the wheels on the bus

go round go round they spin like the night sky swirling around the old man moon its frowning wrinkled face all aglow tucked in beneath the soft edges of the fog like the golden smile swallowed by sweet sky cunt sitting way out there way up there in the dark out there within the deep deep dark starless sky

starlight starbright
somebody done stole
the stars tonight

reached right up
put 'em in a bag
pull one out
light up a fag

the wheels on the bus

go round go round taking us on down the road way down through the dark trees on either side of us big old scraggly pines and cedars to the left of us big old scraggly cedars and pines to the right of us ugly twisted gnarled and bitter fuckers looming over us long wretched fingers stretching drooping reaching fingers dripping spun sugar shredded cotton candy

filtering the light of that harvest moon

like when we were children naked beneath the thin white cotton sheet on a hot late august night fading flashlight weak batteries slowly carefully scanning the pages of our older cousin's penthouse trying to read the forum

ah remember the young woodies given almost blessed by the penthouse forum

skipping over the regular run of the mill tales of the college boy schtupping his roommate's girlfriend of johnny boy getting head in the dressing room at macy's from the hot hot shoe sales lady a wink and a grin at the local piggly wiggly ending up on the shag floor of the van in the parking lot don't come a knockin' if this van is rockin'

no no too tame

for a humid sweaty evening

no no instead

finding zeroing in on the odd tale of fucking a warm turkey with dressing right before serving thanksgiving dinner of using an amputee's wheelchair to gain leverage rollerderby leverage on a good hard screw no legs to get in the way of that classic tale that of the man who fucked the empty eye socket of his one-eyed girlfriend

goddamn

the wheels of the bus

go round and round late on a thursday night coming home on the victory bus junior high football way back then way back when hot hot debbie crowley took my hand and slid it up beneath her sweater beneath her bra

she a hot italian air force brat lost in crackertown her stern faced old man thinking it a good place to retire me a horny cracker kid lost in his own world lost within his own soul stranger in a strange land the wonders of a pert fourteen year old nipple between thumb and forefinger the moan contrived or real it doesn't matter the feeling so new the feeling so raw the intensity of lust confused with love my cock so hard it hurts

even later that night as i jack off in the darkness of my room tee rex playing telegraph sam on my eight track stereo it hurts all the while i stroke to the chaotic rhythm of my blue lava lamp

that girl she drove me insane

on saturdays i ride my bike five miles out the flat highway headed to the edge of town the road to fucking nowhere running hard running away from the town in the middle of fucking nowhere it ain't even on the way to somewhere not anywhere just sitting there in the middle of the swamp still sitting there rotting away slowly rotting away

like love itself

i would ride my bike three miles out the flat highway to her family's one story brick ranch sitting amidst a couple acres of needle and cone strewn lawn peppered litter dropped from the scattered tall skinny pines the afternoon sunlight blotched and blotted it don't matter it's hot in the shade out of the shade

me and debbie

she's hot in the shade out of the shade

she sneaks me in the back door while her dad is out playing golf while her mom is out getting groceries we sit on her couch and make out with our clothes on

grabbing squeezing scratching kissing biting humping giggling wiggling quivering shivering

the feeling so raw the intensity of lust confused with love my cock so hard it hurts

even later that night as i jack off in the darkness of my room jimi hendrix playing if six was nine on my eight track stereo it hurts all the while as i stroke to the chaotic rhythm of my blue lava lamp

the wheels of the bus

go round go round sitting on the bus the team bus we're on our way home after the game after the massive inter village battle of ninth grade titans our running back juan tucker

a beefy negro

with a wild nappy country fro and a shit eating grin he ran all over the lions from hamburg we were his supporting cast we wore the white and blue proudly dove into the mud sacrificed ourselves and our uniforms to get the hell out of the way of his loco legs lions six billies thirty six we be the billies like in billy goat not like in hillbillies us being in the swamp don't you know

we're on the bus yelling screaming somewhat segregated the whites mostly up front the blacks in the back a dee em zee in the middle occasionally the whispered words stupid crackers stupid niggers all mixed together and shaped in our dirty filthy hands like balls of mud floated quietly about and through the bus among and amongst us ignorant phrases learned from dads and uncles and preachers those of us in the dmz wincing with each utterance

father forgive us we know not what we say

we're all stupid kids rednecks niggers alike just trying to figure it out just trying to find our place put others in theirs don't you know on the tee vee we see old white men sitting at a table in paris that's in france with a bunch of little asian dudes wearing mao suits signing stacks of paper our parents yelling in the background about how we've surrendered to the gooks

now don't you just know we can all rally against the gooks we can all come together against the gooks

they are the them

we see the old white dude president telling us he's not a crook we know he's a crook our parents yelling in the background of course he's a crook they're all crooks

we see our regularly scheduled tee vee shows interrupted for a special news report about the egyptians invading israel on some holiday we've never heard we know no jews but we are told they're the good guys we cheer them on like we do the football team

push 'em back push 'em back waaaaay back

we're on the bus yelling screaming chanting martial rhymes juan tucker standing up in the middle of the bus him shouting a line all of us shouting it back

he say i don't know but i been told

we say i don't know but i been told

he say eskimo pussy be mighty cold

we say eskimo pussy be mighty cold

he say sound off we say one two he say sound off we say three four he say sound off we say one two three four

one two

three four

then he does it again and again juan is our leader we follow his charge we love him not like i love debbie crowley not like i crave debbie crowley paul knudsen the team manager he leans over he says that he thinks debbie crowley has great tits i elbow him in the gut tell him to shut his gay mouth i daydream of hot hot debbie crowley as juan leads his chants yeah we love him yeah we follow him it's all fine and well and a proud moment for the federal inspectors we have running our school system but we

at least us white boys

we well we'll never see him after school we'll never see him once we're gone that's just the way it is

that's just the way it was

the coach he drives the bus he leans over the big steering wheel leaning into the headlights shimmering in the fog every now and then he twists a knob the wiper blades swipe the steamy mist from the windshield we're on a long straight road rolled out tar and gravel built up on a thick muddy grade half filled drainage ditches miles long mosquito moats alongside running forever

juan stops mid chant he turns toward the front of the bus he yells holding onto his crotch with one hand the other balancing himself against the wall of the bus he yells hey coach

the bus goes quiet

juan he cinches up his grip on his crotch he yells through the silence hey coach

the coach he says he slowly turns his head semi cautiously he slowly turns he says keeping one eye on the road watching for cars that will never come it is indeed the road to nowhere only those going nowhere really ride it he slowly turns he says

yeah

juan he says looking around at all of us he says hey coach we all gots to piss we gots to piss real bad he looks back down at us we all nod in agreement we all start to yell we say yeah hey coach we all got to piss we all got to take a leak

the coach he tips his hat back off his forehead the bus slows it slows slowly the coach he don't like to waste the brakes wants to keep 'em full never know when you might need 'em the wheels on the bus go round go round

til they don't

and bus door opens with a long low squeak more of a moan maybe a moo perhaps a growling moo we all start to scramble for the front the coach he stands up he blocks our way he says he holds up his hand like a traffic cop in times square he blows his whistle we stop he says wait just a minute he says we gonna do this in an

organized fashion

we form two lines at the back of the bus the coach he goes to the front of the lines he says just like he does when we're at practice and we're running some drill like when he throws the ball down between two of us and we have to both go for it scrambling around on the ground hitting biting kicking each other trying to find grab the ball receive the coaches praise we get mean

grabbing squeezing scratching kissing biting humping giggling wiggling quivering shivering

the feeling so raw the intensity of lust confused with love my cock so hard it hurts

until one of has the ball

he says standing between the two lines at the back of the bus juan he interrupts he yells hand still on crotch aw come on coach i really gotta go the coach he says not paying attention not pausing a bit he says the key to this drill here men is balance stamina and

focus

he says

observe

and he unzips his pants let's his coach sized cock hang open hang loose he begins to pee and run backwards leaving a long steamy trail on the road he runs backwards until he completes his piss until his lizard is drained he gets a good fifteen twenty yards down the road

he comes walking back tucking it back in zipping up as he approaches wipes his hands on his pants leg he says running the back of his hand along his forehead he says you men got that now we all say

yeah coach he says

i can't hear you we yell

yeah coach he says well all right then

line 'em up

juan tucker is at the front of one line tim lanier the quarterback yeah he's a white guy tim lanier he's at the front of the other line the coach he says ready they undo trou they let cocks loose the coach he says set they each grab a cock their own cock the coach he says go

they pee sprint backwards legs pumping high breathing hard tim he even grunts a bit all the while two urinary trails chase them they pass the coach's marker go another five six yards then juan he stumbles he's a bold competitor he stumbles he misfires hits one of his shoes some old untied converse he recovers keeps going

then tragically like he's at gallipoli juan he exhausts his supply of gatorade he stops head down fierce competitor that he is

he can't lose he hates to lose the agony of defeat has him shaking while tim he slides to a stop a couple yards further down into the darkness gives his cock a shake raises his hands above his head the thrill of victory

starlight starbright
somebody done stole
the stars tonight

reached right up
put 'em in a bag
pull one out
light up a fag

the coach he says next

and we line up we undo trou we run backwards we pee few of us break past the coach's marker none of pass juan's much less tim's he wins he's the quarterback it's the way it's supposed to be

we get back on the bus a little less rowdy

an owl flies low in front through the headlights

and the wheels on the bus go round go round and all that

  

oh i know the heat

darlin i know all about the way the heat affect a man i know the way the heat the humidity it just seeps deep into a man's bones infiltrates the blood gets all cozy with a man's very soul

oh i know the heat

don't watch out the heat it can drive a man it can weigh a man down it can suck him down like the quicksand do bwana jim in a tarzan movie the only thing left is that beige pith helmet floating on top of the mud jane standing naked up in the branches

laughing

oh i know the heat

i know the only way to play the heat the only way to be in the heat just gotta let the heat pass right on through you just gotta let it fill you up pour out the pores let it flow let it flow let it go

