When They Clip Your Wings

   It began in October, it evaporated in December. The whole thing ended. We were ka-put, finit, terminated. It was the end of the story, except it wasn't and it never is. It was a temporary pause, a freeze in story-time, an electric crackle in the air. We continued on, just in our own separate ways.

   Back in the Fall I saw you at the crowded corner bar. You bought me a drink and winked one of your sapphire-blue eyes. You said, "Babe, you're too damn beautiful for a place like this. Let's get the heck out of Dodge!"

  I rolled my eyes, but melted internally. The line was cheesy, sure, but those eyes could drive a girl crazy. I downed the drink and said, "Alright, Romeo" We drove off into the night in his red corvette, the engine thrummed with delight.

   For a dozen weeks or so we thrummed with delight ourselves. Like hawks taken by heat thermals we spiraled higher and higher. But with every spiral comes a fall. And boy, when we fell, we fell hard. Just a short set of words on that flurried December night and you cut my heart free. I wandered off to the river to watch the snow fall and feel my emotions evaporate through my skin only to freeze upon hitting the air.  When they clip your wings, you fall and you fall hard.

  With my new found apathy and numbness I left. I got out of this other "Dodge" we had created for ourselves. This time more literally, I didn't stop the car once 'til I had hit the Nebraska state-line with its rolling amber fields of grain.  From afar it looks as if you could swim through those fields just as easily as the ocean. I felt at peace, or started to anyway. The question I posed to myself was, "After finding what I'd unknowingly been searching for, what then?"

  I got back in the car and smiled, let's start with and Iced tea and a hot slice of pie and go from there. And so I did, stopping at the first Mom and Pop diner I came to. The Pop of the diner looked like he could have been my grandpa, or at least someone's grandpa. He welcomed me in out of the heat and told me he thought I should know I was beautiful. I blushed, especially since an old man's compliments tend to be the most sincere. What reason is there to be insincere about anything when you're old? None. I thanked him and ordered a sweet tea and whatever pie they had fresh, the Pop said they had just baked one full of wild blue-berries, I said that sounded just fine.

Mark Foster, A-trak, and Kimbra
Warrior

July ain't over til....

July ain't over til
that cigarette
dangling between
your lips has been
lit,
with the last match-stick
in my book

July ain't over til
I've seen you blow
smoke carelessly,
freely through
the falling burnt dusk sky

July ain't over til
those astral trails
of the day's clouds
float up,
only to obscure,
the perfect
golden moon
hanging from a thread

July ain't over til
we've lain
 on that blanket
up on
Killow's Knee,
that jutting, grassy,
rock,
over-looking everything

July ain't over til
I've seen your
ghost
disappear from sight,
while the music rings
in my ears
from all those concerts

Deluge of Urgency

  Oh how you shouted out in anguish; Oh how you cried out in the night! Your voice cut through my mind, though I was halfway across the town I came running, how my legs moved that night! I sprinted with all my might, hoping to somehow beat the hands of fate. I knew not the trouble you were in, only that I was needed; so I ran on.

  When I arrived at your apartment the door to the complex wasn't locked. I did not need to be buzzed in. Odd, but it was as if the building was welcoming me back after all that time. Up the stairs I vaulted, tow at a time until door 3C was in front of me. I shouted, "Jennifer?! Are you okay?" in reply I only heard a lonesome murmur from the other side of the door. Again the door wasn't locked, I rushed inside.

  I checked each room only to find you curled in a ball on the carpet in the living room. I picked you up in my arms and rocked you like a baby. I whispered, "It'll all be okay." though I still didn't know what had occurred or how okay things would in fact be. 

Security

   "Do you have your knife, Valerie?"
 
               "For the last time, YES!", Valerie answered, frustrated by her roommate parenting her on the way out the door.

   "Are you sure?  You know there have been incidents lately.", Rose pestered further.

        "Am I sure?", Valerie sighed deeply for effect, "Here I'll show you if that'll put your mind at ease." She proceeded to pull her black and cobalt-blue switch blade from its hiding place on her upper thigh under her ruffled skirt. With a snap of her wrist she extended the blade which made an audible "Shhhkt!", Valerie then swiped expertly at the air several times to demonstrate her proficiency with the blade.

