Friday…December 11th…Happy birthday Pop…..somewhere over the rainbow…..Crows fly…..not bluebirds….little alterboy

“She Just Walked …Away” 2009

“Never miss a chance to shut up” – Will Rogers

it was far away from these days…..something almost difficult to remember…but I guess if I thought enough about it..it could clear some…maybe reveal some of the design…as kind of a hint…for me….but it all depended….depended on the angles…the color that day of the sunset…did I even want to know those things again…or were they like small seed pearls in a cup from the old women on the side of the road….trying to sell the ocean…piece by piece…or did the new Faganism….sound so out-of-bounds that it was hard for anybody  else to get it….but me….perhaps it was just adding “Ism” to the end of anything that made it seem so important that concrete day of redemption…and we all… left our small wooden dolls with the broken spoked wheels….there..over by the heaps of cardboard they’d been saving for a lifetime….and thought it was really valuable….almost priceless….similar to those late night smiles….when the words don’t have to travel far….or make a whole lot sense….they can just hang there in the thick summer air….waiting to be picked…picked like the ripe fruit…from those farm windows days…when life was just a basket…….where the old yellow dog slept his days away….

I remember…that first day I met you…it was long before you knew me…so I could read the right books…know the formulas…a few years before we met…you had a lazy eye….looked past everyone even me….sort of made me want to look over my shoulder…see who else was there…because I could see…you’d never be alone…always…someone…maybe the priest…or those young boys with the angelic robes to match their faces….their shellaced hair….shiny like a crows wing….while you acted older….smoked Taryton cigarettes from an ivory holder…yellowed…when they sang…those… church like songs…and your red fingernails dug into everyone’s skin….as if you had to…to hold on….I never understood the fake fur coat….the blue line tattoos….that looked like veins….and how your missing teeth were those canyons I feared as a child….they told me you were satan….a demon…but I didn’t believe…the devil could work at the pharmacy across the street……smile those sweet roll smiles….and drag the rest of us to hell…..when they weren’t looking….

my thoughts were worth far more than a penny…I wasn’t sure how much more….but I knew more….she’d walked her way all of the way to the end of the  street…she said goodbye…waved…and walked over the little rise in Star Avenue….out of sight….and was gone….took a piece of the small map with her…I found out later…maybe not so much to find her way…but like a memory that doesn’t stay in the mind….more like a trophy….a winners garland…that dries….to fragile of a thought about something a long time ago….it was about the dues…the days the numbers never came up the same…..even when I used the calculator….plug in one…subtract a few…and then those astrix buttons…made the calculation seem like another language…and I only knew the buttons for “Bathroom”…”Cigarettes”….”How much”…..and “Trapazoid”…never real sentences…just sounded like it to someone else…..they seemed fooled….but the same words…meant different things on those days….that “How much” really meant…..”I am not hungry…thank you”…..so that’s where the real confusion made it’s appearance….I heard she….met a man named Dave…and they married a few weeks later……hmm…..

You could call it an interrpretation….a facsimile….a prespective….or nothing at all….which may have been easier…kind of like kids trying to answer a question they don’t know…just to have their hand up…to say….”I forgot”…like those small gears that turn the big gears….with the oily turns…and soft motor sounds…from the shed….where the wizard lived….it was his birthday today…he’d have been a few hundred years old…..but they put enough rocks on him to keep him in the ground…so no cake or party….maybe I’d put a hat there…to remind me….of those days we’d roll cigarettes…sitting on the tailgate of the truck….mine rolled like fish…when I licked the glue strip…it was a transparent fish….with brown tobacco insides….pregnant belly fish….more guppies is how he saw it…but who was I to argue…he knew fish…I knew….squares…..and shapes…more then…those desert smells kept me away from the…place…when something’s dead….on the desert…the smell blankets the whole deseret…like fog…a rich sweet smell…not like a chocolate cake…frosting smell….but a scent like a rotten meat fragrance…but sweet….picked over body twisted from the hard pullers….white bone ash….scraped clean by teeth….it’s where they all gather to tell their stories in some way….until their turn happens…..there on the spit dry earth…..where its blood turned the dry dirt dark………for a few days…….the weatherman said…partly cloudy today….I believed him…for the first time….

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