(Inspired by This Is the House That Jack Built)

Crack House

This is the house that police raided.
This is the needle
That lay in the house that police raided.
This is the wimp,
That injected the needle
That lay in the house that police raided.

This is the ****,
That bought the wimp,
That injected the needle
That lay in the house that police raided.

This is the cop,
That alarmed the ****,
That bought the wimp,
That injected the needle
That lay in the house that police raided.

This is the dealer with the street popcorn,
That distracted the cop,
That alarmed the ****,
That bought the wimp,
That injected the needle
That lay in the house that police raided.

This is the pervert stocked with ****,
That bought from the dealer with the street popcorn,
That distracted the cop,
That alarmed the ****,
That bought the wimp,
That injected the needle
That lay in the house that police raided.

This is the baby recently born,
That annoyed the pervert stocked with ****,
That bought from the dealer with the street popcorn,
That distracted the cop,
That alarmed the ****,
That bought the wimp,
That injected the needle
That lay in the house that police raided.

This is the gang armed with scorn,
That kidnapped the baby recently born,
That annoyed the pervert stocked with ****,
That bought from the dealer with the street popcorn,
That distracted the cop,
That alarmed the ****,
That bought the wimp,
That injected the needle
That lay in the house that police raided.

This is the homeless man that begged at morn,
That waked the gang armed with scorn,
That kidnapped the baby recently born,
That annoyed the pervert stocked with ****,
That bought from the dealer with the street popcorn,
That distracted the cop,
That alarmed the ****,
That bought the wimp,
That injected the needle
That lay in the house that police raided.

This is the panhandler all forlorn,
That supported the homeless man that begged at morn,
That waked the gang armed with scorn,
That kidnapped the baby recently born,
That annoyed the pervert stocked with ****,
That bought from the dealer with the street popcorn,
That distracted the cop,
That alarmed the ****,
That bought the wimp,
That injected the needle
That lay in the house that police raided.

This is the cardboard sign and clothes all torn,
That belonged to the panhandler all forlorn,
That supported the man that begged at morn,
That waked the gang armed with scorn,
That kidnapped the baby recently born,
That annoyed the pervert stocked with ****,
That bought from the dealer with the street popcorn,
That distracted the cop,
That alarmed the ****,
That bought the wimp,
That injected the needle
That lay in the house that police raided.

Back when I was about ten or eleven, the only friend I had was the most beautiful girl I knew. Her name was Jessica and her and I did everything together. In school we were inseparable, always chit-chatting before, during and after classes. So much so that teachers bestowed upon us the annoying, yet endearing, encompassing nickname of "Jackica" - a combination of our names; Jack and Jessica.
     I was so thankful for her companionship, and thinking back it might have been a pretty uneven relationship, emotionally. I was an overweight and awkward Harry Potter fanboy and she was a cute little auburn-haired thing who could've won any Miss America Junior competition in the world, as far as I was concerned. She had the most piercing powder blue eyes. The kind that made my skin tingle and mouth curl up into a stupid smile at any given moment. I felt like she saw me, like she really saw ME. Not the blubbery flesh that coated my muscle and bones but what I was made of, the real me. And I loved her for that.
     Along with Jessica's physical blessings, she was also given an insatiable appetite for adventure. She loved to go to the park at night,  after the gates were locked and when everything was drenched in darkness. We'd hop the five foot chain-link fence and roam around the grounds. We'd go the water at the edge of the park and sit on the rocks, look up at the stars and take turns telling stories to each other with intent to scare the **** out of the other one.
     One humid night in mid-June, Jessica told a story that succeeded in making my skin-crawl. She always told decent scary stories, she was gifted in the art of fabricating tales of fright right on the spot, but this story really got to my core for some reason. I just felt uneasy as the words spilled from her mouth to my ears and with each sentence my muscles tightened and strained just from the mere tone of her voice as she told the story. She sounded serious, and she rarely did, even when telling these stories, but with this particular one it sounded like she really believed what she was saying was cold, hard truth.
     What she said was that she heard a story that her older brother's girlfriend had told her. It was about a house on the outskirts of town, placed just a few hundred yards from the mouth of the woods that lined our little suburban utopia. She went on to say that in the house was nothing all that scary. She said it was an old house, a very old house, as it was a log cabin that was built in the 1700s, when the town was first being settled. Supposedly, everything in the house was just as it was back then, little kerosene lamps sitting on home-mad oak tables. The maple-wood floors would moan and creak at the slightest hint of any weight being put on them. And then she said that no one had lived in the house since the man who built it died, around 1785.
     Needless to say, Jessica wrapped up the story by proclaiming that we had to find the house. And we had to go inside and see for ourselves what was so creepy about it. Being the scared, chubby little wimp that I was, I immediately rejected the idea. There was no way I was going to try to find a place that would only succeed in making me **** my pants in front of a girl, especially the one whom I'd placed the delusional label of "future girlfriend" on.  But, as I subconsciously expected, Jessica talked me into it with just a few graceful words: "I'll kiss you if you come with me."
    
