Comments Posted By jambobuleh

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“What do you think?” she asked him, holding in both hands two similar looking pieces of fancy cardboard. “Eggshell or Off-White?”

“Uh.” he replied. He couldn’t tell the difference between two fucking pieces of stationery.

“Oh Kevin.” she rolled her eyes.

» Posted By jambobuleh On 06.19.2012 @ 2:53 am


The rain has been pouring down since the week before. It ended summer on this note like a little teary farewell. I bid farewell to the sticky nights and the prickly heat. HAH. Tears of joy.

» Posted By jambobuleh On 06.17.2012 @ 6:53 am


“I don’t want to sound brief when discussing this,” she said, choosing her words, “but I think it’s time we sell the–”

“NO!” Kel screamed. “There is nothing to discuss.”

» Posted By jambobuleh On 06.13.2012 @ 10:59 am


I’m switching to a better place
where the grass is greener
and the fences higher
and your neighbor doesn’t
mow his lawn all the time
i’m switching to a better place
where the sky is bluer
and the clouds are gone
and your neighbor’s wife
is as ugly as their lawn

» Posted By jambobuleh On 06.12.2012 @ 7:17 am


So maybe I’m not like the other eggs in the nest. My mother is pushing me to leave but it was warm and comfortable and just adequate. Like me. Like everything I wanted in life.

» Posted By jambobuleh On 06.09.2012 @ 11:52 am


What an interesting, transluscent, tangible word. Try saying it a few times. Study the letters. Listen to the syllables. Like any other word put apart it will lose its meaning. Suddenly, it’s nothing but a sonance of words against your tongue. How awkward.

» Posted By jambobuleh On 10.04.2011 @ 11:43 pm


It smelled of newly-pressed cloth. They say smell has memory and this is testament to it. This sweetness came from childhood. Don’t you ever think memories are messy things, but given time, they’ll align themselves neatly, in boxes one atop another; like linen shirts you never use because you’re scared to ruffle the rest.

» Posted By jambobuleh On 09.26.2011 @ 12:27 am


It was soft and clean and hand washed. Red. Velvety. The old owners took care of it. A stain of spaghetti. Stench of antiquity. There was a creak underneath its leg. My cat loves it. This is my exercise on adjectives

» Posted By jambobuleh On 09.21.2011 @ 11:50 pm


The tiger crouched underneath the bramble of bushes. She can tell her prey has not the slightest clue of her whereabouts. She can smell its fear as it held on to a metal stick that smelt of gunpowder and sweat.

» Posted By jambobuleh On 09.20.2011 @ 10:38 pm


It reminded me of a song that I’ve heard. Silly pop song beats with the capacity of nostalgia. I’ve wondered why the awful songs stick to you without you knowing–like lint maybe. Or relatives.

» Posted By jambobuleh On 09.19.2011 @ 7:02 pm

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