Friday….January 8th…”Hauntings”….sleeping by yourself…and a new pair of white “GoGo” Boots….(you know the ones with the zippers in the back)…oh….and the marks light makes…..very important!!!

“Light Marks” 2009

“You can’t have everything. Where would you put it?” – Steven Wright

I couldn’t tell fresh…from frozen…from fabricated….so the experience needless to say was a stumble in a greater degree of darkness than…I was accustom too….sure things were going well….we had a place to live in with 2 doors….Wanda was wearing antlers at the truck stop…and shoes that were reminiscent of her bowling league days and me….I was…..saying stuff to the neighbors that…had the city fathers concerned about who they were really parenting…so you could easily see there was a strained dynamic…in the making…it wasn’t my drinking…or the massive cocaine habit I’d acquired over the past 23 years that was causing all of this…it was more the small stuff…you know…like mosquitoes when I was trying to sleep at night…I can’t say either….that the voices didn’t have something to do with it…but who listened to them all of the time anyway…..over the past few decades I heard them as a baby in a car seat crying on a long cross-country car trip….in Nevada…with the air conditioner broken….and the wife and I were arguing for a few hours about if Granny was older than Jed….in real life….so the voices…counted for little….he said it was spelling Bee day at school…a day that not only brought back a  degree of memory that caused me to hide under the dining room table at around 7 am…but also a great day for carwashes….and applying calamine lotion to the never-ending bites of “Pogonomyrmex barbatus”…something we’d grown accustom too living right where we did…it was sort of like living on some ancient burial ground…you know…they really should disclose that before purchaser signs beneath where seller signs their name….after all….who knows what spirits are going to be disturbrd….by Saturday morning lawn mowing and deep root fertilizing…not to mention the endless barbaques…and people walking over their graves…it is a set up…a place where certain pretty ugly things are going to happen late at night….and not many people are going to believe you….no matter how you try to explain those claw marks on the door…or the welling abscess looking thing on the side of your face that you swear your husband did not hit you with the shovel in a fit of rage….she put the prayer beads…out…sang a few hosannas…. talked right to the face of the Virgin herself….she even sorted through all of the tortillas at the grocery….hoping to find an image that remotely resembled Christ….she called the bottled water company and asked if it was blessed by priests….and if it wasn’t….could it be….she hit Send” and off her romance was….he was waiting on the other end…wearing a Blue prom dress….from 1973….drinking black coffee…listening to a Fleetwood Mac album that skipped every few seconds….his black horn-rimmed glasses slipped on his nose…..and all the while…..hoping she might be the one…..he  put the prayer beads…out…sang a few hosannas…. talked right to the face of the Virgin herself….he even sorted through all of the tortillas at the grocery….hoping to find an image that remotely resembled Christ….he called the bottled water company and asked if it was blessed by priests….and if it wasn’t….could it be….he needed to remind himself…to iron the wrinkles out of the prom dress…..he wrote on his hand….”Iron dress”…..she wrote on her hand….”Sweep floor”……and realized she had to hurry…she had rattlesnake handling at 2 this afternoon……God works in mysterious ways….she thought…….

Randy was an alcoholic…he was a dreamer….a point on the pin tip that made everyone nervous for a few minutes…..well read yet lost his articulation in the weeds by the side of the road….so really he was now a thinker…in those abstract ways…..those dark closet treks…from side to side…in that 6 x 8 space….seemd where the life could be sucked right out of you if you let….didn’t cover your mouth at night with a towel…or a sock… and they were those bi-fold closet doors with the spaceship looking brass disks….for handles….they were so modern…so “Now”…like gogo boots…the white ones with the zippers in the back…and he’d just push his way out in the morning…..a night time of howling in the closet….remembering  the breath of all of those people…kept him there…made him a little frightened…until the sun put light marks on the floor…enough to burn him hot but not enough to fry an egg in that sidewalk thinking…..where you could stand for hours…never hear a sound…no sizzle….nothing….just traffic from the freeway…down the hill….where they found the rusty gun…that morning when they were digging for the overpass…there next to that pile of bones that turned out to be a human skeleton….there was no more truth….it had long since gone….left in the wind that summer….when everything blew away….I remember walking those few blocks of town….her bras…hanging on the line….blowing in the dusty brown haze of the day….I really wished for green trees…and some water…and I didn’t care….anymore that his heart ……was weak….and we just could play hard…..or do much of anything….she lied a few days later…said he’d gone to heaven….and wouldn”t be back….this was surely going to be a long summer……

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