     The very next Saturday night, Jessica and I put on some dark jeans and t-shirts and took the bus all the way to the last stop, the edge of town. We hopped off and right in front of the stop the woods were already waiting, I took a deep breath as Jessica's eyes lit up. She took my hand and pulled me as she ran, me clumsily waddling along behind her all the way to a little dirt pathway that paved the only marked entrance we could see. She asked me if I was ready and I shrugged, saying something like "I'm as ready as I'm ever going to be." And so we started down the path. As the tall trees swayed in the wind, I dragged my feet with  Jessica always about five feet ahead of me, as eager as ever. We walked for probably ten or twenty minutes before the foot of the cabin was before us.
     At first sight, it was a very old structure. I'd never seen anything like it outside of paintings in my history textbook and this Abe Lincoln documentary I saw on PBS. I never knew houses like that stood the test of time. But there it was before me, two stories high with wooden shutters clad in severely chipped paint and a big oak door that looked stronger than any door I'd ever seen. Jessica took my hand again, smiled enchantingly and rushed me forward.
     Once at the door, I was speechless. It didn't look as old as the rest of the house and whoever made it obviously meant for it to last a very long time, taking extreme care in carving it out impeccably and sanding it until it shined with a professional touch. Without a word, Jessica rapped on the door. Three hard times, and when no one answered after thirty seconds, she rapped again, and again. She shrugged and turned to me, asked if we should just go in. I said no and she frowned.
     "There's no way we came this far just to go back home with nothing," and then she wrapped her hand around the rusted doorknob and turned.
     The door opened with no hesitation as she pushed it all the way in. She stepped inside, and I followed. The first thing I noticed inside the cabin was the creaking floors. They creaked louder and longer with each step, affirming that part of the story, making my blood run cold. We looked around, going from room to room with wide eyes. We were amazed that we made it, that we got inside and now we were actually investigating a place that no one else supposedly had gone before. Truth be told, though, it was nothing special. There wasn't much at all to see, save for a few tables, the creaking floors and some very old paintings on the wall. We were just leaving when we noticed something on a table nearest the big oak door. It was a metal box with a small lock fastened to the front of it.
     "We have to open it," Jessica proclaimed after a second of curious inspection.
     "There's no way were going to find the key," I told her.
     "So we'll break the lock, Jack. Duh," she replied in her sassiest tone.
     I just shook my head as she grabbed the box and began to furiously slam it in the wooden table. The sound echoed through the house, exacerbating it and making me shiver from head to toe.
     "I don't know if you should keep-" but my sentence was cut off my the lock flying off the box and clinking onto the floor below.
Jessica smiled again, very pleased with herself and looked to me.
     "Wonder what's inside...," She said, lifting the top half of the box open.
     After an initial and cough-inducing puff of thick dust subsided, the contents of the box were revealed. It was a letter, written on old-school parchment in heavy ink. In neatly laid Victorian script, the likes of which I had never seen so simultaneously neat and scattered, like it was written in a hurry or during a time of distress, was a love letter. Well, a kind of love letter. It was addressed to a woman named Tania and it was signed by a William. It told the story of how William had loved Tania since they were children, and Tania was now to be married to a Pastor named Hensley. William told Tania how he couldn't bear the thought of her ever being with anyone else and that the fact that she could never truly be his was killing him. Literally. He ended the note by confessing his plan to **** himself.
     I took a step back, but Jessica just stood at the table with her eyes glued to the crumbling parchment in her hands.
     "I'm leaving," I said after a few moments, mulling over the sorrow that this poor man must've felt. I headed out the door, Jessica following. The walk back through the woods to the bus stop I couldn't get this feeling of dread from subsiding. It seemed like I felt what William felt, but not in a sympathetic sort of way. It felt like I was William and the pain he felt was actually my pain. And then I noticed that, rolled up tightly in her fist, Jessica had taken the letter with her.
     "Why'd you take that," I said, sounding thoroughly upset. "That's not yours to take, go bring it back!"
     "No way. There was no way I was going there and coming back with nothing to show for it," she said, gripping the letter tightly, her knuckles almost whitening.
     I knew how stubborn Jessica could be and I knew whatever I said probably wouldn't even phase her in the slightest so I did what I did best and just shrugged it off. I found myself wishing I could shrug off the terrible feeling the letter put deep inside me just as easily as I could Jessica's stubbornness.

