Some Where
Quietly arriving on a Sunday afternoon King Flackseed interrupts the party and steals all the food he can carry in his napkin. He also stole the napkin but perhaps from some where else. Some where inside his own layman's jacket. Some where that good 'ole King Kong couldn't even climb to. Some where in this great big world. Now the sky is terrified. An invasion has begun, and sooner than ever before. Look out your window, there on the doorstep. Do you see what comes? Your eyes begin to bend, then your toes, and your pillow has even found itself stained from your nonsensical tricklings. Get out and get out now. There is some where safe and you must believe it.
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Can you please turn out the light?
I sat on the seat
The one directly next to the door
Beside the complex infinity
Over by the window
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You are considerate as the presenter. We are just highball freakshow artists. Our line continues well past the downtown park area, running alongside the Museum of Pests and currently ending by the river. No one knows we are here but we can't understand that. All we can understand is that it may be possible to bring our hogs to the front of the line. We have extra strong chains to keep them in place while we wait. And here, in my bag, I have a book on how to get an extra extra strength chain which, I'll tell you, is much better. Why? Well, because that guy ahead of me said so. There is also some food which I may or may not need and a watch so I know how long I've been waiting in this line.
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There's a man sitting in my restaurant. He is probably Scottish or at least a Flutist. No matter. He reads the newspaper and drinks a double shot espresso martini. Envelopes swim around his head, Gene Clark dances in the distance. "Too much bass," he says, while ripping out sections of the paper. "I've got no control," I say. He looks dumbfoundedly at me, possibly thinking of vegetable factories or a quarterback blitz. I wonder if I'm in love. He says "Is something wrong with the bass?" and tears out another piece of paper, then another, and yes, another. Meanwhile, a 32 year-old germ kid walks in and announces the signing of the Constitution. "It's a nice day," I say. "I've got no control," he says. "Nevertheless," I say. "Get out of my restaurant," he says.
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Poor small Medusa – o mine – o yours – how does the light of day rest upon your lids? Can you feel it's warmth or are you elsewhere, smiling in a pool of wealth and hand-carved dreams. Visions pass in a sequence unknown to you. The whistling grins of angels, inching by within a gaggle of harps. Followed closely by King Jenkins and his ever-aging, star-stamped palms, always just out of his reach. He is the completion of a parade, bound by humour and the ages of stories incomplete.
Where are you now? May I hold this dance and have you near? We'll take the fork in the road and divide it many times over. I've imagined hills shaped by lonely trees, probably left behind long before. There is light, somewhere, for dancing. And endlessness. There is also a place of darkness, for it is there where the most beautiful colors await.
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It's getting ugly out there. The familiar is necessary. Anything else is obscene. We tripped and fell many times, for it is quite absurd to ever reach your destination. It is too far away. It may not exist. Would we even recognize it upon arrival? Perhaps we passed it sometime, waiting on the side of Route 80, lurking around in the leaves. We, of course, were distracted, tossing and weaving about amidst a muddle of carpet change and toasty memories. You were crying and saved every tear.
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Dear Cincy,
Great to see you the other day. My memory vanished after pizza and a beer, but that's the way things go I guess. Were you really sleeping when I asked you about our trip out west? I just wanted to lend a hand, that's all. Can't you understand? I'm off for a quick mix-up with the gang. See you there?
yours, the pill-bearer
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Walked up to Joe's, grabbed a pack of coffee germs and fed the news. Feelin' good now, so Brother Jake and I take a walk to the hardware store. Somebody passes us and sneezes rapidly, three times in succession. "I haven't got the nerve for people like that right now," I say. "My ankles have been acting up, spitting out fake paper chops and waiting for trickery. It ain't no heaven." When we arrive at the store my daughter of the senses backs me into a corner with a few nickels. Now THIS I could get use to. 5 minutes pass. I look around. There's a holiday party going on, complete with sailboats and jack-o-lanterns. Fasza Sheapo is there and begins to black out. A few of us try to help her get to the couch but it's no use. Pretty soon the whole place is up in arms. So much for hydration, there isn't a water fountain in sight. We leave, looking for the next whiskey town. Our sights have been shortened and we no longer believe in the way our worlds have collided. "See you past the end of your street," I say. "That sounds good," he says. We have a brief, meaningless embrace before the long winter moons march in above us.
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Yr Friendly Mailman
Git ready Mr. Hand-Me-Down. I'm sick of your stuff – Yer lazy, no-good, tambourine slamming, blasting through the silent workshops, keepin' me from enjoying my heavenly dirge. I know you are up there. Just give me a sign, let me know. The truth, that's what I'm after. I seek it in my sleep, in the shower, and during the 4th of July parade. Please tell me you've been practicing for years, intent on jazz intricacies, but with a rock 'n' roll attitude. Please tell me I ain't gonna quit. I can feel it down in my deepest soul....some kind of fire. It needs to get out or at least cry itself back to bed. Don't you have a wife 'n kids to tend to? Don't they have needs too? Maybe you should be off with them, or at least makin' 'em. They gotta go to the shoe shop. Little Sally's in sore need of boots. Her socks are all water-logged. It rains every day here, you know that! But still ya let her run around with giant, gaping holes in her shoes. She certainly doesn't care. Look at her go! Spinning on her cycle, cuttin' up teeth with little Jilly. They are great friends. She is a lucky one. Jilly will teach her the ways of the world, the ways of a gentle human-being. See that light in her eyes? That ain't normal, it's special. Let her be and she'll certainly BE. But my dear man, get her some boots or it's gonna catch up to her. She'll start to notice alright. She'll be growin' fins on her toes. She'll think she's made for the ocean and off she'll be, spoutin' about with the dolphins. And boy, she'll have fun. She will have a wonderful life. But you, no...you'll miss her. Who's fault will that be? Mine? Hers? Nope! Yers, my friendly cat-killer, YERS! Uhhh....well....ya know.... I'm sorry, I really shouldn't say these things. It'll damage your pride…your integrity. I ain't out to git ya, I'm here to help. Oh sure, you'll likely be slamming the door on me in a quick, hot, half-minute. But for now I've got you sucked in. Yer listenin' well and good, rubbin' your scruffled face, blinkin'....blinkin' real fast. Seriously though, sir, can you help me? Somethin' is burning down here, right here where my finger's a-pointin.' It's gotta get out. I saw the doctor, he can't help. He says I'm healthy as a cock-eyed parrot. Damn! That's what he said. In normal times, I'd believe the doctor, but these ain't normal times, and I know there's somethin' fishy goin' on. Cuz I can feel it MYSELF! He can't feel what I'm feelin', so how would he know? He just don't understand. But sir, I gotta feelin' that you DO understand. I know you wanna shut that door on me, but please hear me out. What about your wife 'n' kids? Surely you've got 'em. A nice, passionate guy like yourself. You might even have two wifes 'n' kids. A great, innocent man like yourself. Yeah, I know yer type.
Are you okay sir? You seem a bit queasy. Maybe turnin' a new, distinct shade of blue. Like the color of your grocery cart there, but maybe a lil' bit browner. I knew this would happen...I just knew it. Perhaps I should come in and help you to your bed. I'll fix you a nice cup of tea and some wafers. Somethin' to settle your stomach. There, there, that's it. Just lie down for a little while. Yeah, rest them eyes and I'll be here when you wake.
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