Live at Sally O’s, live album

For Dig higher resolution sallys-poster1011

Give a listen.  For a limited time, we will be streaming the full live set of Subpar Co-star’s show at Sally O’Brien’s in Union Sq. Somerville, MA from October 11th.  This was the last show Subpar played before going on hiatus to record a new album (also, James became a father and wanted to relish the new role.)

Hope you enjoy the show and it lets you laugh and cry and sing-a-long, as Subpar goes from tune to tune to poetry to jesting to hugging to saying “see you in a while, crocodile.” (you, being the crocodile.)

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The Big Tip; a cheesy seduction (100th post)

My Customer leaned on the frame of the open doorway in front of me wearing nothing but a smile and a pink thong.  She was attractively built with boobs standing at attention as best they could for a woman her age.  I pegged her at fifty, but naked flesh always confuses my concept of age.  I stood on the front steps of her house, mouth agape, wearing nothing but my Domino’s pizza delivery uniform with a large cheese pizza in my hands.

“Why hello, Mr. Dominos,” She said and I could almost hear the wink in her voice.

“Hello,” I lamely said back.  “You ordered a pizza?”

“A nice, hot one,” she replied, a bit too practiced.

“Yup, definitely is.” I nodded, feeling the box burning in my hands.  It felt similar to my face.

She leaned forward, tits first, and sniffed the air above the pizza box.

“mmm,” She moaned.

“mmhmm,” I replied

She pulled the top of the box open, making sure her chest stayed in full view.  Her back arched as if the steam of the pizza was too hot for her bare flesh, then she leaned forward even further to inspect the $9 pie I carried.

“Oh, what’s this?” She asked with a teasing pout.

“One large, cheese pizza,” I answered having trouble looking away from her nipples.

“Cheese?”  She raised an eyebrow to match the inflection in her voice.  Her left pointer finger gave the cheese a quick stroke before being pulled into her mouth.  She gave me a slow motion demonstration of how deep it could go.  She pulled it sensually back past her lips.  Her eyes closed just as the fingernail slid out.

“mmmm.”

“mmhmm.”

“I was certain I asked for a large sausage.”  Her emphasis on the word sausage held the subtlety of a gangbang.

I opened my mouth to respond, but hadn’t figured out what I was going to say.  The result was a stammered, “oh.”

“I guess we’ll just have to get creative, Mr. Dominos.  Why don’t you come in while I grab your money?  I’ll make sure it’s a big tip.”

“That’s nice of you,” I said.  I looked at the threshold of the front door.  The house inside seemed like another world.  The entryway was filled with beautiful flowers carefully tucked into crystal vases sitting atop cherry stained end tables.  A smattering of elegant picture frames flanked each of the vases.  The picture frames contained photos of my customer, fully clothed and smiling, with a number of various people.  The most prominent picture frame held the faces of two smiling teenagers.  Judging by the shape of their cheeks and noses, they were her sons.  I looked at the threshold again.  It seemed like an impossibly long step to take.

My customer took a few steps back, away from the door.  She made sure to turn and show me that her thong had nothing but a string covering her ass.  She started to pat her naked flesh, as if it had pockets.

“hmm, where did I put that money?”

Her right hand strayed to her left breast and gave the nipple a tweak.  Her left hand roamed down to her thong.  She lightly played with her crotch, a smile on her lips as she stared at me.  Her left eyebrow rose seductively.

“Oh,” She said in a tone that had nothing to do with money, “here it is.”

I stared dumbly at her left hand currently caressing her crotch.  She took the opportunity to pull the right side of her thong slightly to the side.  A $20 bill was tucked between her lingerie and her shaved skin.

“Well, go ahead,” She cooed.  “Come get your big tip.”

My eyes lowered to the pizza box in my hands, giving a passing glance to the picture frame of the teenagers.  Their smiles felt accusing.  My mind had trouble sorting out my current circumstance.  Being a delivery boy, I felt responsible to make sure the pizza made it inside the house.

I stepped over the threshold.  Then bent forward and placed the box steadily on the wooden floor next to My Customer’s barefeet.  She moved them slightly apart, spreading her legs wider.  My hands free of the pizza, I stood up straight.

Her tongue lightly ran over her top lip and her smile grew wider.  Her left hand strayed a little deeper into the depths of her crotch.

‘mmhmm,’ I thought.  My right hand tentatively reached toward the thong.  I took a deep breath, then made my move-

-“mmmmm.”-

-I yanked the $20 bill from the depths of her thong, spun on my heels, and sprinted to the delivery truck waiting outside.  I jumped into the driver’s seat, threw it into reverse, and got the hell out of there.

