Coffee and rain
Christmas cottage
Whiskey breath
Talk of children
The touch of your breast
Little spoon
Dirty dishes
Dog eared paperback

Maybe next year
Another heartbeat
In the warm bed


Posted in Bad Poetry, Eddie O'KEEFE | No Comments »


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Maston – Swans
Ananda Shankar – Jumpin’ Jack Flash
Amen Dunes – Blue Flower
Roberto Cacciapaglia – My Time
Gus Daperton – Prune, You Talk Funny
Sam Evian – IDGAF
Slapp Happy – The Secret
Cut Worms – Think I Might Be In Love
Tony Kosinec – Your Constant View
Television Personalities – Diary Of A Young Man
Michael Seyer – Lucky Love
MGMT – Hand It Over
Frankie Cosmos – My Phone
Conan Mockasin – Faking Jazz Together
Cass McCombs – Not The Way
Dear Nora – Girl From The North Country
Hand Habits – Sun Beholds Me
Magnet – Willow’s Song

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I wrote and directed this short film back in 2012. It’s an earnest (and rather simplistic) love letter to America. Or the idea of America anyway. For various reasons it was never released. I thought it deserved to be out in the world in some capacity. Hope you dig.  EO

Featuring Brett ROBINSON as . . . The HERO

Executive Produced by OKRP
Produced by James LOURIE & Matt MANDARINO
Written, Directed & Edited by Eddie O’KEEFE
Cinematography by Delaney TEICHLER
Production Design by Samantha WALLSCHLAEGER
Costume Design by Chrissy CALLAN

Posted in American Folklore, Film | 1 Comment »


july lightning bug
windshield smear
like a memory from kidhood
endless gloaming
never night
the sounds then too

that’s what it felt like
when you touched my hand
when you sipped my beer
in Texas

bashful bodies
electric and soft
in the night

your smile
the smile of ten thousand
wise red suns
showing just for me

i would have called LA and
quit right then
lived under that roof
with you forever
in the dust
asking nothing
of one another and
kissing cuz we couldn’t not

can you recall those lights we saw in the desert
moving like ghosts across the sky
are those lights like our love

constant and true?

in a dream
in a whisper
i heard you say

i heard you say
maybe this house
is that house too


Posted in Bad Poetry | 1 Comment »


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The Durutti Column – Otis
Yves Tumor – The Feeling When You Walk Away
Arthur Russell – Your Motion Says
Morabeza Tobacco – TTYL
Stevie Dinner – Manic Phases
Midnight Sister – Blue Cigar
Jay Som – Pirouette
Avi Buffalo – What’s In It For?
Baby Chuck – Old Friends Old Habits
Juan Wauters – Water
Mourning Sun – Where’s Love Gone Today
John Grant – Outer Space
Karl Blau – Make Love That Lasts
Rolling Blackouts Coastal Fever – Dig Up
Gloria Ann Taylor – How Can You Say It
Clarence Carter – Light My Fire
The Pharaohs – Tracks Of My Tears
George McGregor – Temptation Is Hard To Fight

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Jeff Cowell – Not Down This Low
Jimmy Carter And Dallas County Green – Honey Dew
John Hartford – This Eve Of Parting
Norma Tanega – Walkin’ My Cat Named Dog
Tucker Zimmerman – She’s An Easy Rider
Michael Nau – I Root
Tenniscoats – Papaya
Arthur Russell – Make 1,2
Jim James – I Just Wasn’t Made For These Times
Belly – Untogether

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Nino Rota – Toby Dammit (Main Titles)
Norma Tanega – You’re Dead
Ariel Pink’s Haunted Grafiti – Fright Night (Nevermore)
Peter Sulley & The Orchard – Evil Woman
Dave Edmunds – The Creature From The Black Lagoon
Jonathan Richman – Vampire Girl
The Frights – Afraid of the Dark
Roky Erickson – I Think of Demons
The Cleaners From Venus – Only a Shadow
King Khan & The Shrines – In Your Grave
The Meteors – Little Red Riding Hood
Chromatics – Shadow
Crystal Stilts – Graveyard Orbit
Los Holy’s – Campo de Vampiros
OCS – Memory of a Cut Off Head
John Maus – Castles In The Grave
Steady Holiday – Terror
Islands – Of Corpse
Animals – Gratefully Dead, Vol. 4
Wand – Floating Head
White Reaper – Make Me Wanna Die
The Symposium – Creeper
Dave Dee, Dozy, Beaky, Mick & Titch – Hold Tight!
Nino Rota – Toby Dammit Theme (Slow)

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Posted in Mixtape | 4 Comments »


old dog
black tongue
I think of you often
when you ran
open door-spring rain
worms on the walkway
where would you go
you left so little
on me

I don’t remember you
but you slept in my bed
comforters warm under your
dog belly
black eyes
we’d wipe the sleep
and when we’d find you
(we always found you)
wet with warpaint
the color of aprilmay
We’d hold you tight
not imagining
a day your temper
would be lost on us forever

weeks and years come
old dog
they don’t stop
it’s been so long since
I really
I mean really
smelled the rain


