We Carry Hatchets In This Family

fiery fiery fiery them flames was burnin' burnin' bright and he felt hisself inhabited by the sprits, the smokey folk hell and even the old man of the mountain hisself had crawled outta time and hidin' places to see what he could do and boy was he doin' and doin' goddamn. he was tables turned and slates cleaned and nay were this simple hodie est tabula rasa bullshit if were a so simplement simply for doin' and done 'cause naw this were somethin' and a else do you even understand? this were't a slidin' through to a other side that not nothern's a been to but just that that othern's had been, had returned, and even done so with tells amongst a belt they's own. this was a somethin' separate, apart, disparate, and any other latin root you could think for this was and this is all to say this was not a unique experience no no, but rather a communing of the dirty saints of the black arts of sorts who knew that there was, had been, and always will be a secret side to all everythin' known or otherwise so there he was with no less'n john a leiden a sneakin' over shoulder and arms a wrapped round guidin' to the less traveled.

and he faced it down like one who knowed what he was doin' for, temptin' satan and all his fallen angels darin' 'em on callin' out and loud,
-here i am you dirty sons a bitches and here i stand and here riskin' all damnation as sure as i's known from the earliest of days to stare you down. to call you out. demandin' you show yourselves whether it unleash all wrath or no here i stand and stand do i ever.

and the devil answered him with a laugh dark as any had ever heard nor will likely hear again,
-skinny whoreson, a gale force full from that which she blows, thar look at ye skinny whoreson of babylon look at ye don't ye know nuthin' good fer nuthin' haven't ye heard across the sea son across the sea. may you survive til i pull the trigger. church on sunday and alls in the hole un-whole and not a chance in hell. but hell if i didn'a so did i, did i ever to the fullest and the full.

he thought on and unto hisself,
-that scoundrel of scoundreldom and all unholy sacrilege left with skin like rubbermeat in the gale force full holdin' us all together like the hands of jesus in a sunday school paintin' like when we was learnin' the good book amen jumpin' the wall into hornets' nest graveyard turn the corner playground ditch canal glory glory hallelujah but sneakin in to the otherns' when i got the chances excitement in the last of places goin to hell for it i'm almost nearly sure which considrin' the let down not quites cardboard brick junk store atmospheric considrin' what? i don't regret. no lightning strike down heart attack car crash explosion rapturotic release maybe wrongs alongs i get by. wake up the next day maybe wrathful vengeful safe escaped by a hair when thank fuck i gots one more to face.

and he came back across and how he did it and hard but came back harder with axe and all fire flamin' word of the lord or word of someone or somethin' with little more than no words a'tal screamin' skull splittin',
-back to hell with ye and all yours what are some.

and with that he commenced to slingin' round hatchet fallin' hard and fast upon him what had fallen deep and into his soul and his very own.

and as he stood over starin' down at a handiwork work a hands he caught the last of dyin' breaths,
-skinny face skinny whoreson. skinny whoreson of babylon. look at ye, don't ye know nuthin' good fer nuthin' haven't ye heard across the sea son, haven't ye heard across the sea.

his first was a thought back to that sea and the very same that had left him here in the first of places but starin' down into the face a satan hisself he stated for histry books and all what like 'em,
-now the satan is dead. me and my babies are safe.

he turned away with a hatchet drop walk away never to return. leavin' weeds to grow up and over all and everythin' he had done. all up and over he had ever known.

And Mr. Jones Was Screaming Along With The Tea Kettle

one was trying to pick up the girls. one was offering work. one was trying to out-accent. one was talking tales of chile. one was with new employment. one was on the radio. one was taking photographs. one was apologizing for jobs never happened. one was sharing ideas about art. one was serving drinks. one was smoking cigarettes. one was mugged. one was assisting the director. one was looking familiar. one was looking particularly good. one was telling jewish jokes in the late night diner. and i think one was flirting... but i can't really be sure.

and one was missing.

Fall's A Comin' / And So's The Autumn

he hit the ground runnin'. and runnin' and runnin' and runnin' 'cause after the leap he had taken there weren't nothin' else to do but and so he did. a leap all leg kick and arms all a flail fallin' and fallin' faster aproachin' a ground he was dead set on meetin' and he coulda sworn dead. but with a stop catch look quick he was there. ground. a look up. and before he coulda even known the last moments he was already legs a flyin' runnin' faster and faster across the vast nothin'ness a'fore. sand dusty flyin' him kickin' it up and flyin' fast on the two feet god gave 'em headin' towards what would most likely be another edge a cliff beggin' out for a leap over for nothin' but another fall.

it all started when he had left the homestead flyin' less fast than his current incarnation but flyin' some the same. leavin' behind him a burnt and broken land ravaged by time and all hands of man none very diff'ernt his own. born on a cold summer evenin' in the middle of which they was the first snowfall ever seen to eyes a them parts since old man lacey had been but no more 'n a sprout - and they ain't called him old man lacey for nothin'. so it only stood to reasonin' that our boy would be somethin' more than just some other a thing growin' old in those parts. so he left carryin' nothin' but a plug a tobacco, two pints a whiskey, and with a last minute thinkin' on after, the shirt on his back.

he slowed his runnin' just enough to catch sight or maybe perhaps only glimpse of what the olduns used to travel far to see. a some of a thing risin' up and out of the landscape meant to remind of the salvation of all mankind that most had long since forgot and found they didn't need in the first damn place. he sped back to speedin' but still thinkin' on a childhood all his own sanctified and hymn filled.

come home, come home,
you who are weary, come home
earnestly, tenderly, yes he is calling
calling, o sinner, come home.

he kept to runnin' knowin' that home weren't nothin' but a place to which he weren't never gonna make.

