Ever feel trapped in Indiana?

I just keep getting caught up in the sexy world of freelance editing (and writing on my novel project, among other distractions), and I've been neglecting my blog duties. So, here is a long-winded, half-assed first draft of a poem about mobsters extrapolated from my adventures in Indiana. I'll post a good, or at least better than this, poem later on.

J. Lannan
“Indiana”

Headed east
We were two
Driving
Cornfield-flanked
Highways
Formerly three
In this business
It’s viscous

Wrong steps
Wrong streets
Wrong way
High roller
One day

The next
Dismembered
In the trunk
Stuffed inside
Louis V luggage
Absconding Chicago
Cost akin
To a casket

Bad breed
Bad blood
Bad luck
Engine light,
Oh fuck

Slowing down
Grinding halt
Gravel
Shoulder lines
Out to pasture
Drivers stop
Move along
We’re fine

Far from it
Far from safe
Far from stable
Next the cops
Are we able?

To hide the body
Fast and thorough
In the ditch?
To the field?
One will go
I will hold
Them here
Halfway done

Too slow
Too kind
Too late
Assistance
Ruminate

Upon this
Predicament
Hotel stay
Towed away
Grisly cargo
Blood stained
Carpet
Now what?

Cruel time
Cruel chance
Cruel fate
Will they find?
Now we wait

Crooked cop
Problem solver
Not a spot
They find
Revolver
Put away
Evidence
En route

No charge
No words
No merit
New freedom
Inherit

Falling Off the Face of the Earth

It's similar to that, but I went on vacation to Illinois, mostly Chicago, and then my new used car broke down in Indiana stranding us for a few days. We met helpful sheriffs around Columbia City who allowed us to get in the back of their cruiser and took us to wait at McDonalds for the tow truck guy, who was also super helpful. The cruiser was lacking in leg room, but I suspect that it serves its purpose of transporting rowdy dudes to the local drunk tank, and not driving around a family of four in the back.

I will be venturing back into the glamorous world of snap-together wood flooring today, but I promise lots of pictures, not of wood flooring, but from a long time ago in Cleveland, my fantastic time in Pittsburgh at the Ayria and Project Pitchfork show, and my recent adventures in Chicago.

I also started reading Skip Press's "How to Write What You Want & Sell What You Write," which seems to be a useful thing. My grandfather purchased the book for me.

My novel project is kind of becoming three projects because I thought it would be interesting to tell one character's story first (because it allows me to explain how the demonic characters and angelic characters work in my system).

So I'll include a few of my favorite cover songs and go on to my flooring adventure for the day, but I'll have some shit together tonight most likely (Depending on how this floor goes together)...