judo not sumo
don't you know

sitting down there in austin town sitting in my canvas folding chair imported all the way from the outer banks of san francisco just sitting down there me and the heat we be one i got a special relationship with the heat i got a love that don't quit i gotta love that she can't spit

we're sitting down there in austin town deep in the heart of texas my yellow rose of texas she's the only rose for me

sitting down in the big old dusty field music all around us people all around us barefooted hippie chicks stoned ground white flour rasta boys metal heads biker babes preppie boys with week old khakis fraternity girls wearing their poolside finest with the high heeled espadrilles

baby why'd you give away them espadrilles

old rednecks with boots and bandannas young jarheads let loose for the weekend we're all out for fun and hijinks and the light and the lightness and we don't give a shit about nothing about nothing but the good times

my yellow rose sings me songs of longing of life back when back in the day when we were broke and didn't give a damn she in austin me in atlanta we didn't even know each other we've known each other our entire lives goddamn

tells me tales of tits and tanktops drinking and driving pillpopping playfulness and pal'ing around everything be good

lo the light of god shine upon us and he say it be good

except not so good for little old francisco i read about him in the morning papers i read about him in the evening papers little old francisco he be just thirteen when that old man shot him when the old man shot him right in the back lined him and his buddies up on the trailer floor on the floor of the tornado target lined 'em up an shot lil old fancisco dead

thirteen and dead

dead like a doorknob dust to dust doo doo to dingleberry

goddamn let us pray let us get down on our knees and pray

i'm a loser baby why don't you kill me

says so right there in the austin american statesman right there on page one i'm a loser baby so why don't you kill me

it took the jury of eight men and four women three hours to find jose luis gonzalez sixty three not guilty of murdering little old francisco who was thirteen when he and three friends broke into luis' trailer to rummage for snacks and soda one night way back in jew lie two double ought seven

i meet a louis not a luis at the festival louis i mean i find out later his name is louis i don't know his name is louis when i start talking to him louis he's standing in front of me gogol bordello they are screaming anarchist fuck songs

goddamn they touch my heart

louis he sniffs his nose to the air like my old basset hound balls swinging low and free like i wish mine could be louis he sniffs double sniffs he smells the aroma of jah drifting he is scoobie doo lifted up into the air by haile selassie his godself conquering lion of the tribe of judah he turns he catches my eye gives the international sign of the

hey kind dude will you share the jah love

i grin nod motion with the bowl he breaks white boy pseudo reggae shuffle into that what am i grateful for wiggle that i'm grateful for jah and jah's hero dance

he louis he starts to go into this whole long tale of woe yo man you know i flew here they frighten me the tea ess ay they be so so suspicious now don't you know give me the heebie jeebies i grin smirk smile say

shut the fuck up and suck the pipe

we all come in from somewhere my brother we all got our demons those little devils that give us the night chills we all come in from somewhere my friend the thing is you just lack the appropriate

creativity

combined with that critical couple of cajones and a few drops of luck sheer serendipity that special sparkle that sends us down this path or that pre-ordained tis fate tis kismet tis the kiss of time itself

he hits the bowl we small talk we make jokes we laugh we do the stoner's festival bond he turns around so it goes as the world turns around and around big ball of fuck

girlfriend she comes wandering in from somewhere she is a creature on the roam she is in her natural habitat she is a festival frau she sings songs of sixpence pockets full of posies we're deep in the heart of texas she's the yellow rose of texas the only rose for me

she says hey lemme tell you a story lemme tell you a dream she whispers trickling bubbling brooks of lingering love tales meandering like the rio grande

tickles my balls
make me swoon
spoon and plate
run off to the moon

two rather large redneck hippie punk dykes amble by big bite the heads off chickens dykes rottweiller dykes obviously having spent a number of the early morning hours on their respective looks du jour one with a colorful frizzy bouffant a swirl of hair swept up and over sending me into a snapping double take first glance seeing a wounded tripping rainbow skunk sitting atop her broad shoulders second glance revealing the ugly truth next to skunky chick is her buddy pal friend with a moe-fro phosphorescent green splats in the split

girlfriend her story stops midstream ah such a teasing tale such a teasing tail she stops her story somewhere around the black tank top atop of purple bra with black knit miniskirt sashaying about the austin streets on drunken nights she stops midstream our eyes both pair follow the dykes right to left and on behind would be that we were linda blair but they leave our field of vision

the story left untold just like the never ending tale of jesus christ himself tis fitting she my christ she my baptismal pool i want to dip myself into her waters she girlfriend she has to go cool off

oh the heat i do know the heat

she has to go cool off she gives me a kiss it's hot kiss full lips of fire she gives me a kiss it's hot she's hot the kiss is hot she got those hot lips she heads over to the ay tea and tee tent all these hippies and don't you know it's still a corporate event we got the dell dome we got the ay tea and tee stage we got the ay em dee stage just like the fucking so called

democratic convention

what a fucking name sort of like carlin's bless his dead and buried soul sort of like carlin's mutually exclusive terms military intelligence jumbo shrimp democratic convention held at pepsi center sponsored by yes you gotta love it by ay tea and tee these same cocksuckers that obama let off the hook yes he did he say it's oh kay to spy on de peoples cuz i jes know you only gonna be spying on dem bad people with rags on dey's heads

cocksucker

he's a cunt mccain's a cunt bush is a cunt

hell he is from texas and texas is filled with fucking cunts i mean don't you know that texan jose luis gonzalez is a cunt

he shot a little boy in the back with a sixteen gauge shotgun killed him dead killed him so he won't get better shot the boy right in the back

jose luis he say he thanks god and his attorney the jury and the judge

jose luis is a cunt his attorney is a cunt the judge is a cunt the jury is a dozen cunts come together to make one big texas cunt

and the band plays on

and the boy still be dead for he so loved the world that he gave his only twinkie

we me and girlfriend we wander through the streets of austin late at night she points here she points there she points out old haunts the ones still standing there ones no longer there she points to an alley tells me of her friend her gay texas cowboy pal who like to find young bucking broncos take them behind the trash bins for a fuck

six seven times a night

i say feeling rather inadequate i say damn who could get it up six seven times a night after drinking snorting smoking she smile she say no sugar he wasn't giving he was taking

ah the days before we were scared to death of them bugs

the next morning our eyes slide up over the horizon with the sun we're coughing up last night's dust into the heavily conditioned air we think about heading back over the festival going over to check out the drive by truckers i dig those guys i run my hands down her legs i don't dig them that much i convince her it's better for some drive by fucking instead

the austin american statesman it say a man accused of killing a child who broke into his home looking for a snack has been acquitted in a case that sparked outrage in this border city where many thought the man should not have been charged

i guess that was a kind of a drive by fucking as well

kind of like girlfriend's friend in the alley

we get to the show it's hot it's hot it's a hot saturday hot sweet young thing standing in front of me she standing shaking shimmying in a brown dress she moved like syrup to erika badhu slowly hiking up the dress her right hand all the way up in the air her left between her legs the cloth sheer i can see through to the other side the shadow the silhouette of her thighs

i want to run hide in the shadows

erika badhu sings you brought me poetry you were my first girlfriend she say she whisper nibble into my ear i'm the first to write her poetry

i like that better

great giggly jigglies

the batman couple this dude maybe forty five six seven fucking bat-tastic built like a brick wall about five ten long tight black leather pants the fucker got to be crazy don't he know how hot it is out here

the chafing of the thighs
ain't a pretty thing
the laughing off the highs
let me hear you sing

tight black pants tucked into black cowboy boots no shirt but he got a big ol bat belt buckle and across his buff barren chest his rippling abdomen is a bold red tattoo of the bat signal shining bat like pink tinted sunglasses short spiked bleach blond hair spiked into

yes

bat ears

his grin taut and turned upside down goddamn i wonder if he practiced in the mirror at home if it was just a natch'rl thing

his babe his woman his bat chick by comparison quite tame short black bat hair biker tits in a tank top

he grabs her by the back by the nape of the neck her throat exposed she give herself up he kisses her on the neck

he grins

that upside down grin

she swoons laughs he laughs they wander off through the crowd

that's hot oh yeah girl i know hot

darlin i know all about the way the heat affect a man i know the way the heat the humidity it just seeps deep into a man's bones infiltrates the blood gets all cozy with a man's very soul

oh i know the heat

don't watch out the heat it can drive a man it can weigh a man down it can suck him down like the quicksand do bwana jim in a tarzan movie the only thing left is that beige pith helmet floating on top of the mud jane standing naked up in the branches

laughing

oh i know the heat

francisco's aunt she asked not to be named in this story she say she was disappointed in the verdict

yeah no shit

i bet them boys were disappointed in the verdict too i bet them boys were disappointed that there even had to be a verdict them boys the ones who lived them boys say they were begging for forgiveness when luis our hero luis hit them with the barrel of the shotgun and kicked them and hit them and kicked them and hit them and kicked them then they say our hero luis shot little old francisco right in the back

two mashed twinkies and some cookies were stuffed in the pockets of his shorts goddamn a man gotta protect his property in texas a man allowed to protect his property with deadly force

fuck them baby boys

steal a man's twinkie get fucked up

get fucked up dead

luis he say i thank god and my attorney the jury the judge it was a case where it was my life or theirs he say he was sorry for the tragedy but it was a situation in which i feared for my life

me hell i say well all righty then

we me girlfriend our old friend our new friends we dance we sing we kick up some dust we paint our face we eat good food we eat bad food we laugh we love

luis he rejoiced
me and girlfriend we be fed
boys will be boys
but little old francisco he be dead

we listen to nero play his fiddle while austin burns and all that

the world is my martini sometime shaken sometime stirred usually quite dry with an extra olive ah the world my world it shakes yes it shakes just a bit like jesus awakening from the tomb

he will awaken he will return i wait here anxiously anticipating his coming this second coming i'm well past the beginning of the second half and when he comes the world will be perfect i will return to his bosom i will return to his ways

i will get down on my knees and suck at the cock of his spirit

i wish i may i wish i might

the little house on the prairie the little house on the hill the little hole in the wall ain't no jack no jill

