Elections

I'm watching the polls close right now, and while it is too early to call, it is definitely looking like Obama is going to win. I have some political poetry to share but I had an interesting idea last night. I think it would be interesting to see some poems about candidates that didn't win. Perhaps there is some really good Bob Dole poetry (just say that out loud, it makes me happy) or maybe even some stuff about Goldwater or Kerry or Gore. I was just thinking it would be interesting to hear about the candidates that didn't win. Typically you don't hear much about the candidates that don't win - I mean I think I saw Kerry for the first time since he was running for president and I still don't know what he has been doing (not that I'm really that interested either). None the less I think the poetry of failed, or rather not elected (okay they failed what they set out to do), candidates would be fascinating.

An Obama Poem

It's been eight long years
but I'm not blaming anyone.
It's been far to long since
I've heard the truth.

In 2008 how do you do it?
After the lies,
and party politics,
I just ask that you
give us some hope.


My Obama Mama

Red state
or blue.
It doesn't matter where she is.
She is out there,
she is spreading the word.
Tonight is the night
and she'll be ready.
November the 4th
is going to be a day to remember,
my Mama is celebrating
the hope that will be there.


The Puns did it, Pundits

Stop yelling at me,
or I'm pulling this car over.
Your backseat driving
has got to go,
you are been driving me crazy
down this crazy political highway.

We've got to stop.
This roads come to end
and you've got to get out.

No hitchhiking for a least four years.


Copyright 2008 William Curb

Door to door

I had a guy come to my door today who was selling candy (and possibly some other things... I stopped him after he showed me his first item - I wasn't planning on buying anything) as a part of a program to keep kids off the street and away from alcohol and drugs. Now I think that is a great program, however I don't think that they are going about this the right way. Selling stuff door to door is not a good way to give people work and it isn't good for their self esteme either. I tried to be nice to this guys, but there was no way that this guy was going to sell me candy, he was out from the start. I imagine a lot of other people are the same way but I think there are also a lot of people that wouldn't treat the guy so nice as well. It is just a bad system. Also, I don't think there are any products the guy could sell that I would want to buy from a guy going door to door, I mean its either crap or stuff I just don't need.

I'm sure there is a poem in there about door to door sales men, but I just don't have it yet.

Zombie Novel: Chapter One

Well here it is, the first chapter of my novel. It is uneditted so don't expect too much and I'm not really planning on doing any editting to it until December, and possibly not even then (as I might want to get away from it for a while). The lines are a bit weird since I just copy and pasted it from OpenOffice and it is also missing the tabs, but I think you'll get along fine with the formatting how it is.

- Chapter 1 -

10:45

Frank checked his watch again. 10:45. It was too early, or too late, for it to be 10:45. The sun was just coming up over the horizon and Frank could see everything around the house for a couple of blocks. Frank sighed and shook his wrist trying to get the hands moving again. He really didn't want to lose this watch, it was with him from the beginning.

With the rise of the sun came relief. It wasn't that the sun itself provided so much relief, all though it did provide some reassurance, the fact was that Frank wouldn't be sitting alone in the dark any longer. Now he would be sitting alone in the light and while that wasn't much to go it at least helped Frank get through the morning. He needed something.

Frank got up and undid the latch that closed the trap door on his roof. When he bought the house he had complained that robbers could get in through the hatch, as if it were some how more vulnerable than a window to a common thief. Whenever Frank thought of thieves, his first images came from Mission Impossible. Frank knew it was irrational, but it still made him put extra locks on the door and store all of his valuables in a hidden safe in the basement. Frank didn't need locks any more, and it made him sad.

The floor creaked as he walked down the two flights of stairs to the ground floor. Frank opened the door and went out and closed the door simply out of habit. He jumped on his bike and started riding down the street. It was a mess but Frank had cleaned most of it up. The ground was another issue though. The sidewalks are road ways had cracked and had plants growing all over them. It was one of those things people took for granted and when no one was around to do repairs it just fell apart. Frank didn't have the know how to repave the roads, nor did he have the desire.

The air was crisp as Frank road along the road. It was still early and Frank looked at his watch again hoping it would display the right time this time. It still said 10:45. He sighed and road on. Before Frank never road a bike, but he had decided that he needed to take care of himself and had lost a lot of weight riding his bike. He was surprisingly proud of his accomplishment and would have gone out to celebrate had their been any place to celebrate at.