     Over time, Jessica and I lost touch, as kids of that age often do. I grew up, lost weight and opened up, making more friends and acquaintances, no longer hanging onto the thought of Jessica being my only love. I didn't talk to Jessica all that much. Just once in a while we'd meet up and have a chat over some coffee or pizza. We had both changed and morphed into young adults with different agendas and dreams and I had no problem with that. But on one such meeting, Jessica began to worry me. She said that every now and then she'd open her desk drawer and take the piece of parchment out and read it. Over and over again. And lately, she had been opening the drawer more and more, she said that she felt drawn to it. Like something about it made her feel this deep-seated dread that no horror movie or scary story had ever made her feel. She said that she felt like the letter was beginning to take a toll on her. And, by the look of her, it didn't seem like she was lying or kidding around like she always used to love to do. She had dark circles underneath her once striking eyes, which were now darker and had taken on an odd and ominous color. I was scared for her. And I told her so but she hugged me and assured me she was alright. I wanted to believe her, and I tried to, hugging her back and telling her I'd talk to her soon. But when she turned her back I knew something was very wrong.

     I'm writing this now because a few weeks ago Jessica's mom gave me a call. When her number came up on my cell phone, I think I knew, deep down, e actor why I was getting this call but I pushed the thought away and said hello. Jessica's mother called to tell me that a few days before Jessica had gone missing. The only indication to her whereabouts was a note she left with the words "cabin at the edge of town", and below that, instructions on how to get there. Her mother said she took the note and hopped in her car immediately, and made it to the cabin. She said she was breathless by the time she got to the cabin but forged on and barged inside and looked around. She said she found nothing and was about to leave when she noticed a small door behind the big oak door she had swung open to get inside. She opened the little door to find a stairwell. She climbed it, calling Jessica's name all the way, sobbing and wiping tears from her eyes. At the top of the stairs was the attic. And she said she almost died herself when she saw Jessica. She was hanging from a wooden rafter on the ceiling. And next to her was a severely decayed skeleton, dangling from a rope only a few inches away.