but lo the kitchen it's starlight starbright and clean the floors a luxurious linoleum checkered black and white and spotless not even the stray spattering of grease near the stove not even the spare scattering of crumbs from the toaster whose sparkling stainless steel reflects her sugar morning glory the sunbeams stream through the parted cafe curtains over the sink and the hummingbird hovers before the feeder hung drip dripping its red sugar water faithfully cooked manufactured boiled bubbled toiled troubled like a meth lab in modesto hung right outside the window the evening before the evening turned to night turned to dawn turned to morning

again

once again

isn't it lovely isn't it so fucking lovely

the lord is my shepherd i shall not want

the smoky nutty aroma of coffee drifts up from the pop slow pop of the percolator posing inside the white corningware with the ultraretromeetgeorgejetsonjanehiswife thin blue lines meeting each other at solid points of angular intersection defining inside from outside this side from that side here from there the round black cord snaking around and into the wall plate above the splash of the formica countertop strips of bacon the spots the dots of grease still settled into its wrinkled dermis set onto neat rows on a folded paper towel on a plate patterned with poppies petunias pockets full of posies the spots the dots of grease still slightly sizzling laying down a bit of a tinkle tinkle shush of the morning marimba slightly above the

pop slow pop percolation

and the clink clink ting of silverware being unloaded from the dishwasher calgon clean madge takes her hand holds it in the green gelatinous ooze in the bowl says hey it's palmolive you're soaking in it the large frozen pork roast fresh from the freezer still in its saran wrap sitting comfortably in its swingtown hot tub a boiler filling slowly from the tap sharing the scene with a ziploc bag stiff with the last of last summer's creamed corn

funny isn't it

what we do for love how we build our perfect worlds

the mom the son the holy ghost such perfection it's pretty as a picture it's so so oh too much for words why not simply let the morning dove sing its song she and her musical brood will give us the mary poppins version of this tale just a spoonful of sugar let's the medicine go down the medicine go down i watch her show on the telly blonde and fanciful she dances around spins in her dress her gypsy jewels silver and precious swinging from her neck through the kitchen through the living room with her oreck vacuum cleaner vooming her maytag superdooper soak wash spin drying the least speck of dust the least fluff of cat dander

she sleeps upstairs in her monster bed that could hold a village of idiots perhaps it has perhaps it will again a bed so big she has room to build up her defenses blind her eyes from the horrors of the evening dreams plug her ears from the screams of the night

hush little baby don't say a word daddy's gonna buy you a mockingbird

if that mockingbird don't sing ah no sugar no sugar for the potion such a bitter taste this tincture of terrible loneliness she slips into the shadows of my sleep slides me sugar wraps herself in my arms tells me she loves me tells me she is home then flees with the rising sun her carriage turned to pumpkin every once in a while leaving behind a slipper a coat a bit of herself

a bit of herself always lingers behind

torturing me so

she whispers words of comfort tells me of wonderful days to come she is my high priestess telling the congregation of the second coming it's in the future it's out there in the future we just need to get around this just need to get through this one must suffer on earth to be rewarded in heaven she is my christ must i sacrifice her again

and again

i'm trapped in this dungeon of light the gate is open i could escape but couldn't survive on the outside i love her so

i heard you're cool you're mellow pick 'em up just to let 'em down it's a shame baby but i always know just the way you're gonna do oh no

just a psychotic girl and i won't get lost in your world

we fly to texas we goin' to mess with texas we goin' to mess with the fine balance of things that were and things that are sure to come

there is a festival there is music there is weirdness there is heat there is dust there are bats beneath the bridge that come out as the sun sets there are demons that arise from beneath the bed as the moon climbs into the sky

goddamn

i hear voices wafting in from the darkness from the light

i hate wearing clothes

yeah i pretty much go that way myself you know that naked way

the words drift in one ear out the other slip back in through my nostrils with the dust and heat and humidity as i breathe in breathe in breathe in i'm dozing daydreaming getting in a catnap between bands it's hot yeah it's hot out it's austin i'm autistic in austin it's texas it's hot it's humid it's sweltering i've been smoking bowls since ten in the morning waiting for yet another band some band it's written down on some schedule somewhere waiting waiting waiting for it to kick up the dude is saying over the loudspeaker he's saying

hey austin we're vampire weekend

i don't notice i barely notice i'm awakened i'm up i'm alert middle aged adrenalin driven perversion tunes into the word

naked

in these big open fields in the middle of austin some big ass park some kind of fair grounds where once upon a time perhaps they wrassled bulls roped calves shot mexicans belonging to santa ana's army big open fields like the fucking african savannah crocodiles snapping out of the pond grabbing hold of the leg of some young antelope a long legged giraffe maybe

oh so far from the hills are alive perfection of that lovely hill above the killing fields of international boulevard

i'm so on the edge of my own personal savannah watering hole that perfect storm of the midday sun a little heat wave intermittently broken by the breezes off the river some rock and roll coming at me from all around a few bowls of righteous jah puts me in that spot that spot i dig so much where i just want to run my hands all over her she look so good in that flowing texas hippie skirt that she keeps in the closet of her day-to-day life in that compartment that she calls me set off from that other compartment she calls not me that compartment she calls that which i must do but is not me that from which i must protect those i love

ah i just want to lift and separate she gives me that you gonna be doing that all day kind of look i return that don't you know it wink and a grin ain't no sin i lean over i say

baby i just wanna tell you right now i just wanna tell you that this very minute of the day this moment in time i just wanna tell you that the elements have swirled themselves all around about in out all the worlds of past present and and future have seeped into my soul into my libido i just wanna tell you that right this very second

i am your perfect fuck

you will never have a better fuck than you could have than you can have right this very instance

goddamn

the voices they say

i hate wearing clothes she says she this sweet young thing already wearing less than my aging eyeballs can bear witness wearing only a couple of items these items so sparse oh baby so sparse these who wears short shorts cut off jeans and a bandana top

goddamn

i'm turning into such a grade a specimen of a dirty old man my friend my part time most of the time girlfriend she says at breakfast she says what about that refined old southern gentleman kind of path i say that is a very hard path fraught with monsters and ghosts and demons and devils those old fools they always end up exploding us southern men we got it bad it's gotta come out somehow someway we try to keep it bottled up in a fine crystal decanter and it comes pouring out late at night in the beds of underage girls boys and street walkers of questionable sexual identity no girlfriend i say best to just let it out as it comes up keep a steady state

i'm turning into such a grade a specimen of a dirty old man i am the teacher's pet i bring her apples i clean the blackboard i dust the erasers after school i sit in the front row

i pay attention

she says the friend of my barely clad voice she says yeah i hate wearing clothes too her friend she says her friend all tall and long and looking like she could break me in half with those smooth-skinned walnut cracker thighs she says yeah i pretty much go that way myself you know that naked way

i'm sitting in my purple folding chair smuggled in from san francisco complete with twin cupholders and head rest i lean over whisper to girlfriend i tell her i wanna spot that cute young clone of hers that is here today that is girlfriend as she was when she lived here yesteryear before she found the need to build the fortress in her bed in her late night dreams to rationalize a world that claims her

girlfriend she winks she says

baby

she says my hand wandering across her thigh i so want to play moses part the waters don't you know i'm in that spot she says

baby

she tells me stories of love and debauchery in austin long ago many friday's ago tales of sundown tripping beneath the bridge going over the river sitting down amongst the bushes and dirt below the life of the city watching the bats flow out from under the bridge like a big shredded bolt of blue black cloth

i am jealous of that time i want to claim that time i want to plant my flag on the top of the hill of that time i want her every memory i want her every thought incorporated into the sheandme

ah lawdy friday night the party light you were actin' like everything was all right but later on with no one around had me fightin' for air layin' on the ground oh no

just a psychotic girl and i won't get lost in your world

we ride a magic carpet for four days floating through her world as it was as it is as it will never be again and the love and the love and the love swirls around and about and nourishes and strengthens

and the love giveth and the love taketh away

and the plane lands back home and we're all alone all alone

texas behind us coffee percolating pop slow pop slow pop bacon sizzling spotless oh so spotless ain't life oh so perfect and clean

psychotic girl lost in her world and all that

chugga chugga choo choo whistle blows wind blows do we know do we really know which way the wind blows land of milk and honey land of silk and money the captains of industry drive by on the highway they who are them they who are not us we are an indeed an us we are united in our beliefs we who are confident responsible proles those of us not tucked smugly into our hybrids that are allowed into the car pool lane the logic of which other than some marketing ploy on behalf of toyota honda assorted dinoelectroespressovehicularmolecular madness evades us true madness evades us because we will it that way we are the masters of our own private south carolina i mean why not we swallow welbutrin prozac zantac atavan by the handful by the jar full by the trunk full by the tank full by the chock full o'beans by the time i get to phoenix by the time i get to baghdad by the time i fuck the fag hag until our senses dull until our senses are numb to it all

little black eddie
sat on his dump pile
fingering nuclear rubble
maybe he'll fry
maybe he'll die
maybe he'll simmer and bubble

just another dead fucking raghead what the fuck do i care do we care i scream you scream we all scream for ice cream numb me sugar apply your lips to my brain stem to my body stem until i rupture love ejaculate the jism of caring of giving a shit goddamn make me dance inside my head until the noise just don't bother me please give me more i need it i want it i just don't know how to walk through the day without it

drop drop fizz fizz oh goddamn what a fucking relief it is gimme the needle of carefree living gimme the needle of sliding my fingers into the ethereal shit of the world momma earth her asshole so tight already alrighty mighty clouds of joy just one more just one more little pill will get me through the day through the week through the rest of this fucking hell

yeah well

take a look at yourself just take one big look at yourself the mirror it doesn't lie like i lie to myself just breathe i say to myself just breathe close my eyes just breathe

i mean don't you know i'd rather fly naked through the skies shoot at furry critters as they scurry across the tundra

goddamn ain't that a kick
goddamn ain't that a hoot
rock and roll
lock and load
aim click and shoot

