STRIKE
The lights flicker
Time to move quicker
Clock begins to chime
I’m running out of time
Can you hear the sound
Of my heart begin to pound
Lightning flashes in the sky
Hide, ah it’s too late to even try
What was that?
Oh, it was just a rat~
Uh, no I’ve been spotted
In the blink of an eye
The lightning strikes again
I love the smell of rain
I can’t breathe
Where’d that rat go?
I’m running out of air
Right in my own lair.
So, this is what I get?
I guess~ you never forget—
Is it too late to say sorry?
-*heart begins to beat very slowly*
#STRIKE.
Bucket List
There were ten items on Stash McGee’s to-do list on June, 17, but jumping off a cliff was NOT one of them!
But let me go back to the beginning of Stash’s reckless venture into the drug world which was first on his list. Stash had never done anything right so this would not be the first time! He had boarded a cruise ship in Miami and jumped off the lower deck near Anguilla, in the Caribbean. Unfortunately, he had misjudged the distance and struggled to reach the island floundering through white capped seas. It was harder than he thought because he had a heavy money belt around his waist and was still wearing his shoes! He lay prostrate on the beach for several hours until one of the native islanders found him and dragged him back to his small colorful cottage.
“Hey, what’s up, mon?” asked Banjo, the islander.
“I need to find a place to buy cocaine. Where can I get it?” Stash asked which was probably the dumbest thing he had every uttered.
“Oh, mon, I can help you. I have a friend who can get you coke on St. Martins which is really close and I can take you there in my rowboat for $500.”
Both Stash and Banjo piled into the rickety rowboat and headed in the general direction of St. Martins through the rough seas. Soon the patch on the bottom of the rowboat came loose and the boat began to sink. Stash abandoned ship, deciding to swim to St. Martins which was in view. What Banjo hadn’t told him was that the water was so shallow, he could wade in. Banjo sloshed through the water with him and introduced him to his friend, Stubbs, and then left him to go back home.
“Twenty thousand dollars,” said Stubbs. “Meet me in four hours at the other side of the island by the cliffs and I’ll have the coke for you in a suitcase.”
Stash spent the time while he was waiting drinking island rum. Realizing he was too drunk to walk across the island, he paid someone to take him there and drop him off. But no one was there waiting so he removed the money from his money belt and tucked it into his pants so no one could rob him. He was watching a school of sharks from the top of a cliff when Stubbs came up behind him and put a gun in his back. Rather than give up the money, Stash took a flying leap off the cliff, landing right in the midst of the sharks.
Well, Stash never did finish the nine other things on his bucket list!
Infidel
You’re magic wrapped in faithlessness
Like the smoke that comes once the match burns down to the pad of the finger and burning nail and torched skin bites at your nose
Like the fetid detritus offered up to a porcelain alter, two fingers clawing wildly at the back of the throat, acid pouring past teeth
Like the wet left behind after sex
The copper penny that sits on the tongue after swallowing blood
You’re fortunes wrapped in the absence of the future
Like the umbilical cord that hangs on, dying, shriveled once the mouth can feed itself
Like rust crawling in cancerous sores across metal in the rain
The bird that flew into the too clean glass, wings broken, feathers bent, eyes rolled back, fog-covered black orbs
You’re fire wrapped in wet
Grass wrapped in weeds
Fruit wrapped in flies
Cars wrapped in accidents
Towers wrapped in suicides
Muscles in spasms
Organs in cancer
Bones in fissures
Skin in infection
Skin in bruises
Skin in scabs
Skin crying plasma and rot
Skin raw, dried, flaking
January 2010
So many dreams about you
So many times I had you
I can feel your lips
I touched you
But then I wake up and open my eyes
And then come to realize...
It's just a dream
In dreams you can do anything
It's not what it seems in real life
I would close my eyes forever
If it meant I could be with you
I wish you knew
Fear
Fear starts in the pit of my stomach, twisting and writhing, refusing to leave me alone. Tiny tendrils reach up, spreading like a wildfire that engulfs me and squeezes tightly, making it hard to breathe, limiting my air. Then I take a deep breath. The panic stops and I go back to my business as if it didn’t happen.
But I know that it did.