call me a wimp and you will be a wreck
you stupid lad who tells tales out of school
just say the word i'll break your ******* neck

you seemed to think that nobody would check
the things you said that everything was cool
call me a wimp and you will be a wreck

you'll be destroyed naught left no single speck
and all they'll note is you were one more tool
just say the word i'll break your ******* neck

don't think i won't don't think i give a heck
for who you are or all the lies you drool
call me a wimp and you will be a wreck

so now you're silent now you hit the deck
full up with fear you've figured out the rule
just say the word i'll break your ******* neck

you have to understand that not a fleck
of pity will you get since you're the fool
call me a wimp and you will be a wreck
just say the word i'll break your ******* neck

Bonjour, hello to this French revolution, where people fought against the corrupted monarchy and created a new constitution. Hunger, no rights and no respect, they could not seem to solve it peacefully, so they cut off Louis the XVI neck. Marie Antoinette was a heartless greedy *****, she stole the people's food, so now she deserves some punishment, this is a historical moment for these people which they would soon cement. They started the Reign of Terror, which some may say was a costly and unnecessary error. Millions of people were killed and most were wrongly accused, their used to be equality, liberty, and fraternity, but all people saw was death, which is something not to be amused. The French Revolution where the third class fought the monarchy, so everyone could have true equality, liberty, and fraternity. Then came a guy named Napoléon who changed their wicked ways, he founded new ideas which created the future you see today. I know he wasn't exactly the best, he crowned himself the emperor, which no one had a say on, he pretended to respect the church and have meritocracy but really he was just a con, deceiving people as if they were just a couple of pawns. Napoléon is a wimp, he cost millions of lives, he also abandoned his armies multiple times, he may be one of the, greatest strategist's in the world, but really he's just a waste of time. Napoléon should have figured out not to attack Russia at winter time, it never worked out before so why would it work this time. He may be a symbol of France and the greatest self proclaimed emperor, but he died because of his pride just like Maximillian Robespierre. That was the end of the French Revolution, they slowly lost their power but they still hold onto their republican constitution. So aurevoir for now, bon voyage to you grande revolution, till your next controversial decisions and solutions.

