY IS ILLEGAL ** NOW I HAVE NO SHOW.
AND THE EPILOGUE;
WHAT EVER HAPPENED TO PROJECT R?
THAT CIGARETTE
WENT QUICK, HARSH, STRONG
I HAVE NEVER SEEN SUCH A
RAPID BURNOUT
ASHES TO ASHES
DUST IN THE ASHTRAY
THE WIND TAKES IT ONWARD