Frank stopped his bike at a yellow house and leaned his bike up against the white picket fence. The house was easy to pick out along the road as it was the only one that still resembled a house. The lawn was still cut close, although it had lost its radiant green color almost a year ago. The grass still grew, it just wasn't the pride and joy of the owner anymore. The house itself had seen better days, but it still looked good considering. Some repairs were just hard to do now.

Frank jogged up the steps and pushed the door bell. The door bell didn't make a classic ding dong noise, but instead made a loud piercing whine and Frank regretted pushing it as soon as his finger touched the little plastic button. Frank looked around the porch while he waited. Nothing was different from the last time he was their and there was never anything too look at in the first place.

“Phil,” Frank called through the door. There was no answer. Frank reached to push the door bell again but pulled away and knocked instead. There was still no answer. Frank grimaced and then leaned his finger into the door bell, holding it and wincing. He began counting as the noise bore into his head. At seven he heard cursing from the other side of the door and he let go of the button again.

The door opened and a large lanky man in pajamas stood there with an expectant look on his face.

“What the hell is it Frank?” Phil asked. Franked sucked his lips in and looked back down at his watch.

“Um... I was just wondering what you were doing today?”

“You need to get a new hobby and stop bothering me. I was sleeping. I was planning on doing it for another two or three hours honestly and then... well I don't know what the fuck I would do.”

“Want to go to Walmart with me then?” Phil sighed.

“Sure, let me get changed. Come on in.”

It wasn't Frank's fault that he was up so early. His problem was that he was an insomniac. The first few weeks hadn't been bad, but now that there was no one to help him Frank just sat around tired all the time. He felt like the living dead. He couldn't process anything and so he just tried to take everything in stride. Phil said it was the stress, but Frank didn't know what he had to be stressed about.

Phil came down the stairs with an overcoat on.

“It isn't cold,” Frank said.

“You say that every time, and you know what, it has never not been cold. It is always fucking cold now. You need, fuck I don't know what you need. Why are we going to Walmart anyways?”

“I want to get some parts for my bike. It is fine right now, but something is going to break soon, I just know it.”

“You want me to just look at it? I could tell you what you need.”

“Nah, I might try and pick up a new watch battery.”

Phil sighed again and walked out the door. Frank was still sitting on the couch when Phil stuck his head back in the door.

“You all right man?” Phil asked. Frank looked at him and blinked a few times before any words came to him.

“Oh yeah. I'm fine. Let's go.”

The sky had clouded over on the ride over to the 5^th street Walmart and it was no darker than when Frank had first gotten to Phil's house. The two road over the remains of the once gigaintic parking lot and stored their bikes in an old bike rack the had been dragged to the entrance of the store. Frank pulled a giant key ring from a fanny pack and unlocked the door. Phil helped Frank drag open the stiff sliding doors.

The store was much darker then usual since even less light was able to come in with the over cast sky and the lights were still off. Phil walked over to a make shift panel next to the door and flipped a few switches. Nothing happened.

“Looks like the generator is finally dead,” Phil said.

“Nah, I just unhooked it. Saves power, you know,” Frank said as he made his way into the dark store.

“I'm not going in there without any lights,” Phil called after Frank.

“Fine, I'll hook the generator back up just wait there.” Phil stood at the front of the store listening to Frank move about in the dark. Despite Frank's comfortability with being in the dark he wasn't very good at moving around in it and Phil heard him walk into the sides of a few aisles, spilling there content in loud crashes.

“You all right back there?” Phil called, just a little uneasy about standing alone at the front of the store. There was no answer, but after a minute the lights sputtered on and made Phil jump. He had been expecting them to be unexpected and had tried to prepare himself for their unexpectedness, but had failed completely. After catching his breath from his scare he wandered into the store after Frank.

“Frank where the hell are you?” Phil called while he walked to the bike department. The air was a little stale and Phil figured it had to do with the air vents finally giving. There was also something else in the air that Phil couldn't identify. He sniffed twice and tried to figure out what he was smelling. A hand came down on his shoulder and he jumped again.

“Sorry, forgot to grab a bag for my parts,” Frank held up a black backpack.

“Jesus man, don't sneak up on me. You're going to give me a heart attack.”

“Whatever, you just need to... What the hell is that smell?” Frank started looking around, directing his head with his nose.

“You smell it too? Yeah I just got a whiff of it a minute ago too.”