HI DUDES AND WELCOME TO THE MOON, HERE IS MY FIRST SONG


WE DON’T NEED NO EDUCAYION, OR WE DON’T NEED KNOW DISCIPLINE

OR WE NEVER NEED PEOPLE TELLING YOU WHAT TO DO

NO, WE NEVER NEED OH NOSEREE

BUT I GOT UP, AND SANG THIS SONG SO LOUD

YEAH OH YEAH BOW BOW

ALL THE PROBLEMS IN THE SCHOOL YARD, WE NEVER NEED THUAT, NO

YOU SEE STRONG KIDS PICKING ON THE WEAK AND VONERABLE

AND FORCING THE WEAK AND VONERABLE TO BE LIKE THEM

JUST BECAUSE THEY ARE JEALOUS OF THEM

WE NEVER NEED ANY DISCIPLINE, DUDE, NEVER, NEVER, NEVER, DUDE

BUT WE NEED TO GET RID OF SCHOOL SHOOTINGS YEAH

TOO MANY DUDES ARE GETTING SHOT YEAH

WE NEED TO STOP- THAT, ONCE AND FOR ALL

BECAUSE KIDS ARE INNOCENT, REALLY INNOCENT

THEY DON’T DESERVE TO BE KILLED

YOU CAN’T REFORM THESE SCHOOL SHOOTERS, OH NO

YOU CAN’T REFORM OH NOSEREE, YOU CAN NEVER REFORM THEM NO

SO THE DISCIPLINE, IS MIGHTY BIG IN SCHOOLS

WE NEED TO MAKE KIDS UNDERSTAND, THAT THIS KIND OF DISCIPLINE IS TO PROTECT THEM

LIKE THE SOUND OF THE GUN, IS TO PROTECT PEOPLE, YEAH YOUR NOT READY

FOR THIS WORLD YET, SO GO TO YOUR NEXT WORLD

AND LOVE LIFE, OVER THERE

AND NOW HERE IS DUNCAN

I WOULD LOVR TO HAVE A BEER WITH DUNCAN

I WOULD LOVE TO HAVE A BEER WITH DUNC

WE DRINK IN MODERATION

AND WE NEVER NEVER NEVER EVER GET ROLLING DRUNK
\
WE DRINK IN THE TOWN AND COUNTRY

WHERE THE ATMOSPHERE IS GREAT

I WOULD LOVE TO HAVE A BEER WITH DUNCAN

CAUSE HE IS MY MATE

I HATE HEARING MY MATE, YEAH I HATE HEARING HIM YEAH

I HATE BEING TOLD THAT ME AND MY BRO AIN’T LIKE US

IN EVERY STRETCH OF THE IMAGINATION

I HATE MY MATE, TRYING TO GET ME TO BE A WILD COOL BOY, OH YEAH

I JUST WANT TO SIT IN MY CHAIR, AND DO MY ART AND WRITING AND GIVE FEEDBACK TO YOUTUBE YA SEE

I HATE HIM SAYING I AM LIKE HIM, HE IS A CRAZY ******* OH YEAH

HE SAYS WHEN I GO TO THE SPORT TRYING TO BE LIKE US ARE WE

I HAVE ALWAYS BEEN INTO SPORT OH YEAHJ

AND IF I SAY, I AM INTO THE ARTS, I MEAN I WATCH YOUTUBE WHILEST DOING MY TAPESTRY

I AM NOT A SHY PERSON, WHO DOES WHAT THE COOL KIDS USED TO DO

NO, I DO WHAT I WANNA DO, AND NOT WORRY ABOUT THE COOL KIDS ARE DOING

IF THEY SAY I AM SQUARE, THEY ARE JUST JEALOUS OF MY TALENT AND POWER

I DON[’T WHAT I FEEL, I DO WHAT I WANT, IF I FEEL LIKE I DON[’T WANNA DO IT

I WILL PUSH MYSELF, CAUSE MY SHY MAN IS COMING, BUT THAT IS DAD

TRYING TO EXPLAIN THAT I AM THE SHYPERSON, BUT I AM THE ARTIST WRITER AND YOUTUBE ENTERTAINER

A SHYPERSON IS A STUPID WORD, NO I AM A WRITER AND A ARTIST AND A YOUTUBE ENTERTAINER

THERE IS ONE VOICE BY PATRICK SAYING, BRIAN’S GETTING TEASED

BUT I AM NOT INTO TEASING, BULLYING, FIGHTING, NO NEVER FOR ME

I AM INTIO HAVING FUN, YA KNOW, I USED TO BE A LITTLE SHY BOY, OR A LITTLE YOUNG DUDE

WHO APPEARED TOO SHY TO GO TO BED, WELL, I AM STILL NOT GOING TO BED

AND YOU CAN SHOVE GO TE BED BABY GO TO BED BABY GO TO BED BABY GO TO BED BABY

GO TO BED BABY, YOU NEED YOUR SLEEP, YEAH, BETTER THAN SITTING ON YA CHAIR LIKE A MAN

GO TO BED BABY, YOU AREN’T LIKE US NO, I AM HAPPY SITTING THERE DOING MY ART, SITTING RIGHT HERE

YA SEE, I DON’T LOOK AT ME LEGS IN THAT WAY, THIS IS MY WAY OF GETTING REFORMED

I HATE GOING TO BED, SON, LEAVE ME ALONE, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