bikram yoga is a sweaty cure jet li he can bend bullets tommy bahama he makes me feel so sure gonna pan fry me some mullet

san jose to san francisco

summertime commuter time blues from the upper deck the view seats where we look down on the rest of the passing world i am yertle the turtle ruler of all that i can see sitting back here in the rear seat the comfortable double that my man pete turned me onto the premier seat on the baby bullet i sit up high i might just be the odds are good that i am indeed the little ten minute walk from the office down the guadalupe river trail a very nice venue to browse the menu for a nice interlude for that post work pre commute inspirational getting right with jah and the universe i sit up high look out the window look up the aisle see everyone who comes who goes

she knows that i am looking at her

she understands that love and chance are very fickle and jealous gods we will submit yes eventually we all submit we pull into mountain view station there is a smattering of people in the car we pull into mountain view they

oh yes there is a they here just as there is a them

bikram yoga is a sweaty cure jet li he can bend bullets tommy bahama he makes me feel so sure gonna pan fry me some mullet

and the they's who are not them's pour onto the train this gaggle of geeks the twenty thirty something serf squad the googlers the applers the ciscoers the estimated prophets of the various valley cults each with their own baghwan each with their own jim jones they all willingly drink of the kool aid

fuck

am i am jealous

i want nothing to do with these guileless people i want to be a part of their club please let me in don't fence me in out in out let's hold hands do the secret handshake put my left foot in do the hokey pokey oh baby

don't tread on me

yeah give me a tee shirt inscribed with some secret sauce well worn witticisms wandering through the malls of commerce

i will proselytize

the message

that we all have deep down within us any way somewhere down there deep in the bowels of our festering pie pits we all have this basic desire to dance to twinkle our toes across the floor do the fred flinstone at the bowling alley

she knows that i am looking at her

all i'm asking is that she this beautiful baguette of sugar and spice and everything nice all i'm asking is that she allow me to tickle her twinkling toes

before she too stops giving a shit before she too heads off to the pharmacy the farm i see from way up here in my high chair c'mon sugar lemme grab your hair all i'm asking

before she heads back to her little enclave her protected enclave far from that simmering oasis distant from the shifting sands where human blow up dolls dressed like gee eye joe compete to star on i want to marry a millionaire wouldn't it be swell just plain swell if they were simply auditioning for a part in the sonny and cher chorus on this little choo choo's variety show

she knows that i am looking at her

i want to slide my experience beneath her innocent bambiesque stare whisper

don't go there

where they stand like they did the other day on the beach out on ocean beach the afternoon sun not setting but sinking like the hopes of god family country the furious foam of innocence crashing swelling up flipping turning inside out tumbling rocking rolling

oh goddess of the water
thank you for taking me
into your arms
rocking me gently
delivering back to safely back to shore

where they stand on the beach a small gaggle of them maybe fifteen maybe twenty maybe like a box of good n' plenty noisily being consumed in the row behind me some are in suits oddly out of place oddly occupying space some in smart casual wear some just blandly there a priest a pastor some reverend of some sort some preacher of the word of god almighty

jesus save me jesus come save us all

we submit we set down our prayer rug i kneel down before you fuck me up the ass i won't even look over my shoulder in that way she does in the hotel movies that cost just a little extra that make you push that extra button that nod of agreement that yes i am an adult and agree that i am fully aware that the material that i'm about to see the scenes i'm about to witness may be harmful to small children and farm animals don't try this at home

where they stand on the beach a small gaggle of them the priest preacher reverend on high in his full religious garb in his accoutrement of all that is holy his hair greying the collar white and stiff on black his pants legs rolled up his pasty white legs exposed the water laps at his ankles his toes dug into the moist sand darkened by the tide

are we not all darkened by the tide

where they stand on the beach a small gaggle of them the priest holds a bible open to the proper page a finger his finger pointing at what i just assume at what i believe yes we all believe we all have faith in what i believe are the appropriate words from jesus lord of hosts lord on high he that is wonderful and magnificent

and the googlers and the ebayers and the facebookers and the ciscoers and the gatherers of capital the explorers of information those smugly confident that the social networks of love lust commerce transaction television radio bill graham kay fog smith wesson and home shopping that these tightly knit loose associations will keep us together will keep us from flying apart they get on the train they ignore the pain don't they remember can they remember

we are all born old we die young

chugga chugga choo choo we're all monkeys in this zoo my my my am i all alone just me and my eye phone don't you know i may don't you know i must goddamn we're all fucking bozos on this bus

it's this guy versus that guy we're all responsible we're all gonna vote run the bastards out of town we're all so fucking liberal we're all so ready for change we're all so afraid of change joshua come blow your horn until the walls of jericho come tumbling down your momma is for obama your daddy is for mccain no matter what we all get wet no matter what it's gonna fucking rain

yeah we all get wet

where they stand on the beach a small gaggle of them a preacher priest reverend hoodoo guru witch doctor voodoo a small stout woman brown skinned except for the salty streaks left from the tears running down her cheeks she holds a flag a section of cloth representing these here united states of america a swath of red white blue representing all that is good all that is right all that is righteous a flag folded into a triangle according to the rules we must have rules roll the dice move the piece land on chance take a card go to jail go straight to jail do not pass go do not collect two hundred dollars do as i say not as i do pull the car over go cut me a switch grab her by the arm lead her in the chicken dance i got a contract fine print our father who art in heaven lead us not into temptation

lead us into facebook where i may where i might just make it through the night

a small stout woman wearing a dark full length coat over dark dress brownish legs exposed heels sinking into the sand she's holding a flag a small stout man brownish in his sunday suit sunday shoes clip on tie he holds her hand a young man an uncomfortable jarhead in some sort of green uniform patent leather shoes so so shiny glossy smooth except for the speckles of sand stuck assiduously randomly around and about

does he even know that somehow he signed up to become one of them did he do it willingly did he

holds up an urn of some mysterious make and origin probably supplied by jimbob's burger fries and mortuary package deal for the first four thousand that show up in the killing fields

every one we kill is one we don't have to pay

holds up an urn the good reverend his finger follows the good word in the good book the jarhead with his good looks the small stout woman wails words unintelligible inedible an eye eee dee of love and loss exploding gone boom in the afternoon moon don't she know

we're all born old we all die young

the man of god he says the good lord he has an explanation for everything the good lord he wouldn't let us die for nothing it's all part of his master plan jesus is the reason for the season jesus is the juice

nectar of the gods

goddamn great googly mooglies

the train goes from san jose to san francisco we are nattering nabobs of negativism we are tools of greed and lust we must be we just be brother can you spare a dime if you got the money honey i got the time let's dance yeah baby let's dance

the ashes float up and out of the urn mix with momma's moans drop drop fizz fizz the soapy suds lap at the good reverend's toes as he spoke solace his disciples walked about with loaves of bread and baskets of fish lox and bagels and a good sheep to schtupp while the captains of industry talk about flying their personal aircraft to the moon talk about how unfair it is these taxes on capital gains talk about shiffless peoples black ones at that brown ones and trashy white ones too might as well use 'em for cannon fodder let 'em run around baghdad with machine guns and hand grenades and nightvision goggles

the ashes float up and out of the urn mix with momma's moans the captains of industry can't pay their loans we still sucking on the a-rab's tits all i want is to sleep a bit

the train from san jose to san francisco fifteen times a day regular as your daily constitutional people coming people going same old same old somethin' somethin' yo' momma is for obama yo' daddy for mccain no matter who it still gonna rain

chugga chugga choo choo whistle blows and all that

aw lawdy lawdy don't you know can you imagine the paleness of her nakedness cast against the darkness of the room

her room

the suburban moonlight streetlight starlight cocktail a silky mojito of phosphorescence washes in through the pier one bamboo shades washes through under over her bathes her with a softness gone missing in the moment i hold grab take her breasts bountiful buckets of love and rockets squeeze knead push her away she looming large above me her hands palms flat on my chest her lips leaning in a lubed hand reaching behind beneath in that style she has oh that style she has she sends me yes she sends me i spin for her in the web she's spun for me sticky sticky that lubed hand stroking my cock transferring that smooth silkiness readying me readying herself

there is no music the beat goes on there is no tension the lines are taut there is no mystery momma done gone call the cops the robber's been caught

she done stole my soul all is lost

a buck a twist a handful of hair a grip learned in ancient sparta wrestling naked boys in lives past lives lost all is lost my hand on her throat

covering the scar left behind by jesus mary joseph

i say holding her down on the bed that is too large that allows her escape in the sleeping hours that affords her the chance to build the fortress round her dreams

keeping me out

i say holding her down on the bed she straining against the grip breath hard tongue over tooth on lip i whisper i beseech my hand on her throat i say just two words i say

tell me

that's all i want that's all i need i just need her to tell me

aw lawdy lawdy don't you know can you imagine the paleness of her nakedness cast against the darkness of the room

ghost fucking

aw lawdy lawdy don't you know don't you just know sometimes i'm watching my big old tee vee tune into the wayback channel some sixties seventies drama there's this woman you know her this woman of the world she has her apartment in the city she has her high fallutin' job in a highrise she's hip she's hep

she wears black at inappropriate times

because she's cool and she can get away with it you know audrey hepburn breakfast at tiffany's cool without the innocence she has her fancy job she has her liberal attitude her own personal je ne sais quoi that oftentimes leaves her unapproachable yet she has a lover

a married man

ah the story turns eyebrows lift murmurous rumors over coffee in the booth in the back in the corner yes she is in love with a married man who lives in the lovely hillside suburbs with his lovely wife and his lovely child he just needs a little bit more than the deck with the view of the city and the good schools

george washington cut down the cherry tree
abe lincoln got a hole in the head
good school good bike never scraped my knee
jay eff kay well he be dead

and the good schools and the driveway reserved for the weekend car and the trees and the grass that must be cut trimmed raked bagged and the parks with the overly safe play structures soft landing rounded corners the sandboxes with no needles the rules that keep out the bums