Posted in Bad Poetry, Eddie O'KEEFE | 6 Comments »


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Fruit Bats – Flamingo
Courtney Barnett & Kurt Vile – Blue Cheese
Abner Jay – My Baby’s Coming Back To Me
Fred Neil – The Dolphins
The Byrds – Everybody’s Been Burned
Ultra Orange& Emmanuelle – Don’t Kiss Me Goodbye
Wreckeless Eric – Whole Wide World
The db’s – Black and White
Wire – Ahead
Lindsay Buckingham – Trouble
Alex Cameron & Angel Olsen – Stranger’s Kiss
Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers – Walls (Circus)
The Space Lady – Humdinger

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The thought came to Kate abruptly and arbitrarily, interrupting the other panicked voices in her head, the ones shouting, “Fucking do something, Kate!” and “Keep swimming!” Like a conductor waving a baton, it silenced the orchestra of anxiety crescendoing in her head, leaving only the resonance of a solitary thought: Nobody knows I’m here right now.

It was Sam that had said it, with a deadpan expression on her face: “And then I realized, nobody knows I’m here right now.” The phrase had sent a chill through Kate’s spine as if it was some kind of cryptic omen. This was months and months ago, and Kate hadn’t really thought about it since.

But now, far from shore and struggling to tread water in the immensity of the Pacific Ocean, the thought was a blown-out siren. Big block text, all capitals, flashing against a red backdrop: Nobody knows I’m here right now. And as Kate looked up at the towering wave suspended in front of her – it’s powerful momentum sucking up all of the sound and light of the coast – that same chill ran through her spine.

Kate snapped her head back to the deserted beach, swallowing a mouthful of salt water. Nobody was there. Nobody had been there all afternoon. She turned back to the mounting wave, which had doubled in size in an instant.

The way that Sam had told it, she was driving back home from work when she realized she didn’t have anything in her fridge except for a carton of expired milk and a half empty bottle of hickory smoked barbecue sauce. “And I totally forgot to eat lunch,” Sam had told Kate, “And you know me – I was star- ving.” Sam had stopped the story there, squinting into her purse as she rummaged past wrinkled receipts and rogue sticks of gum. Kate had been unsure if this was the end of the story or not, and after a moment asked, “So what did you do?”

“Here it is!” Sam exclaimed, pulling a credit card out of her purse. “Sorry, Kate – what’d you say?”
“What did you do?”

“Oh – oh yeah, so I’m starving, right? And nothing’s open except for that little convenience store down the street from me – the one with the green awning that’s always playing reggaeton? So I’m like, “Shit,” you know, because I want to eat like a pizza or a burrito or something, and I know all that place is going to have is old gross cans of tuna and Funyuns. But nothing else is open so I went in and bought a bag of trail mix and a Diet Coke.”

Sam stopped again, sliding her credit card across the counter to the bartender. She ran her fingers through her hair, looking at herself in the oval mirror behind the bar. Kate nodded, once again unsure if this was the ending to Sam’s story. But then Sam turned back from the mirror, saying, “But when I walked into the parking lot, I remembered that I hadn’t talked with Jake all day. And I didn’t tell anyone at work what my plans were for the night. And then I realized, nobody knows I’m here right now. Nobody knows I’m here, standing in this empty parking lot.”

Sam ended the story by tossing back a shot of tequila, stubbing out her cigarette in the plastic ashtray: “So I went home, and Jake was already at my place, and he asked me where I had been. I don’t know why, but I lied and said I got stuck in traffic. I didn’t want to tell him about stopping at the store, or standing in the parking lot, or thinking about how nobody knew where I was. Is that weird? I don’t know.”

At first, the phrase haunted Kate: Nobody knows I’m here right now. It would pop into her head while she was pumping gas, or hiking up the trail behind her house – all the little lonely moments in life when she would find herself alone, temporarily detached from the world spinning around. But after a few days, the thought began to dim and fade, until it disappeared completely.

Kate’s decision to go to the beach that day was impulsive – without any rhyme or reason: she was in her bathroom brushing her teeth and thinking about Amelia Earhart and then all of a sudden she was driving down the PCH, and then she was walking down the side of the road, and then she was laying out her towel across the sand, and then she was walking into the ocean.

By the time Kate was waist deep, the surf that had been crashing along the shore vanished. The water was eerily calm; stagnate and smooth as glass. The vacant shore behind her looked perfectly flat. A second later she was under water, being dragged across the rocky ocean floor. When she came to the surface, gasping for air, she saw a wave growing in front of her. It dragged her towards it with all the blind force of mother nature.

And it was then that she realized she didn’t tell anyone that she was going to the beach that afternoon. In fact, she hadn’t talked to anyone all day.

Nobody knows I’m here right now.

The thought passed through her head once more, this time not spoken by Sam, but by a choir of dissonant voices that she didn’t recognize. Before she could let out a scream, the wave crashed down on top of her in a blur of blues and greens and whites, taking her under.


Posted in Bad Prose, Eric HEHR | No Comments »

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