Saturday, May 06, 2006

Lunatic Monologues #4


You can help me feed the squirrels if you want. It's OK. It won’t hurt them. Not the peanuts, at least. You think I’d purposely kill a squirrel? You think I’m that cruel? That mean? I didn’t mean to do it. It really wasn’t even my fault. OK. OK. I did throw the French fry out in the street. But that’s it. No. It’s not littering. I wouldn’t litter. Ever. It’s biodegradable. It’s food. I figured the birds would eat it. They do. I’ve seen them. Just go to McDonald’s and look at all the birds eating French fries. You can even feed them if you want. It’s just the damn squirrels. That damned squirrel. So he runs out in the street to get the fry. Is that my fault? Is it? I don’t see how it could be. And I wasn’t driving the car. I was just standing there. It could’ve swerved. It could’ve slowed down. Do you see people blaming the driver? Do you see her getting… getting … all this? All these squirrels? Oh, it was just a few at first. And then, everywhere I looked, there were squirrels. They were up in the trees, looking in at me, through the windows. They were out on the lawn, waiting for me to come out of the house so they could run away. Sometimes, sometimes I’ll even hear them running across my roof. I think they’re even in the attic. Oh, they’re quiet. They’re listening. Planning. They’re on the side of the road, staring at me as I drive by. And they’re here in the park. There’s one behind us now. Don’t look at him! Act like nothing’s up. Oh, I know. It’s just a matter of time. But I’m not waiting. Do you know how easy it is to get C-4? You really think Homeland Security has a clue? 30 pounds of C-4, a few hundred ball bearings, some wire…. And one little button. The instructions are all there. They got everything on the Internet. So now, all I have to do is sit here and wait… The squirrels will come. No squirrel can resist a nut.

The Ephemeral

It's like I've forgotten who I was
or maybe I know
but I just can't get him back
he's out there
beyond the fog
like a ghost
lost between two worlds
unsure which is which
and not trusting in the light

At times
when I'm staring at the page
trying to get the right word right
I can feel him slip through me

Only they're wrong
it's not a chill
not a chill at all

It's the comfort of a warm blanket
when your fevor has made you feel cold

Sunday, April 30, 2006

Mein Furor...

So, I always am getting these what ifs...

What if you found a portrait done by Adolf Hitler. Never mind where or how, we can fill that in later. It's one that no one has ever seen before. Hey, these things turn up from time to time. And you know it's authentic. Doesn't matter how. Here's the deal. What if it were brilliant? Absolutely the most moving, tender picture you've ever seen...or for that matter, anyone else? A picture that no one can look at and not feel its power. Pure brillance. Absolute beauty. Absolute truth. Adolf Hitler...

And Now, for the Deep Thought of the Week

Some will curse the darkness, while others will light a match and burn down the Utility Company for cutting off their electricity.

Divine Justice

So you see, there was this guy named Elvin... it was a family name and he got enough shit to last a lifetime in the 8th grade, so back off. OK, so Elvin was going to this party over at this dude, Raymond’s, house. And he was going with his friend Claude... and, yes, he got a lot of shit in junior high, too. But, you see, the thing is, Elvin didn’t know Raymond, so just before they walked in, Claude says, “Dude, like Raymond’s a really cool guy and all, but whatever you do, don’t mention armadillos.” And, of course, Elvin had a question, which Claude answered. “Hell, I don’t know why. But if you ever say that word – armadillo – he’ll just go nuts. Total ape shit. No tellin’ what he’ll do.”

OK, seriously. “Armadillo” is not a word most people say on a daily basis. Armadillos are not something most people ever think about – like even once a week – unless you live in the Southwest. But they didn’t. They were in Kansas City. And, of course, Elvin believed Claude. And it just drove him nuts. All night long. Because Raymond was a big dude. Nobody ever gave him shit in junior high. But he was a really nice guy. But Elvin’s wondering, you know, about Armadillo and all, well, it just ruined the party and any chance he had with this really hot chick named Laurie, who he probably wouldn’t’ve scored with anyway, but that didn’t make any difference with Elvin.

And it didn’t stop there. Elvin was a mess. I’m talking like for a whole week. Because he had to know. I mean, it’s just one of those things that wouldn’t let him go. So finally, like at 7:00 on a Thursday night, he goes over to Raymond’s. And when Raymond opens the door, Elvin just yells out, “Armadillo!”

And Raymond does nothing. Well, he blinked a couple of times and gave Elvin a look kind of like “What the hell?” And then he watched as Elvin stomped away. And Elvin stomped straight over to Claude’s house, and then he stomped Claude’s ass. He beat the living shit out of him for messing with his mind – you know, telling him that crap about Raymond and the word Armadillo. I mean, Elvin was really pissed.

He probably would’ve gotten over it though, because he never really could keep mad about anything. But he was run over. Right there in Claude’s front yard. By Raymond. I mean splat. The son of a bitch never even slowed down.