GD common decency

I mean what-the-fuck…Man, these things are making them worse…not better.

CH 5 How

The elders came over to see Mamma. Her and Daddy were lying around, as per usual. The elders song was tied to Mama, daddy never heard it. We all believed Daddy may still be kindling. Daddy was reading Jesus’ Son, he’d stole a copy from the Senatobia library. Daddy and Momma were compulsive thieves. They burned shit too.

The kid weren’t old enough to even be in the club. Somin bout his bold face made the whole ordeal seem like one of those dreams where your arms aint working, or plumb slow. The slinky way the boy moved wernt normal. Whisp-o-white. Quarter to two. Almost made it out. Eyeball hanging, dripping face juice just made the absurd more so. He had a crew cut that wernt lined up, maybe 170. His semi-angelic countenance a bit demonic. Titanium his white. Everything else was neon to his reality. Dancing it seemed. Footwork like one of those Latin dancer wit the thick legs. Yelawolf screaming over the top of dull restlessness in which they all seemed to move cept the kid.

He's watching every move, high-tech redneck.

Run up on him if you want to, i be ready, come on.

It might be dark in the woods. But the lights are on.

The money's counted, and if the price is wrong.

Well then, Billy will get them Gremlins like Spielberg.

He'll take your house down, off of them pillars.

And take your mom to sizzler, and feed her chicken liver.

That's cold blooded love, Billy's a chiller.

He seemed to hover back a bit from each confrontation, legs not resting under but before him. Hands mostly by his sides clenching and unclenching till hed dipped under, around or back and hurled a flurry from shit covered purple. It wasn’t slow motion but there were two different speeds at work in this fight and this white boy was working on a chain with a warped part. Cane syrup then invisible.

Terry-Lee stayed back in the shadow by the john with a hard-on. They aint no way, he thought. He kept his face open, confident of his depth perception. Most of the boys had run off. Some had stayed to get a lick in on either side, but Bo seemed to not need no help. Almost every time he swayed back and forward someone went down. The air in Similies was thick, music deafening and some boys was bad hurt .

4:30 in the A.M., Billy ain't slept for days.

Gotta keep up with the profit, gotta keep up with the craze.

It's a heavy shade, gotta walk through the maze.

Down where the sun don't shine, and the palm trees sway.

And when the wind blew, and the cradle fell.

Down come baby Billy, and up come an able male.

Mama stayed at work, daddy stayed in jail.

Hey, that's a full deck, but you gotta play with what you're dealt.

So Billy dealt the joker, put the sheriff in the choker.

He drank himself sober, and pissed in a SuperSoaker.

And he wet em all up, and left his snow yellow.

That's hard white boy, for the ello.

The boy was silent. He didnt ever talk once. No one really knew if he was a retard. No, dude really. He didnt want to be stupid. He didnt want to be a racist. He didnt want to be looked at like they looked at James, but he knew they did.

They were in a circle, its seemed to be the most equalizing arraignment. The pastor was kind of green, sickly but animated. Momma said she’d been sober for 3 days and everyone clapped. They weren’t real AA people. Those people are real. Ive seen shit in NA meetings that shoulda been in the Holy Word or at least a drip a Rilke. I saw a woman from Caipi, Spain meet her daughter she had put up for adoption 30 years prior. Neither one of them lived in Dallas, which is where the meetin was. They were both addicted to dope. They looked alike. In Oxford a man killed his wife and they pastor in the commode . I aint kiddin when I say an old man stood up and hollar’d, “Listen here. They’s always more room in hell. Yall” he leaned back in his boots, face like a pickled prune, “Jehovah don’t play and them two came up on a hard white boy. “ He sat down in the folding chair, “I reckon we hear one more shot and then we keep on with this here meeting which is the only thang separating me from that poor dead boy in the shitter.”

Momma couldn’t be on the run to save her life and everyone kinda saw that she was gonna somehow slime her way into some small town cops line of fire. Mamma loved Scarlett. She loved Norma Jean. Momma’s ability to be a fucked up decision making whirlpool of liability was eternal. I have sat down and reasoned with her. Straight sober and the brilliant darkness of something strangling her that I couldn’t see was making her decide on the worst option of every option, every time. In my dope days, I saw it like a thick ropy neon burnt umber lizard without any legs. Not wrapped but fat and heavy on her neck and shoulder with a stupid face. The world stupidest demon. I swear if Mamma could’a chose hers, that one wouldn’t be it. Daddy. Man, if he wasn’t almost the Joker himself, he’d a eaten some high powered rat poison.

Well I had got me some high-powered rat poison …I hate everything. The bile of what I’d done ate me. Licked at my open chest. A gaping wound. I had to kill that man, I had killed a few now. On the radio, someone would soon be saying my name and all I could think about was keeping all eyes on me. 

I spun that For onto 55 when I got there.  Everything's messy, ya know.  People talk a lot about peace but rightly, i just want some common decency and cleanliness.