and the khaki oh baby all that khaki

one day i'm a movin' to alabama
gonna buy me a tractor and a lucky charm
one day i'll be grinnin' at the bank
gonna start me a big old khaki farm

he just needs a little bit more outside the regular don't you know the regular it just don't work for him any more did it ever really work seemed the thing to do at the time but wait but wait it's not like that he had the love yeah

he had the love he just never felt the rockets

they meet happenstance the ether just sort of brings them together a chance meeting on the street corner a small gust of wind blows the loose stack of papers from her arms he stoops to help she kneels all lady like it's the corporate seventies it's hose and heels it's fat tie fat knot and hair over the ears the wet head is dead they look up at the same time their eyes meet

love at first sight it's tee vee but don't you know it happens yes it happens

it's a mad passionate love affair he declares his love for her she declares her love for him

i say holding her down on the bed pinning her she struggling she straining against the grip breath hard tongue over tooth on lip i whisper i beseech my hand on her throat i say just two words i say

tell me

that's all i want that's all i need i just need her to tell me

aw lawdy lawdy don't you know can you imagine the paleness of her nakedness cast against the darkness of the room

ghost fucking

she says wrestling her arms free struggling out from under me she says twisting up along my side slithering she says

no

and strikes sinks her teeth into the skin she my viper she my asp my snake she strikes sinks her teeth into the muscle above the left nipple biting deep puncturing my heart breath deep i grab a handful of her hair pull her back i want her gone she's not going she's got hold of me like a fucking pit bull biting deep puncturing my heart

breath deep

there is no music the beat goes on there is no tension the lines are taut there is no mystery momma done gone call the cops the robber's been caught

she done stole my soul all is lost
 
it's a mad passionate love affair

they talk they laugh they play she pulls the thorns from his paw weaves love into her drawings he steps warily into her world he jumps wildly into her pond scrambles to the beach spins her so turns her inside out sometime she don't know up from down and that is so oh kay with her

they have lunch that is not lunch but is sustenance nonetheless that is lips and nibbles and giggles and he takes part time leave of his suburban haven every once in a while he dabbles and dips in his toe tests the water she invites him to swim in her bay she opens up a window on her life she lets him in

she lets him play in her sandbox
there may be needles no guarantee
there is no rhythm hell it's just tee vee

it's a mad passionate love affair he declares his love for her she declares her love for him they make lovers' plans for a future in a perfect world they would have already been together

breath deep

there is no music the beat goes on there is no tension the lines are taut there is no mystery momma done gone call the cops the robber's been caught

she done stole my soul all is lost

my hand to her throat i have to cut off the air to get her to convince her to beg her to remove her fangs from my heart it bleeds i bleed for her goddamn i bleed i give my blood nail me upside down on the cross of saint peter i shall deny you three times before the cock crows i cannot deny you i breathe you i am hazel motes i deny your existence you are the church of christ without christ i cannot deny you i walk your path broken glass and rocks in my shoes i breathe deeply your soul barbed wire tight round my chest

i blind myself with the acid of a lime

tell me

i beg i demand

that's all i want that's all i need i just need her to tell me

aw lawdy lawdy don't you know can you imagine the paleness of her nakedness cast against the darkness of the room

ghost fucking

she climbs atop me straddles me sets herself around me slides down upon me engulfs me in one swallow one gulp her cunt a velvety throat gripping giving i try to buck her off she leans forward her breasts bobbing befriending bouncing on my chin i buck she rides arches her back arm up like she's back in texas on the bull back in the texas she claims as her own the arm swings down

she slaps me hard

twice

on the cheek on my cheeks

it stings it burns
put da lime in da coconut
i love i learn
turns out i'm a loyal fucking mutt

who fuckin' woulda guessed

she rides me hard

it's a mad passionate love affair he declares his love for her she declares her love for him they make lovers' plans for a future in a perfect world they would have already been together

he goes home to his wife and kid in the lovely neighborhood with the tree lined streets with the noise ordinances with the lovely school it's only for a little while only a couple more years maybe five who knows

if it's wednesday it must be meatloaf

outasightoutamind

she spins lost at first scared frightened she goes to lunch with friends her close friends they sit around the table they eat fondue long toothpick shishkabobs various meats in hot bubbling oil bread in cheese strawberries in chocolate they tsk tsk they say they declare with some sort of collective knowing with some sort of village council wisdom

he's never leaving her

hands stretched across the table touching caressing her own clucking some sort of tribal chant warding off evil spirits a cult of confederate cunts gone undesired priestesses of urbane paradox

you know he's never leaving her

she is the monk crossing the mongol steppes one step at a time the first few feet of the trek fuck the journey seems so long goddamn it goes forever it goes and it just goes will it never end

a tunnel with no light would be so much easier the solid feel of the rock walls comforting even in the dark there's only forward and back the choice so simple either or one or the other

the open light of the steppes daunting like the food court at the mall so many too many fucking choices most of them horrible potentially threatening

you know he's never leaving her

she shrugs whatever seems sort of like having to take care of your slow little sister the one your parents left you with and you're afraid the elements are simply too harsh for her

we all have baggage we all have obligations

she loves him anyway love it's fucked up if he never leaves her if he never leaves her maybe never will come around sooner rather than later love it's funny that way

i blind myself with the acid of a lime

tell me

i beg i demand

that's all i want that's all i need i just need her to tell me

aw lawdy lawdy don't you know can you imagine the paleness of her nakedness cast against the darkness of the room

ghost fucking

she climbs atop me straddles me sets herself around me slides down upon me engulfs me in one swallow one gulp her cunt a velvety throat gripping giving i try to buck her off she leans forward her breasts bobbing befriending bouncing on my chin i buck she rides arches her back her arm up like she's back in texas on the bull the arm swings down

she slaps me hard

she leans over she sinks her teeth into the lobe of my ear she tells me she tastes my blood i bleed for her she whispers harshly she says to me

i fucking love you i'm always going to be with you

her friends cluck she smiles she looks out the window the bridge the cars they come they go the fog the lights the moon a cocktail of journeys returning leaving

she knows he's coming over tomorrow she can't wait

there is no music the beat goes on there is no tension the lines are taut there is no mystery momma done gone call the cops the robber's been caught

she done stole my soul all is lost love it's a fucked up thing love it's funny that way

ghost fucking and all that

joe fran standing in front of the absinthe beer in his hand the corner of bourbon and bienville joe fran he's still wearing his grey pinstripe suit from the conference his blue euro tie falling loosely about his hollywood throat the collar of his shirt unbuttoned the white crest of his tee shirt stifling the mysteries within

reach a hand to the crescent moon grab hold of the hollow

joe fran he says hey i have a joke you guys want to hear a joke jay star he's ignoring joe fran not on purpose simply with his own unfocused stumbling self awareness he's looking at me he says he stumbles back a couple of steps he stumbles left right and back to me the french quarter hokey pokey jay stark he says

hey man

he points to his lip he says hey man does it look like i have a cold sore on my lip jay star he's looking a little funny been a few weeks since i've seen him jay star he's looking a little funny can't quite put my finger on it his hair is a bit longer true his shirt unbuttoned the red blends in with the grey pubic hairs that crawl up his chest that threaten to strangle him swamp spiders swarming the throat that's it the grey the lack thereof

on his head nothing but red

he's dying his hair

i say i say dude

well you know i wasn't going to say anything i mean you know not like i was going to take you down behind the bushes on jackson square and give you a good in out bend you over a beignet cart give you that special sauce don't you know it's not really my business you and your cold sores just don't be putting those lips near a pussy i might come across

he says jay star he says dude

that's where married but sometimes free girl put her lips on mine got me in the lip lock just wouldn't let go goddamn that girl i don't got no virus that i know of

i say i say dude

that woman she put a spell on you she set you spinning she broke your heart now she got her lips locked on you again

he says jay star he says dude

the zan man he says running his hand over his smooth shaved head walking up in his finest south miami strut his florida by way of new york glow exploding like a gaslight on the streets of old you can hear the sizzling of moths entering the flame the zan man walking up joining us at the corner

the zan man he says yo jay star dude what's with the hair man

when you go weeks months without seeing someone i guess it's just the little things that pop right out at you jay star he turns to joe fran he says unconsciously running his hand fingers spread like a fleshy hair pick through his hair he's letting it go long he says

tell me a joke

joe fran he's forgotten the joke he's trying to talk to a couple of women ten fifteen years younger he does well he's got them giggling blushing one is playing with his tie sliding the knot slowly up and down

zan the man his hands in his pockets jangling his balls zan the man he says comments i bet she's shaved clean and smooth me i say yeah it doesn't matter she still wears the iron clad panties her baptist mom gave her jay star he says yeah but they're edible 

joe fran he looks a bit like frank sinatra maybe frank sinatra junior jay star he grabs him by the arm drunkenly pulls him over the girls the women they look at each other they look at joe fran stumbling backwards his eyes still locked on the tits and ass all wrapped up in new orleans evening ware jay star he says

tell me a joke

joe fran he watches the young ladies walking away he shakes his head he walks back up joins our little group we're on corner patrol outside the absinthe joe fran he says

so this guy he's walking in the woods with this kid it's late at night it's dark as death a low fog meanders through the trees an owl hoots from the darkness above a screech jumps out at them from behind the brush the kid he looks up at the guy the kid he says it's pretty weird out here in the woods i'm scared the guy he looks down at the kid he says yeah i know what you mean you think you're scared

i've gotta walk out of here alone

joe fran he stands there before us he smiles no he grins toothy and wide joe fran he his arms out slightly palms up a shrug

a moment of eerie silence

a snicker a cough a shuffle a laugh a guffaw soon we're rolling we're slapping each other on the back it doesn't take much we're in the french quarter

we each have to walk out of here alone

the faux gas lamps on bourbon street set the sky aflame the humidity oozed in from the waterfront seeped up from the swamp

just like back home

the sky aflame late in the evening a couple of old tires a couple of short stumpy pine logs a mess of fat lighter a couple shots of everclear the night is on fire