Everytime The Phone Rings It Sounds Like Thunder

come on now sleepy boy and shake to awake for you've gotten work to be done 'cause you've a place and a person for to be goin' to see.

come on now lazy bones and scratch your head right outta scratchin' for you've got more beneath than even you seem to let on.

come on now wastrel sinner and get to runnin' for happinesses not so very far out of graspin' reach.

You Will Overcome Difficult Times

there are a million others in this world that could be for both of us. but we met. on a warm summer night on a rooftop in this very city and the same. green dress and funny hair. relaxin' into one another like already lovers. and continuin' to be despite all evidences to the ord'nary.

further and further and into the furthest.

So Here's The Deal

number 1) i'm gonna be reading some of these stories / prose poems / stream-of-consciousness mini-essays on humanity as it loosely relates to my own life (very loosely - you think all this is true?) and as preparation i'm interested in how these are perceived by the people who've read them - at least all the people that aren't me. so i wanna hear any thoughts, criticisms, ideas you might have or have had as a result of these posts. which brings me to...

number 2) if you have ever read this or are reading this now, please leave at the very least a short comment, a name, a dirty word, just something to quell my curiosity over just who the hell has been digging though my drawers and just how many drawer diggers you might be.

now i said "deal" so i'll uphold my end by continuing to write. maybe even more frequently. maybe not. think you're getting the short end of the stick? tant pis - start paying me for it. i accept cash, antique musical instruments, and beer.

love love love
-m

A Razin' And A Reivin'

i had stepped outside for closin' down of a one and on to an othern when i stepped into familiar faces an after a handin' across a friendship an good relations she stepped to close,
-do you have a light?
an i new from half a instant what i knew yet unknown yet even after her short steps away with bike helmet unlock leg over and a takin' off with cigarette fire glow she was hangin' on and after short pointin' and a good evenin' to all and present hers was a face stayed with me.

and for half a walk home and sidewalk stare followin' synapse circuits into the dustiest corners i tried to remember from where and just where i mighta coulda known from where and maybe even how and of course all these things in front of a backdrop of thinkin' i had been doin' on lost loves and those not quite and pieces left in the hands of otherns we'll never know again i started to thinkin' on a good deal many other things and indeed.

you see i had spent most of the day full a thought but a aimless wandrin' sort after learnin' upon that which had somehow snuck by me in the innocence of what coulda been called youth in those days when it was still of a sort. a sort of life that i know and very well indeed that had yet to come at me like the force it would in my more recent of years. a life of love and vaguenesses and all misunderstandins and romance and choices from it all needin' to be made at the most inopportune of times - 'cause that's when they always seem to be, and don't we all know, needin' to be made. a life i usedta thought that i knew and quite well but that had surprised me in recent hours due to its humanity and frailty and all else that we all must face but so often and quite usually never get to know. i had been tryin' to formulate thoughts and beliefs about situations such as thus when it was that she came up to me,
-do you have a light?

and she asked all a curly haired and nose pierced a straight line into the unconscious that comes when you're already halfway there ignitin' all thoughts all aflame. and even then i knew that my knowin' most likely came from a stage seein' and that i should keep to quiet but there was somethin' personal in the way she inadvertently worked her way into my thinkin'. nothin' that was a thing between me and her but the somethin' that was a between me and her the very essence of a thing i had been thinkin' on all since the most of the day.

and really it was the not knowin' that got to me and into the insides that i couldn't quite correlate with conscious knowin' that led me to thinkin' that this was a chance encounter better left not to chacnce but to figurin' but she had already sped bicycle peddled into the night leavin' me with the uncertainty that carried me for a good several blocks.

and it wasn't until i had nearly caught to evenin' friends that i recognized remembered and knew that i had sat on the arm of her couch playin' party games and formin' a disallowed crush on her and the very same. an evenin' i had meant and even yes tried and attempted to enjoy myself with the company of otherns in what could be called an attempt at normalcy. a time when i was in the midst of not carin' about in the most intimate of ways though pretendin' to because i was meant to as decided by all and everyone outside myself. a time when i was recoverin' from heartache and the pain that seems to come all too often and yet not often enough in my shortest of lives. i had yes i knew seen her astage in what had been a finest moment of sorts for one i had never given too many fine moments myself. i had seen her talk an act of love and love lost and love failed. i had spoken to her over patriotic pastimes on front lawns avoidin' what i knew to be a very soon painful period in the life of another or maybe not so very much but if in fact a yes very much so a very much so due to my own and a very much myself.

and all this because i was near approached and asked,
-do you have a light?
all this that turned me to thinkin' on a life so intertwined with my own, that self same one i've known so well and so little that had furiously furrow-browed into thinkin' on my own. of loves lost. of loves betrayed. of loves let go.

and of loves lately hoped.

by the time i had made it to the insides of what i'm even just now startin' to call a home i realized that there are sometimes necessary steps for takin'. lettin' go and lettin' live are what we sometimes and must be forced to doin'. forgivin', and this is most important, ourselves when even we don't know the why and what for.

movin' on is movin' on in all its myriad of ways. and movin' on is movin' on in the ways to which we cain't so no. a lettin' go that frees up toward and most wholly to that worth embracin'.