Once, I was safely down the street on my way back to Domino’s, I gave myself a silent pat on the back for leaving the truck running.  I took a deep breath then lit a cigarette.  After a couple of drags, I wondered if My Customer had wanted change.  I began to laugh at the thought, softly at first, but picking up steam with each chuckle.   By the time I pulled into the Domino’s parking lot, I was laughing so hard I had to wipe the tears from my eyes.  I waited outside the store until my giggles subsided and finished my cigarette.

I put my hands in my pocket as I headed inside and felt the $20 bill rustle against my fingertips.  FanFan, my manager, was inside behind the register putting delivery labels on pizza boxes.

“How was the delivery?” he asked.

I thought for a second.

“All in all, it was a success,” I said.  “Got an $11 tip on a cheese.”

“Bullshit,” FanFan said. “How’d you manage that?”

“Just a overly friendly customer,” I said.  “It would have been even bigger if the pizza had sausage on it.”

FanFan gave me a puzzled look.  “Did she order a sausage pizza?”

“She tried,” I said, “but her sons ruined the order.”

It took FanFan a minute, but then his face broke into a wide smile as understanding began to dawn on him.  He gave a hearty laugh.  “My man, you should have made sure you got that order right.  Would have been a hell of a tip.”

“Yeah,” I said and grabbed my next order.  “Fucking teenagers ruin everything.”

 

Messy Hair

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Starbucks, Americano

Starbucks

Sitting behind the tall windows,

staring at moving pictures of people

walking back and forth down Harvard Sq

waiting for my Americano to cool down.

A chinaman argues with an Iraqi

over parking validation a block away.

A homeless, negro woman long over due in death

asks to borrow my phone to call a shelter

for a place to sleep the night away.

“I’m not good with numbers,”

she says to me.

“I’ll dial,” I respond,

“you just talk.”

“I can do that,” she says, “I can do that.”

30 busy signals in seven minutes

before it finally rings.

“It’s a competition,” she says.

“You’ll win,” I respond.

I hand her the phone.

She huddles in her chair

like a guinea pig in a cage

as I sip an Americano.

“It’s validated!” the chinaman screams,

“I want to speak to your manager.”

“I am the manager,” the Iraqi replies.

The negro woman hands me my phone.

She doesn’t talk.

Not one word.

“Is everything set?” I ask.

She smiled a nearly toothless smile.

“I ain’t never won a thing in my life.”

She picks up a grocery bag of her life’s belongings

and walks slowly out of the Starbucks.

“I’m goddamn glad we’re bombing your country,”

I hear the chinaman say.

“Tell it to your child slaves,” the Iraqi responds.

Neither one watching the old lady

as she passes them by.

I just sit and stare from behind the tall Starbucks glass

before throwing out my Americano

for being too cold.

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Death of Antiquity

lots of sky

Grandpa died like an antique

taking 25 years to leave.

I remember him only broken.

so,

I don’t know why

I bother collecting the pieces.

if I had them all

I wouldn’t know how they fit.

instead,

I assemble a misshapen puzzle

the ever-expanding picture priceless to me

and refuse to appraise it

for fear it’s as worthless as fear can be.

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A Blessed Man

Pink Canopy
A Blessed Man walked up to me
a ragged backpack slung over his left shoulder
a handrolled cigarette between his remaining eleven teeth
    -smoldering
letting out pathetic wisps of smoke.
“Let me cut the bullshit,”
he said.
“There is a Peter Pan bus coming around in an hour
and I need to hook a ride.
You look like a good kid and I got $10 in my pocket
But I need 9 more to get where I’m heading.”
I refused the initial impulse
to ignore the Blessed Man,
maybe it was something he had said.
“All I got is change,” I replied.
Then reached deep in my pocket to give him what I would.
“Do you want the pennies?”
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Late Night Pizza Line after the Bar

before now

“Leave it alone, or I’ll fuck you like a bitch.”

“I don’t know why she says his dick’s small.”

“Youda man!”

“You’re a cunt.”

giggle

“Shit!”

“Get away from me! I’m gonna puke.”

“Best sales on drunk shopping every week.”

“Can I get a slice of cheese?”

“We only have pepperoni.”

“but I’m vegan.”

“What are you writing?”

Absolutely nothing.

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In the end

Going up

I’m leaving

the way I came in

some may joke

there is not

a vagina that big,

but

I believe

Mother Nature

will arrange it.

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