I WANT TO BE FAMOUS, SO I PRACTICE ON YOUTUBE, I WANT TO AN ARTIST, SO I DO MY TAPESTRIES SITTING ON THE COUCH

I DON’T WANT TO HEAR PAT’S VOICE, OH NO, OF HIM TREATING ME LIKE A LITTLE YEAH MATE YEAH KID, OH NO

I KNOW THE WORLD, WOULD LIKE WHAT I DO, I AM NO SHY PERSON, SO LEAVE ME ALONE

I LIKE PATRICK, BUT I HATE HIS VOICE IN MY HEAD TELLING ME TO GO TO BED, I AM

ONE PERSON WHO DOESN’T LIKE GOING TO BED, I FALL ASLEEP ON THE COUCH, BUDDY

AND I GO TO ATHENA EVERY NIGHT, SHE WORKS ON MY TEETH, AND IT’S MORE PAINFUL IN WAYS

BUT IT WORKS FOR ME, HE SAYS GO TO BED BABY, GO TO BED BABY, I KNOW I AM A BABY

TOO COOL TO GO TO BED, I LOVE COMPUTERS, THEY ARE THE NEXT GENERATION

PAT HATES COMPUTERS, I DON’T CARE, I LIKE COMPUTERS, CAUSE THEY ARE THE NEXT GENERATION

ME AND PATRICK ARE DIFFERENT, BRIAN LOVES COMPUTERS, PAT HATES COMPUTERS

BRIAN IS WILLING TO WRITE STUFF OUT OF HIM, PAT, IS HAPPY BEING A WATCHER

BRIAN WILL ALWAYS BE A DOER, WATCH AAA YOUTUBE TV, LOOK AT MY ART ON ART COLONY

WATCH AARON CLAYTON AND READ WRITER JOE’S STUFF ON WRITERS CAFE

YA SEE BRIAN IS ON THE COMPUTER’S INTERNET IN A BIG WAY

I HAVE MANY MATES ON FACEBOOK AND TWITTER, AND I DO GET VIEWS ON YOUTUBE

CAUSE I AM FAMOUS, NOW PAT, I STILL LIKE YOU, PATRICK, BUT I CAN’T SHARE MY VIEWS ON COMPUTERS

IT’S EASY TO WRITE STUFF OUT OF YA, I AM NOT TOO WOOSEY FOR THAT

I NEED TO DO THIS, SO I DON’T LOOK AT KIDS LEGS, SO KIDS DON’T FEEL INSECURE.I LIKE KIDS I LIKE KIDS

I CAN WRITE STORIES, IT’S NOT TOO HARD, I AM ON THE MOON SAYING

I WISH I HAD A MONEY TREE, FROM THE INTERNET, AND GO TO THE COMPUTER AND TEAR SOME MONEY

OFF THE INTERNET, TO MY BANK ACCOUNT, THAT’LL BE SO COOL

PATRICK IS TREATING ME LIKE A SHY BOY, I HATED PEOPLE SAYING, I AM TOO SHY TO BE LIKEB THEM

I AM TOO COOL TO BE LIKE THEM

I AM A WRITER

I AM AN ARTIST

I AM A YOUTUBE, PARTNER, PERFORMER, AND AN ENTERTAINER

I AM BETTER THAN THE PEOPLE IN MY VOICES
\
I HATE BEING LABELLED A RICH **** OR A **** IN EVERY SHAPE OR FORM

ALL BECAUSE I AM ON THE COPMUTER BIG TIME

HERE IS A SONG

GABBA GABBA GABBA GABBA GABBA GABBA GABBA

SAID THE MONKEY\ TO THE CHIMP

GABBA GABBA GABBA GABBA GABBA GABBA GABBA

SAID THE CHIMP BACK TO THE MONKEY

GABBA GABBA GABBA GABBA GABBA GABBA GABBA

SAID THE MONKEY TO THE CHIMP

AND THE MONKEY SAID TO THE CHIMP

MATE, YOU ARE A WIMP

AND THE MONKEY SAID TO THE CHIMP

MATEM YOU ARE A WIMP

YA SEE PATRICK DOESN’T WANT TO HASSLE ME FOR WHAT I SAY