in the middle of the woods two or three dirt roads off the hahira highway  a clearing bordering the railroad tracks we drive up slowly easing the tires of my barracuda through and over the mud holes driven deep and wide through years of thunderstorms and four wheel drive monster trucks we creep up through the darkness of the woods driving with only our parking lights navigating by feel and knowledge of the woods enter the clearing all aflame three or four over by the fire a couple others meandering back from their car earl the pearl he of the legendary cock is shaking it off along the edge of the far side then shaking his leg hokey pokey style as he stuffs it back into his pants

i've been away haven't around much lately been away for the year the old gang is here the rain has been kind and gentle the fungal harvest bountiful i've been away most have remained behind there's a draw there's a haunting pull to the place family the lack thereof strong

we fall out of the car we me the tall wall cee kay we have a paper bag a crumpled brown bag doubled up we reach in we are the disciples of the lord we walk through the masses we reach in we hand out buttons here we hand out buttons there the basket of loaves never seems to empty we prepare ourselves for the sermon on the mount

blessed are ye who weep now for ye shall laugh blessed are the pure in heart for they shall see god

we gather round the fire though we are far from being pure either in flesh or spirit we fear not the forest but stand in awe before our fears our sins simmer in the song of midnight singe the sky with lapping flames the rhythm of the song the heavy bass pop popping of pine tar bubbling the tires hissing a sizzling swamp solo gaseous and guilty we move we sway the old bullfrog preaching the word the chorus of the cricket choir chiming amen brother amen sister

we laugh we laugh we laugh

we are in love with the world the south georgia clouds sit high against the crescent moon heat lightening flashes orange leaving lingering lashes of lust sky swirling we try to speak we endeavor to maintain conversation we are easily distracted thoughts interrupt thoughts the heat lightening oh my hey charlie kay hey big tall wall hey earl the pearl hey hey hey sweet little yvonne whom i never told the truth the truth of my love hey annie green hey sally tee hey weatherman red we move we sway we giggle we play

we waltz

a bow a curtsy hand to hand dust kicks up it's more a mosh pit of meager meandering than an ivory merchant period piece ex marks the spot sugar soothes the morning shakes we spin around the fire we seek the tribe of lost ancestors all of us mongrels

where is this place

deep in the woods within the swamps next to a railroad track coming from some dark nowhere leading on to another dark nowhere maybe they will meet up down the road we dance we slide

and when i'm sad i slide

back on bourbon street mister vee walks up with mister fitz and big bald bry who points at a young lass walking no actually skipping up the street bry points and says

ass to mouth

we look her way we look bry's way we look her way we look bry's way he shrugs he says hey she's a porn star jenna something she's famous for

ass to mouth

we check her out we let our imaginations loose a bit we wander in that mind's menagerie of personal debauchery we lusted in our hearts we lusted in our loins then we let her go

yet she increased her whoring remembering the days of her youth when she played the whore in the land of egypt and lusted after her paramours there whose members were like those of donkeys and whose issue was like that of horses

ah have your freedom jenna

jay star he looks at mister vee he says hey man want to hear a joke he doesn't wait for an answer he wraps his arm around mister vee ropes in fitz and bry he says grinning big and looking from side to side he says

so this guy he's walking in the woods with this kid it's late at night it's dark as death a low fog meanders through the trees an owl hoots from the darkness above a screech jumps out at them from behind the brush the kid he looks up at the guy the kid he says it's pretty weird out here in the woods i'm scared the guy he looks down at the kid he says yeah i know what you mean you think you're scared

i've gotta walk out of here alone

vee looks at me i shrug

an owl screeches from the sky a shadow sails silently across the ground the dancing stops suddenly we listen for god to speak

i could never understand the wind at all was like a ball of love when i'm sad i slide

the bullfrog's sermon drones on and on and on fading into nothingness like god himself fading into time it's about time it's about space about strange people in the strangest place fading into the darkness we all fade off into our own respective corners of the clearing weatherman red sings to himself off key but enthusiastic thirty eight special cover song

long time gone

annie greeneyes throws a pine cone his way it lands near the fire bounces big tall wall kicks it over the flames it disappears into the shadows he moans a long awwwww it disturbs the force we shiver with goose bumps bubbling up and down our legs

tickling my balls

my feet move shuffle lift and separate like festus in the bar marshal dillon drunk debauched six shooter dusting the bum's boots with little puffs of dust and cedar splinters i am a flame flying faggot in tites leaping across a burning piece of log strayed from the herd arms spread wide chest puffed plaid shirt tied about my waist wafting back like superman's cape i land gracefully my knee buckles ankle twists i eat the big brown breakfast roll roll roll my own come to a stop fourteen miles down the tracks

i sit up in the dirt picking pieces of the swamp from my knee wise blood

a crown of thorns

i wear barbed wire round my waist i put cut glass in my shoes i beat myself with a clothes hanger in the darkness of my room at night no god to hear my screams

then silence

no crickets no frogs no boogie man rustling in the bushes no snickers no letting of flatulence even the sizzling tires have hushed

i hear the love spinning in the whirlpool of life looking forward many many eons waiting for both feet darlin' i'm still waiting the water ain't that cold don't hold back ain't no fair keeping the secret wall safe forty left eighteen right second half left click click spin try again

both feet baby need both feet

oh my hey charlie kay hey big tall wall hey earl the pearl hey hey hey sweet little yvonne whom i never told the truth the truth of my love hey annie green hey sally tee hey weatherman red

hey hey it's lovely to see you it's been a while i know i been away only been a few months only two three hundred miles seems like forever seems like a galaxy far far away seems like i've returned from a foreign land after the wars i've been tainted i've gone through intimate alien anal probes it's just not something a guy talks about how does one tell friends family that it doesn't work any more that it never did work

really

just didn't know just didn't realize it wasn't working at all anyway

didn't know just didn't know til i went away til home left me

dancing in the darkness
beneath the wide open sky
home seems so small
don't know why
don't know why

the bullfrog preaches love thy neighbor does preacherman embrace the message in his core does he merely desperately wish pray beseech oh lord please don't let me be a victim of a vicious midnight gigging his last vision some bubba standing in the front of a flatbottom boat a q-beam in one hand a gig attached to a long grapestake in the other

a bearded neptune trident in hand it is mine to avenge

ehud then approached him while he was sitting alone in the upper room of his summer palace and said i have a message from god for you as the king rose from his seat ehud reached with his left hand drew the sword from his right thigh and plunged it into the king's belly even the handle sank in after the blade which came out his back ehud did not pull the sword out and the fat closed in over it then ehud went out to the porch he shut the doors of the upper room behind him and locked them

a gooseneck bud in the back pocket of his three sizes too big overhauls

bullfrog he says amen

god comes riding in on a freight train blasting through my head she's tied to the front on the cowcatcher splayed crucified

if i afixed
the cross
between your breasts
would your friends cry for
barabbus
as i crucify your heart

closer my god to thee splayed crucified a scar on her throat she breathes fire whispers

come free me

it takes me another thirty years to find my god my savior my salvation she's still just outside my reach

we wander

to our respective comfort zones at the edge of the clearing over near the tracks

the rumble the silence broken by the rumble we feel it in our feet up through our legs groins belly lungs head a whistle blows a light a tunnel of light blows through the edge followed quickly by the lead engine then car after car after car we move as close to the tracks to the train as we can we feel the dank breeze of its wake the smell strikes our stomachs strings of open cars stacked high with pine logs strings of empty box cars with the doors open on both sides a kinetoscope of

the other side

back on bourbon street we wander from bar to bar we are stuffed with frog legs from arnauds oysters and soft shell crab from the acme bread pudding from brennans tequila from the absinthe kind green bud from my suitcase thoughts of lust and potential debauchery from deep within

we stand as close to the train as we possibly can if we lean forward only an inch we'll be smacked back into the womb

we stand as close to the women on bourbon street as we possibly can if we lean forward only an inch we'll be smacked back into the womb

so this guy he's walking in the woods with this kid it's late at night it's dark as death a low fog meanders through the trees an owl hoots from the darkness above a screech jumps out at them from behind the brush the kid he looks up at the guy the kid he says it's pretty weird out here in the woods i'm scared the guy he looks down at the kid he says yeah i know what you mean you think you're scared

i've gotta walk out of here alone

deep in the dark woods of new orleans and all that

For each new morning with its light,
For rest and shelter of the night,
For health and food,
For love and friends,
For everything Thy goodness sends.
        --  Ralph Waldo Emerson


aw c'mon slip it slip it to me sugar you can slip it to me all night long slip it slow slip it smooth hit me with your couplets they be so old fashioned they be so paisley and patchouli just like the hippies before my time they be so

traditional

i've always been a sucker for a good prayer always loved a good prayer

goddamn

i like 'em heavy from way down deep pray the lord your soul to keep twist you all up make you ache make you shiver make you shake lay you down in a feverish wake grab a hold embrace the snake fall down wiggling on the floor speak in tongue like abraham's whore

i like 'em floating all about like butterflies and smiles i dig 'em spinning and twirling like an uncaring child running in and out and around jumping up and tumbling down rejoicing oh rejoicing in the free fall laughing giggling girlfriend tickling my balls

i dig a prayer for the dead we all die alone tis true all loners in our grave no one left to pursue makes no difference who understands yet being left behind it ain't so grand we all need someone to hold our hand

i dig a thanksgiving prayer coming right from the heart

i like 'em to take a moment to give pause think about them things that we just plain forget to think about

goddamn always did dig thanksgiving always did yes ma’am always liked the food always liked hanging with family friends some years i got drunk some years i just got stoned some years i played football some years i just watched football some years i did it all but

i don’t think i ever got laid on thanksgiving don’t you know i thought about it shit don’t you know i’m thinking about it right now