      "Are you happy now?"

"Quite.", Rose said with a look of mixed pride and satisfaction, "Have fun at the party!"

Wash the Tears Away

  Unstable in her heels, she stumbled up the steps to the podium. She grasped the sides of the wooden box for stability and began to speak. But try as she might, no sound came from her mouth, though a solitary tear flowed down her cheek. As the droplet left her cheek to fall to the carpet she dug a silver flask from her purse and took a swig. The parents gasped, but their teenage children dressed in various shades of black followed her lead and took a swig from whatever they were carrying.

   The parents looked absolutely aghast now; as parents it was their job to look aghast and worry. Up at the podium Tiffany began to speak, this time with a bit of whiskey courage in her voice. "Daniel always said if we ever got sad, if ever a tear comes to our eyes when thinking of a friend who is too far away, then take a swig and wash the tears away. I'm not sure that was the best advice, but it seems entirely appropriate now that he's as far away as he'll ever be." Tiffany paused as a few more tears ran down her puffy cheeks. She took another swig from the flask and continued on, "Daniel was a fool. I mean that. I loved him with all my heart, but in the end he was an idiot, which is probably why we loved him in the first place. He drove too fast. He talked too fast. He cared too much. And damn it now he's gone!"

   Again Tiffany grabbed the sides of the podium for stability, "All you parents out there are probably just blaming yourselves and blaming us in the process. You know what? That's selfish. And frankly ignorant. Excuse me, but it is! Daniel was a good man...a damn good man! You can ask any person in this room. Ask them how he was able to put a smile on their face at the drop of a hat. Sure he was a fool at times and frustrating, but damnit he had a heart as big as the sun. I think that was the problem, it was too big for his chest and like a fire cracker his wick was much too short. Here's to Daniel, the one who cared beyond necessity, the one who lived as fast and full as he could right up until the end.", She took one final drink then gracefully stepped down from the podium and retook her seat. The church burst into solemn applause and more than a few tears, followed by a cheer of, "To Daniel!" and raised glasses were shared.

Drop by Drop

                                    Plip-Plip-Plip-Plip-Plip-Plip-Plip-Plip-Plip-Plop

  The faucet dripped continuously, drop by drop. A cascade of tiny pellets of water running, running, running. I turned the handle tighter and tighter, to no avail. The mechanicas of the faucet did not, would not correspond to the simplicity of the dripping water.

                  Plip-Plip-Plip-Plip-Plip-Plip-Plip-Plip-Plip-Plip-Plop

   Zen harmony in the repitition or insistent psychotic torture? I never could decide. I always thought it better to tune it out into the background like the static that persists between radio stations.  For the most part it was an unmendable situation, so so I didn't mend it, I adapted myself.

                            Plip-Plip-Plip-Plip-Plip-Plip-Plip-Plip-Plip-Plip-Plop

Happy Fourth: Gunshots in the Distance, Sparklers in the Mist

     Hello everybody and everyone, I haven't been as frequent with my posting lately, though I have been meaning to post many different things. That's just how things go sometimes, like it or not. Sadly I will also be gone for a week without internet access so there will not be any posts next week either, since I will be relaxing in Northern Wisconsin, kayaking around our small lake, snorkeling and hopefully getting some writing done. And even when I do not have the time to write things down, I never stop thinking of fantastical ideas and stories. So those of you, if there are any, don't despair I've got some wondrous ideas rolling about, I just need to take the time to get them out. I need to take the time to lower the bucket into the well and see what cool water lays at the bottom. I've got to be Tom Thumb and find what lies down there.

  I was thinking earlier: what better way to celebrate Independence Day than by writing out a few words, for even a few words is a wonderful way to express our freedom of speech. I'm thankful I have this blog and the ability to say what sometimes occurs to me. Here's some music to go with, complete with many examples of dancing, I hope you enjoy.

Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros
Man on Fire