HE LIKES ME, FOR I AM COOL

I DON’T WANT TO WHAT I USED TO DO, I DO WHAT I WANNA DO

I DON’T WANT PEOPLE MUCKING WITH ME LIKE THEY USED TO MUCK WITH ME

CAUSE I AM A FAMILY PERSON, BUDDY

I HATE MY VOICES OF PAT IN MY HEAD SAYING, ONLY FAMILY PEOPLE DO THIS OB BRIAN

I SAY, YEAH I AM A FAMILY PERSON, THEM PAT SAYS I AM NOT YA DADDY

AND THEN SAYS GO TO BED, BABY, I SAID, NEH, MY BED IS MY CHAIR

AND MY CHAIR IS WHERE I SIT AND DO ART

SO, STOP TREATING ME LIKE AN OLD BIDDY, I AM A CREATIVE YOUNG DUDE

I AM NOT FUCKEN SHY, BUDDY OLE BOY OLE PAL

HI DUDES AND WELCOME TO THE MOON, HERE IS MY FIRST SONG


WE DON’T NEED NO EDUCAYION, OR WE DON’T NEED KNOW DISCIPLINE

OR WE NEVER NEED PEOPLE TELLING YOU WHAT TO DO

NO, WE NEVER NEED OH NOSEREE

BUT I GOT UP, AND SANG THIS SONG SO LOUD

YEAH OH YEAH BOW BOW

ALL THE PROBLEMS IN THE SCHOOL YARD, WE NEVER NEED THUAT, NO

YOU SEE STRONG KIDS PICKING ON THE WEAK AND VONERABLE

AND FORCING THE WEAK AND VONERABLE TO BE LIKE THEM

JUST BECAUSE THEY ARE JEALOUS OF THEM

WE NEVER NEED ANY DISCIPLINE, DUDE, NEVER, NEVER, NEVER, DUDE

BUT WE NEED TO GET RID OF SCHOOL SHOOTINGS YEAH

TOO MANY DUDES ARE GETTING SHOT YEAH

WE NEED TO STOP- THAT, ONCE AND FOR ALL

BECAUSE KIDS ARE INNOCENT, REALLY INNOCENT

THEY DON’T DESERVE TO BE KILLED

YOU CAN’T REFORM THESE SCHOOL SHOOTERS, OH NO

YOU CAN’T REFORM OH NOSEREE, YOU CAN NEVER REFORM THEM NO

SO THE DISCIPLINE, IS MIGHTY BIG IN SCHOOLS

WE NEED TO MAKE KIDS UNDERSTAND, THAT THIS KIND OF DISCIPLINE IS TO PROTECT THEM

LIKE THE SOUND OF THE GUN, IS TO PROTECT PEOPLE, YEAH YOUR NOT READY

FOR THIS WORLD YET, SO GO TO YOUR NEXT WORLD

AND LOVE LIFE, OVER THERE

AND NOW HERE IS DUNCAN

I WOULD LOVR TO HAVE A BEER WITH DUNCAN

I WOULD LOVE TO HAVE A BEER WITH DUNC

WE DRINK IN MODERATION

AND WE NEVER NEVER NEVER EVER GET ROLLING DRUNK
\
WE DRINK IN THE TOWN AND COUNTRY

WHERE THE ATMOSPHERE IS GREAT

I WOULD LOVE TO HAVE A BEER WITH DUNCAN

CAUSE HE IS MY MATE

I HATE HEARING MY MATE, YEAH I HATE HEARING HIM YEAH

I HATE BEING TOLD THAT ME AND MY BRO AIN’T LIKE US

IN EVERY STRETCH OF THE IMAGINATION

I HATE MY MATE, TRYING TO GET ME TO BE A WILD COOL BOY, OH YEAH

I JUST WANT TO SIT IN MY CHAIR, AND DO MY ART AND WRITING AND GIVE FEEDBACK TO YOUTUBE YA SEE

I HATE HIM SAYING I AM LIKE HIM, HE IS A CRAZY ******* OH YEAH

HE SAYS WHEN I GO TO THE SPORT TRYING TO BE LIKE US ARE WE

I HAVE ALWAYS BEEN INTO SPORT OH YEAHJ