but all in all this don’t suck

says brother dee jay we’re sitting on the roof sitting outside enjoying the redneck veranda outside the kitchen window sitting beneath the wondrous rays of november san francisco sun sitting in kicking back in camping chairs complete with cupholders into one we have wedged the almost perfectly fitting ashtray round block round hole ready to provide comfort and joy to the phat one we’ve rolled prepped ready for indulgence on this glorious california afternoon we’re watching the waves roll in ships sailing away across the horizon sailing in through the golden gate all viewed from within between the wires chimneys satellite dishes and other rooftop accoutrement

urban redneck at its finest

i nod concurrence agreement acknowledgement little brother dee jay an understated man of complex thought and action in town to support his older brother during times of emotional distress helping to buffer the reality of the lonely transition to living alone to living on my own how old am i how old doesn’t matter i’ll always be older he’s the little brother me the elder the responsible one carrying the burden carrying the name

continuing the line

love has been fertile the raising of chirrun nearly done the love of family strong painful joyful and vague the tears they flow beneath the sunburned cheeks the dreams heavy in the morning fears of the children’s well being never quite dissipating little brother dee jay he wraps me in his big old man arms squeezes me up against his big old belly he tells me he loves me

he come all the way from louisiana with a banjo on his knee headed to alabama his own true love to see he gives me a hug on thanksgiving day comes all that way to be  sitting in a skinny tube of aluminum after all it's just me and him it's just him and me we're orphans in an orphaned world

death becomes us

we whisper a prayer of thanksgiving amen we whisper a prayer for death amen we whisper a prayer for life amen

god is great god is good god is hate god is food god is your cunt wrapped round my cock god got lost on her way to tend the flock

one day god abandoned the south
set it afire
then settled down
we kneel in her house
call her a liar
without uttering a sound

we whisper a prayer

for south carolina

fuck yeah

nineteen and ninety one i ate turkey in south carolina whole mess of food whole mess of family me my daddy my little brother aunts uncles cousins legitimate and illegitimate not my momma though my momma she be long gone my momma she just ain't making an appearance this year my momma she done been dead for a whole year

it's not her fault at all

but i got nobody else to blame

fuck man

lemme tell you death it fucks a fella up sends a son spinning gives a guy a glimpse of the gods tiptoe to the top can't look into the face of the lord scratch out my eyes fill my ears with ashes let my blood flow circle the drain lemme tell you about death ain't nothing change a child like death can't leave a child alone with death lemme tell you about death

thanksgiving in the woods look death in the eye hold my hand give a prayer for jesus take care of what's yours but give yourself to me

best let me in best give yourself over to me death ain't kind death ain't blind if you don't let me in then i might as well walk might as well walk away you don't give yourself over by then it ain't never going to happen

death i know lemme tell you i know

death it fucks a fella up you ain't all in by the time death rolls around you ain't reaching out for a hand taking the hand offered by the time death dances through the door might as walk away ain't never going to happen

i'm dead fucking serious i ain't sticking around to see you be alone

fuck it's nineteen and ninety one

south carolina

sitting just sitting

red clay driveway hard and slippery lined by moss-covered bricks sprinkled with crisp and rotting leaves oak elm maple leads up to a rectangular outline of two by fours partly sunk into the ground sparsely filled with dulled and dirty gravel runs right up to and underneath the three wooden steps that serve as stoop propped up alongside the doublewide trailer sitting atop a cinder block foundation

a trail of a red and yellow plastic big wheel trike red and white fearless flyer wagon a cracked and peeling rainbow hula hoop two mismatched roller skates

oh baby i got a brand new pair of roller skates you got a brand new key why don't we get together and try them out to see slide my cinnamon stick into your tea ain't the world such a lovely place to be

a trail of treasure junk and living not quite so well winds its way round to a couple of old tires leaning against the makeshift sears and roebuck shed bought out of the catalogue back in nineteen and seventy three

got a few spots of rust got a couple of screws missing and one of the sliding aluminum doors is bent inward like maybe someone kicked it hell fire maybe somebody did

my cousin mark he’s been known to have a temper fuck it’s in the blood

me my cousin mark we’re sitting outside in lawn chairs beneath the canopy of a fat old slash pine probably sliced for turpentine fifty years ago still wears the scars

hell sweet chile don’t we all

we caress chilled goose neck buds snuggled up in insulated beer titties colored petty blue sporting logos of the local package store over a cartoonish drawing of some frightful plymouth superbird rearing up on its rear tires like tony the fucking tiger its front grill all teeth and saliva

i don’t know why the baptist mullahs aren’t up in arms this blasphemous representation of my jesus mohammed abraham from the seventies iconic spiritual leader who wrought thunder on the blacktop where are the riots in the street king richard thou art lord

sitting outside in lawn chairs wearing sunglasses cool blue yellow november sun hanging in the mid afternoon sky all around us trees naked of their leaves leaning over scraggly creatures of the forest come to life babes in toyland there is no escape from this world the only way out is in a pine box eaten by worms and weevils flesh to bowels and bowels to shit and shit to dust sitting outside in lawn chairs a mild mid afternoon drunk drifting in settling in

my cousin mark he says tipping beer to lips his fleshy adams apple jumping up and down beneath his grizzly adams beard cocksucker has pubic hairs from dick to chin and back again

oh my yes

my cousin mark he is the perfect son built a house nearby so he can visit his momma every day cooks for her comes over and takes out the trash builds her birdhouses feeds her dogs washes her windows repairs her deck shit like that he goes fishing hunting sailing with his old man my uncle stan

mark lo he is the perfect son takes care of his momma she has no wants in her southern simplicity mark lo he is the perfect dad  takes care of his kids they have no needs in their living in the middle of god knows where redneckia south carolina lily of the field lord of the flies go tell it on the mountain world my cousin mark he’s a fucking rock of gibraltar he’s big he’s gregarious he’s a gentle giant good old boy who hates niggers and ay-rabs and wetbacks but never met a man he didn’t like don’t matter what color he is

he respects the jewish race damn good fighters don’t you know but he don’t know what to make of ‘em don't want 'em around these part and catholics are just good christians gone astray they’ll be all right eventually

my cousin mark he takes care of his family takes care of his sister she lives in atlanta he goes down to atlanta every now and then for a visit we sit and visit there beneath the tree he drinks a little more we drink a little more we toss the empties over on a pile beneath the bow of the trailer we talk story mark he talks a good story

he say

he stands wanders over to a slash pine he unzips he lets loose a stream strong with life and vigor he looks back over his shoulder he say

he makes a little trip down to see janie she lives down atlanta way with her two kids her husband he used to be in ronnie reagan’s air force fighting communism tearing down those walls mister gorbachev he checked out he clocked out got himself a job in the private sector working on jet planes

something to take us away

we all need to be leaving on a jet plane we all need the doubt of when we’ll be back again don’t you know baby best be giving all you got because i ain't gonna be happy with the crumbs of love

i got a cake to make

janie’s husband he got himself laid off lost his job got himself all worked up lost burn in the belly got himself all wound up twisted into knots of grief and angst and despair and bitterness and blame and don't you know a few drops of whiskey was all it would take he’d get upset he’d take it out on others ain’t nothing new about this same old story different place different face different day

my cousin mark he makes a little trip down to atlanta departs spartanburg early one morning before the sun comes up drives on down to atlanta takes the loop on around to college park east point only about ninety minutes maybe a little more my cousin mark he knocks on janie’s door there’s a bell a buzzer he ain't studdin' no buzzer he knocks fist to wood the screen door slap slap slaps back at his world mark he opens the screen door knocks on the hollow pseudowood outside door thud thud pound lets the screen slam shut it screaming whining as the taut corroded spring claims its proper shape and form paint chip dust puffs and huffs janie’s man appears he's looking like some grainy black and white television picture dark attitude covered by the screen's fine mesh

he’s surly he says to mark pausing just long enough to bring in a little early sunrise noire taking a drag on his cigarette a baby crying in the background the smell of burnt coffee floating alongside his morning whiskey breath he says

yeah what do you want

mark doesn’t say anything mark smiles that big toothy cheshire grin mark shrugs them big old man shoulders mark swings his big sledge hammer fist through the rusty screen cracks janie’s man in the chin cold cocks him as if he were death himself janie's man ronnie reagan's dude he don’t say nothing else he falls back cousin mark he don't say nothing else he opens the door reaches down grabs janie's man by the collar with one hand drags him out on the front stoop down the cement steps holds him down slaps him a couple of times with an open palm

the humiliation so much worse than the pain

mark leans in like a lover his lips next to janie’s man’s ear his fist full of starched sea island cotton his breath harsh breathing harsh lovin’ he says soft and slow and sharp as the razor he'd rather be sliding across this unshaven throat he says in a voice  steady and calm all emotion lost to yesterday’s dream he says

i ain’t afraid to fucking kill you

he says lemme tell you

i know death and death it'll sure fuck a fella up i ain't afraid to fucking kill you

he says

ain’t nothing in my heart ain't nothing around my soul ain't no jesus preventin’ me from putting my hands around your dumbass cracker throat and squeezing the life out of you

be like putting down a bad dog i done it before ain’t much to it

he says lemme tell you

you touch my sister again i'll fuck you up i am death it'll fuck a fella up

mark he looks over at me beer to his lips looks at me out of the corner of his eyes holds my stare holds the bottle still one gulp two he tosses the bottle onto the pile never stops looking at me

i nod he nods we know

hell

once many years ago long before mark and me got birthed into this world before we went from dark to light back to dark way back when back in another time another place his momma mark’s momma my daddy's sister mark's momma she got married young and south georgia wild

she was hot sauce on a cracker

she drove her men to despair she drove men to fight she drove men to think about death to think about life everlasting to think about thanksgiving

one man though he snagged her they got married with no money with little hope with nothing but love in the south coastal marshland they struggled they fought one night her man he came back from a tear came back late in the wee morning hours came home after ripping one up he came back staggering he had drunk all their money she got angry he got angry

he cracked mark’s momma upside the head

mark’s momma she told my daddy my daddy he paid a visit to mark’s momma’s man my daddy he took out a pistol my daddy he pointed that pistol at mark’s momma’s man my daddy he put that pistol right up to mark's momma's man's head my daddy he told the cocksucker he was going to shoot him he was going to shoot him in the leg shoot him in the foot shoot him in the stomach shoot him the liver shoot him in the head make him hurt make him dead mark’s momma’s man he cried he whimpered