“Yeah, but there shouldn't be anything in here that would...” Frank said as he walked down the aisles looking down each in turn. He stopped outside aisle two, the cosmetics department, and stared while he waited for Phil to catch up. When Phil arrived he looked down the aisle and put his hand over his mouth and turned around.

“Frank, I thought you cleared this place out,” Phil said.

“I did.”

“Then what the hell is that doing in here?”

“I don't know where the hell it came from, it shouldn't be here. It doesn't make any sense. Of all the places. I mean the place was locked. How the hell did it get in?”

“Must have been in here already,” Phil said.

“No way. I've been through every nick and cranny this place has like five times. No way she was in here.”

“You think she is dead?”

“Of course she is dead.”

“You know what I mean, you think she... it is going...” Frank leaned down and look around the aisle and then took a few steps forward leery of the woman laying sprawled in a pile of cosmetic products. He picked up a bottle of nail polish from the floor and tossed it at the woman's head. It hit with a dull thunk and then rolled across the floor and out of the other end of the aisle.

“No.”

“Are you sure? I mean, fuck.”

“We should get Alex.”

“What the hell is he going to do that we won't?”

“Well we should at least tell him, he deserves to know. I mean there could be more of them around.”

“Fuck, don't say that,” Phil said and started looking up and down the other aisles, now on alert. Frank pinched his mouth and shook his head at Phil.

“I don't mean in here.”

“But what if...”

“No, plus we'd hear them,” Frank said fighting off a yawn. Part of the problem with being an insomniac is that you are always tired. It felt like an inappropriate time to yawn since Phil was on edge but Frank couldn't help himself.

“Well we should at least tell Alex,” Phil said.

“I thought you didn't care about telling Alex?”

“Well maybe we should, you know.”

“We will, let me just get a new watch battery first.”

“No... we should go. Like now. And you know get the hell out of this creepy empty store.”

“Fine, whatever you can wait by the door but I'm going to go get a new battery.” Frank got out of his crouch and started walking towards the back of the store. Phil was torn because he didn't want to be in the store and he also didn't want to be alone. The creepiness of the store won out and Phil half ran to the door.

Frank found the counter with the watches in it. The glass display had been smashed and only a few watches remained. He debated about just taking one of the new watches but decided that he liked the one that he had. He began unscrewing the back of one of the watches to remove the battery when he noticed a display with spare batteries. Frank sighed and pulled one of the batteries off the rack and replaced the battery in his watch. It began ticking again and he smiled. He looked down at the display watch, which also displayed 10:45.

“Well I'll be damned, right on time,” Frank mused to himself as he started making his way back to the front of the store. To be safe he check on the guest in aisle on his way out. As Frank walked by the aisle he did a double take. She wasn't there. Just gone. It didn't look like it had dragged itself off, it just looked as if she had just disappeared. Frank decided he wouldn't tell Phil until they got to Alex's house. It would only freak him out and he was on edge enough.

“Phil!” Frank called. There was no answer. Frank tried again, calling louder this time. Still no answer. The fatigue that he felt earlier left his body as adrenaline entered his bloodstream. Frank ran to the entrance but found it empty. His nostrils tensed up as he searched the area with his eyes. He let his ears open up, trying to bring in more sounds then he ever had before. Everything was still, nothing moved and he could only hear his own breathing.

“Fuck...”

Copyright 2008 William Curb

Zombie Novel

Another quick update. I've started my novel, which is going better than it did last year. I've done less planning than I did last year and I actually didn't know what I was going to write about till I sat down at my computer at around 12:30 last night. Well I've started writing Zombie Novel. Not the most original title (although in some ways it really is) but it works for me for right now. I'm not even sure I am going to have a large zombie presence in the novel. So far I think I've had one and it isn't even alive (so to speak... dead zombie and all... but yeah, not moving). I am going to be writing from two prespectives. Both are third person one will follow Frank and his friends (I want to change Frank's name but I haven't come up with anything yet) and the other will follow a guy named Jack. I won't give away too much just yet since it hasn't been written but I have some background I'll share. The setting is pretty much Tacoma or some small town (can't be Tacoma actually since I've put a Walmart in the story - but close enough and I'm not using any towns name, just Tacoma-ish geography) and takes place 5-10 years after zombies rose to the occation. This is why there is a small zombie presence, there just aren't as many around (maybe). Anyways, I'll give a further update later and might post the first chapter in the next few days.