- Home > Archive: May, 2018
that the night would never end.
In the moonlight,
in the irises
with Pachanga Maria
and St. Michael.
Who defended us in battle
from those who seek the ruin of souls.
Protected us against
the wickedness and snares
of the Father of Lies.
The dragon prevailed not
and was asked to leave.
Our prayers were answered,
the night is still alive.
A rustling in the nasturtium,
hoping to make a run to the wood pile.
Tommy could smell him from the porch,
lunging into the air like a high jumper.
Over and over and over again.
“He’s killed three of them so far,
his breed is bred to hunt rats, you know.”
“They aren’t rats.” said Meta Jane.
“It’s not right, they’re no match for him.”
“He’s earning his keep, saving the garden.”
She stopped talking,
not wanting to dignify that last comment.
Fidgeted and ran her fingers
gently across her forehead.
She really needed that ASMR video
almost craved it.
Was that supposed to be a joke?
Here’s the thing,
That means wild.
I will not conform to your
contrarian, bourgeois, Marxist,
modernist, existentialist, rhymer,
I have my own algorithm.
It’s not binary.
It’s wild. I’m feral.
Ha ha ha ha ha.
Could I trouble you
for something to eat?
My girl is so fine,
If she were a mathematical equation,
She would solve
the mystery of the universe.
She is so sweet,
If she was a cupcake,
she’d be the one
that made your teeth hurt.
And she’s so tough,
If she was a tigress,
She’d rip your face off.
Yup, I’m lucky.
Scared shitless, but lucky.
There was a rumbling in the attic,
like something was running up there.
The insects are dying in droves.
It’s not an accident,
money and science
have produced a precise
kill of the fauna.
you can kill all the insects.
They are responsible
Which is how we eat.
Hurry and finish the drones.
They shared custody of the dog.
Who had always been dangerous.
First day Jack brought him home,
from a prison like pound in Carson,
Gave him a bath and
afterwards, as they were drying him off,
and bit Jack pretty severely.
Now, three years later
and a hundred crises smarter,
Tom Waits (that’s the name he had at the pound)
has to come home early
because he fucking bit Meta Jane.
“He’s in the dog house” she said.
“Why?” asked Jakck.
“He bit me.”
“Ah!” said Jack.
Here he was trying to win her back and…
Boom! The ex-convict blows it.
Ninja star to the solar plexus.
A pool of shoe fish
swimming around the closet floor.
No one is in control,
it’s absolute anarchy.
The Levy sneakers were a gift.
Jack wore them once
to his uncle’s retirement party.
Felt like he was cheating
on his Chuck Taylors.
He retired them after that.
he picked thirteen fleas
off of the insect.
cute in the extreme,
lunging at the cats,
like they were missiles.
Street lights lit up everything
that the moon missed.
One thing the moon didn’t miss was Yvonne.
My sweetest one.
She cooks a mad file gumbo.
With the sassafras sass
that she got.
She’s divinely inspired.
No question, there is a God
when you see her.
“The ugly part is gone,
now I just have the fun part.”
Yvonne said, about nothing in particular.
“As sure as eggs is eggs.”
“Edgar Cayce said
there is so much good in the worst of us
and so much bad in the best of us.”
“That what? We’re all serial killers?”
“Why would you say that?”
“It just sounds so ominous. Like an ominous riddle.”
“You could also say…
…there’s so much liverwurst in the best of us.”
“Ha!…now I’m hungry.”
Ruth rolled her eyes.
“I get paid on Thursday. There’s still some bread, have it with butter.”
“No, you have it for breakfast.”
“I think I’m depressed.” Jack said.
“We’re all depressed,” said Ruth, “Man up.”
“Which tie should I wear?”
“The one with the sperm design.”
“Ha ha. It’s Art Deco.”
“It is. It’s vintage, this tie was
actually worn in the nineteen forties.”
“It was not, silk doesn’t last that long.”
“It’s not silk. It’s Belgian polyester.”
“That’s not a real thing, you’re such a liar.”
“From Belgium, post war polyester.
They make outfits for sex dolls out of it now.”
“They do not. Art Deco?”
“Are you sure you don’t mean Art Dildo?”