my daddy he kicked the sorry bastard out the house my daddy he told him to leave

mark’s momma’s man he left they never saw him again

love it can fuck a fella up

goddamn

every night i dream the soldier say

burn that flag before you drape it over my coffin

sitting on that little patio out there on the outskirts of spartanburg out toward mayo south carolina me and mark kicking back mark just sitting there half reclining big old paw of a hand holding his beer resting on the arm of the chair little blonde girl maybe she’s five maybe she's six she comes running up jumps into his lap laughing giggling he gives her a hug tickles her he’s the jolliest motherfucker you might ever see long flowing black hair big beard some reincarnated early seventies stud all he needed was a leather vest never woulda known never could tell this big old lovable mug of sweet vanilla pudding had only a couple of weeks ago whispered heinous threats to a fellow human being

ain’t shit funny that way

mark he talks about love he talks about life he talks about giving his momma god bless her blind self talks about giving his momma a twenty two rifle for her birthday the year before says his momma my aunt virginia she liked to sit out on her back deck with her rifle locked and loaded couldn’t see a goddamn thing cataracts and diabetes and old age taking away her eyesight slowly and cruelly she liked to sit out on her back deck out on her back deck shooting at noises in the woods noises that crept up to the edge of her yard noises that haunted her at night

baby it's best to learn to how to love your ghosts you can't outrun them you can't hide

mark he say yeah always have to call before i head over to momma’s house never know if she’s sitting out with that rifle sure makes me all happy though to hear her laughing to hear them little twenty two snap crackle and pops an occasional tweet gone screech as a bullet accidentally finds a warm feathery target

goddamn it don't take much to make an old blind lady happy

he say

the kids they know to stay away from the back woods behind the trailer me i'm learning to stay away from the back woods too i'm learning to love my ghosts i'm looking for the happy it don't take much i'm listening for her laughs listening for those little snaps those crackles those pops

sounds of life sounds of death

lemme tell you death it can fuck a fella up lemme tell you it don't take much to make a fella happy such a fine line don't you know

she ain't killed much we're thankful for that

thanksgiving in the woods look death in the eye hold my hand give a prayer for jesus take care of what's yours but give yourself to me

south carolina and all that

matty she say standing over the sink those pale palmed hands blending right up and into those blue black arms both plunging down into plunging in and out of grey soapy water she say a heavy sigh heaving from her big bosomed chest a blessed bounty that swallows the leather cross hanging dangling from a throat soft deep lyrical she say shaking her head slowly back and forth matty she say

mistah mike they done gone kilt martin

me i sit at the formica kitchen table a month into my ninth year getting ready to head on out to missus coates’ fourth grade class at halifax elementary school i sit on my knees on the chair the humidity of the season already floating up off the morning dew creeping in through the screen door my hairless pre-pubescent legs wet with smelly young boy sweat sticking to the padded vinyl

springtime hormones driving my little dick to a regular stiffness that both frightens and fascinates

what in the world am i ever going to do with this thing

the sports pages and comics spread out before me propped up on the wooden napkin holder my morning altar the phantom in purple tights and hood black leather panties black leather boots black leather mask he in all his homoerotic glory sits upon the great throne of his ancestors well within the skull cave his lair his refuge within the womb of deepest darkest africa native tribesmen in loin cloth feathery headdress earrings and spear they serve mister walker lo the ghost who walks they serve him as they have served his ancestors as they will serve his heirs he our mister walker he loves diana he mourns her presence she with her high powered career she who travels the globe he’s but a lowly crime fighter out to save the world and protect this small lost tribe of cannibals black men ignorant but deserving to be left alone by

the exploitative dominant white paradigm

thank god for the ghost who walks thank god for the righteous white man to keep the world in balance

i sit at the kitchen table a month into my ninth year eating breakfast using an unadorned stainless steel fork to mash a couple of heavily peppered fried eggs thick chewy chunks of crumbled bacon shredded american cheese food into my grits scooping shoveling hunks into my mouth thick yolky embryonic trails oozing down my chin leaving behind a dried yellow brick road of tales to be told tales to unfold

martin yeah they killed him that’s what the voice on the tee vee said last night

one and only youngest son the big aitch we’re driving to school in the morning big aitch sixteen sporting the scraggly whiskers and buff bod of a he-man hipster white boy bee baller

poetry and the round orange ball in the city

big aitch we’re driving to school baby boy is in high school we’re talking we’re talking final four we’re talking books i’m slinging my pseudo-intellectual morning daddy bullshit i’m saying he’ll dig the walker percy book i just gave him i’m saying yeah young dude he’s a kind of kurt vonnegut channeling catfish hushpuppies cole slaw jesus love and sugar shack insanity

we have gaps of silence father son the holy ghost

we got kay pea eff ay talking to us in high fidelity stereo ninety four point one on our eff em dial the pacifica radio dudes in all their amy goodman dressed in flowing garbs of radical social attitude they spread the gospel of martin on this day on this fortieth anniversary of the evening where a bullet burst through his skull spattering blood bile and brains on the balcony spattering shit spitting phlegm on history big aitch he says

how old were you when martin luther king died

how old is love

how is it when we talk about him it’s always all three names it’s always martin luther king

how old is love how much do i love this boy

i wonder i envy him his life he is so young and wise beautiful and rough streetwise and innocent perfect in his imperfections i say turning to take him all in as we glide through the early morning fog settling in and among the redwood cedar and eucalyptus jungle comprising the outer edges of golden gate park the windmill peeking up above the canopy to the left the viciousness of the pacific breaking with anger passion and foam to our right we ride the middle goddamn i could eat him up i love him so i say

nine

i was nine that april of nineteen sixty eight just turned nine and i gotta be honest i just gotta tell you the truth kind of hard to admit to the boy i want to be superman for him my baby boy i want to say i was the super liberal white man leading the crusade for civil rights signing up voters fighting against the klan fighting against the man

shit

truth be known his old man was nothing but a dumb cracker kid in missus coates fourth grade class i didn’t even know who the fuck martin luther king was

fuck

in halifax virginia piss ant little town down southside eight hundred people within the incorporated city limits missus coates a gnarly hulking country woman sparing no rod lending no patience wielding a yardstick like she was joan of fucking arc nearly every one of us been smacked with that stick at least once whacked quick and sharp

didn’t even know who the fuck martin luther king was fuck it

missus coates she never told us anything about martin luther king she taught us reading writing ‘rithmetic she taught us virginia history with a righteous reverence seven presidents hailed from virginia sir walter raleigh’s lost colony prospered then mysteriously perished along with little virginia dare then came jamestown founded in sixteen oh seven hard valiant times turkey tobacco and tomahawks teasing the nape of john smith her own ancestors those of missus coates her ancestors brutes and indentured servants like my own

in and out of the stocks

sixteen twenty two a red letter year they brought over the first slaves after that the world just got right

we didn’t have no black folks in our school none to speak of they had their own school inez williams she showed up in the middle of the fourth grade one day there she was like someone had brought her in for show and tell standing there in front of the class braces sparkly sixties framed glasses black braided pigtails and black shiny mary janes buckled around lacey white ankle socks

jefferey oaks he sat the across from me the next row over he whispers out the side of his mouth the side sliding my way he says she’s a goddamn nigger giggles snickers scatter settle about the class like sugar sprinkled on the winter morning’s cream of wheat

it’s all funny

matty she says mistah mike they done gone kilt martin inez she wasn’t at school that day the sports page it don’t say nothing bout martin luther king the comics page it don’t say nothing bout martin luther king

the television last night the night before it didn’t want to say nothing about martin it didn’t want to but when i was watching

bewitched

i did dig that show i did i did dig samantha she made darrin have a dream she was so sexy that way casting her spells with a wiggle of that pert little nose lo many the night many the shower with warm soapy hands all over my pre-pubescence all over my excitement she came to me she wiggled her nose she helped me through my times samantha she spun silhouettes in darrin’s heart he got greedy the world discovered sammie’s secret the army came and captured them they were in a jeep headed someplace where darrin he didn’t want to go then they went away the show

bewitched

it just went away poof that all too seemingly familiar voice it came through with breathless clarity that we interrupt this program with a special news bulletin

mistah mike they done kilt martin

me my momma my daddy my little brother poster children for the nuclear family my daddy scraping by me my brother we had no clue we was just little crackers with dirty bare feet and hee haw haircuts we all sat in the den in the back of the house sat around the television my momma and daddy on the couch me and my brother on the floor in front of the tee vee

those innocent nights when pajamas were still oh kay

i looked back at my momma who was looking at my daddy who was looking at my momma who was shaking her head my daddy he said well i guess it was gonna happen

my momma i saw my momma whisper a little prayer

and bewitched samantha stevens she split the scene amidst the scene never saw that episode again i always wondered i just never knew whatever happened never really watched the show after that she my faithful samantha she just up and left me abandoned me on that fateful night

martin who

stole away my woman with the wiggling nose

goddamn him and his kind inez she didn’t come to school that day missus coates she didn’t really mention nothing about martin nobody at school the next day said nothing about martin way down in southside virginia where we had our black folks under control where we had our boys and dey’s people safely tucked away on the other side of the tracks scattered along the dirt roads down around the edges of town down by the river below the dam

sixteen twenty two a red letter year they brought over the first slaves after that the world just got right

we aimed to keep it right

mistah mike they done kilt martin

and i couldn’t do anything about it we’re driving down the road me and one and only youngest son he says he asks how old were you when martin died i say buddy-roo i was nine i didn’t even know martin didn’t even know we had

issues

and by the time i figured it out by the time it became clear by the time i really understood i just knew there was nothing i could do about it there was just nothing to be done

i just waited i just bided my time twirled my fingers learned to suck on a busch beer studied the gate the walls around me smoked a little kind green bud tapped my fingers and when the door was sprung i was gone

abandoned