I'm just geeked out.

Waiting to come down. Staring straight into the eyes of the most disgusting form of life I had ever encountered in my short, yet well manicured time, on this blustery little blue orb of ours.

Scribble my syllables, thoughts
in this rats den called my head are drifting through the rafters,
filling pages of the sages sorcerous spellbook
bound in silver
gray and quite trivial
Am I real
or still in stasis?

Pages fly freely through the mindly breezes

Awaken, ye sleepless trapses!

Mind ye, the hour of assembly is nimbly numbered.

Some dumb bum, singing hymns, humbly, bumped into me, then.

Numbstruck, I mumbled "what the fuck?"

Defensively, I struck first.

He jumped back, landed, then planted into a handstand.

"I knew that'd come in handy," he panted. He had planned it. On the off chance some offensive stuff offered up in a class last winter might fit in.

He was living in a tent, then. Ten or more cluttered in a ravine made what passed for a safe place in this wasteland of grassgrown settlements. Disheveled  shacks, some leveled, or better yet, ransacked by hired hellions. Left as reminders; that he who transacted in man's actions, the devil, was right behind you...


What?

"Is it something I said? When did being an ignorant pathetic, weak minded and  rambling old creep become a crime?"

Chester. It was Chester. I was looking dead ahead. Seated. The confrontation with the other dumb bum was all in my head!

"It's these phones," Chester was rambling "Everyone's so sensitive....In my day if you wanted to stare at a screen all day you went to the window and watched all the dolled up little vixens stroll by....

"And if you wanted to hit one up, you just shouted their name or 'Hey, good lookin! Whatcha got cookin? No - seriously. What do you have for me, WOMAN! WHERE IS MY FUCKING DINNER, GOD DAMMIT!!!!!!'"

What could I do? I nodded, head darting side to side, eyes scanning, searching for some sign of an escape route, without being too obvious.

"That'd probably offend em now too! I used to shove my peaches... down their throat. They'd swallow em whole. Seed n all! Pow! They weren't from Georgia....but they were juicy. Back when a man was proud of the fuzz on his fruit and wasn't skeered to give a woman what she wants : fresh American produce....WHOLE! Seed and all! Did I mention the seed? Why..."

He took a moment. Breathed. Spit. Drank.

"...I musta put my seeds in half of Kentucky and a good quarter of Indiana. Now these were unsliced peaches, mind you. Whole, round, juicy, fuzz covered peaches. Straight from the source. I had a grocer I went through. Jewish guy. Got into with me for 5 grand. Back when 5 grand meant something and people paid their debts.

"Well...they paid cause they knew I'd tear em apart, limb from limb. And they knew us Americans stuck together. A family. Back when we ran these streets..."!

🌁🌫🌫🌬🌫🌬🌫🌬🌫🌫🌁

Everything faded...


My "childhood"

🔍

Tainted by...

desperately but barely suppressed waves of still vivid and humiliating mockery.

As real and painful now as ever...

Mother a concept defined by warped laughter, seething with spite and rare delight, like a snake...

bites...
pride and dying innocence clinging to life by ignorant notions of love and acceptance.

Spite rings out as churchbells toll...living and thriving emottions echo as cackling in a fire burning...
beckoned, biting.

Yearning...

Cackling tongues of flame
Cackling laughter hues of red
Visions of truth and life, fed from the demeaning and bullying form of amusement. Derrived from witnessing one honest moment of life from her son, unfettered by the weight of defensive instinct, veiled in...

Dues of the dead
Hues of the...

Utterly humiliating...

The only laughter that escaped my mother's mask of control...
... directed at every mistake...

or moment of perceived weakness...

or attempt made in lowering the walls of defense that caged in and imprisoned me...

On a raft afloat
Weak in the knees, alone in the ocean...

notions of weakness, vague defiled remains of humanity and honesty

  to achieve a moment of love.

Violence, loneliness, and where every scrape of existence and humanity defining homelife and survival of the fittest for every waking moment

and every crumb of undefiled emotion

resembling motherly love
that could be latched onto for a second and desperately treasured and savored before being callously ripped away forever

cast

in the cold darkness of bitter

loveless



and revenge filled ire


that form the tangled roots of reason that anchored any action, mundane or lofty, to the cold void of remorse that filled the shallow empty hole where no soul could be found.

Except in traces of mocking laughter and acceptance, for instance as she watched other humans' pain in corporate glee and instantly all were laughing in unbridled delight.

Her own children gazing on her, her hopeless death, tainted, and demented life...

laid bare before innocent eyes

all truth

goodness revealed as lies and insanity and survival of the fittest the only truths to guide a boy to the life of selfishness that would rob him of all self.

A shell.

Whew! I was a rambling, incoherent mess. Newsflash! This just in! I WAS FUCKED, OKAY!?

"At least then maybe we could get some MEN in this group with some fashion sense," Chester was prattling, eyes aglaze, "and an understanding of how to treat a fuckin a guy before you fuck em in the ass!"

He paused. Our eyes met. He shuffled uncomfortably. "Uh. I...I like flavorful italian sausages, too."

I gasped. "What?"

"I was telling a story here! Can't you shut up for five seconds and let an elder speak. You might learn something. God damn. Anyway...

TO BE CONTINYAD!

*spits*