AND IF I SAY, I AM INTO THE ARTS, I MEAN I WATCH YOUTUBE WHILEST DOING MY TAPESTRY

I AM NOT A SHY PERSON, WHO DOES WHAT THE COOL KIDS USED TO DO

NO, I DO WHAT I WANNA DO, AND NOT WORRY ABOUT THE COOL KIDS ARE DOING

IF THEY SAY I AM SQUARE, THEY ARE JUST JEALOUS OF MY TALENT AND POWER

I DON[’T WHAT I FEEL, I DO WHAT I WANT, IF I FEEL LIKE I DON[’T WANNA DO IT

I WILL PUSH MYSELF, CAUSE MY SHY MAN IS COMING, BUT THAT IS DAD

TRYING TO EXPLAIN THAT I AM THE SHYPERSON, BUT I AM THE ARTIST WRITER AND YOUTUBE ENTERTAINER

A SHYPERSON IS A STUPID WORD, NO I AM A WRITER AND A ARTIST AND A YOUTUBE ENTERTAINER

THERE IS ONE VOICE BY PATRICK SAYING, BRIAN’S GETTING TEASED

BUT I AM NOT INTO TEASING, BULLYING, FIGHTING, NO NEVER FOR ME

I AM INTIO HAVING FUN, YA KNOW, I USED TO BE A LITTLE SHY BOY, OR A LITTLE YOUNG DUDE

WHO APPEARED TOO SHY TO GO TO BED, WELL, I AM STILL NOT GOING TO BED

AND YOU CAN SHOVE GO TE BED BABY GO TO BED BABY GO TO BED BABY GO TO BED BABY

GO TO BED BABY, YOU NEED YOUR SLEEP, YEAH, BETTER THAN SITTING ON YA CHAIR LIKE A MAN

GO TO BED BABY, YOU AREN’T LIKE US NO, I AM HAPPY SITTING THERE DOING MY ART, SITTING RIGHT HERE

YA SEE, I DON’T LOOK AT ME LEGS IN THAT WAY, THIS IS MY WAY OF GETTING REFORMED

I HATE GOING TO BED, SON, LEAVE ME ALONE, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

I WANT TO BE FAMOUS, SO I PRACTICE ON YOUTUBE, I WANT TO AN ARTIST, SO I DO MY TAPESTRIES SITTING ON THE COUCH

I DON’T WANT TO HEAR PAT’S VOICE, OH NO, OF HIM TREATING ME LIKE A LITTLE YEAH MATE YEAH KID, OH NO

I KNOW THE WORLD, WOULD LIKE WHAT I DO, I AM NO SHY PERSON, SO LEAVE ME ALONE

I LIKE PATRICK, BUT I HATE HIS VOICE IN MY HEAD TELLING ME TO GO TO BED, I AM

ONE PERSON WHO DOESN’T LIKE GOING TO BED, I FALL ASLEEP ON THE COUCH, BUDDY

AND I GO TO ATHENA EVERY NIGHT, SHE WORKS ON MY TEETH, AND IT’S MORE PAINFUL IN WAYS

BUT IT WORKS FOR ME, HE SAYS GO TO BED BABY, GO TO BED BABY, I KNOW I AM A BABY

TOO COOL TO GO TO BED, I LOVE COMPUTERS, THEY ARE THE NEXT GENERATION

PAT HATES COMPUTERS, I DON’T CARE, I LIKE COMPUTERS, CAUSE THEY ARE THE NEXT GENERATION

ME AND PATRICK ARE DIFFERENT, BRIAN LOVES COMPUTERS, PAT HATES COMPUTERS

BRIAN IS WILLING TO WRITE STUFF OUT OF HIM, PAT, IS HAPPY BEING A WATCHER

BRIAN WILL ALWAYS BE A DOER, WATCH AAA YOUTUBE TV, LOOK AT MY ART ON ART COLONY

WATCH AARON CLAYTON AND READ WRITER JOE’S STUFF ON WRITERS CAFE

YA SEE BRIAN IS ON THE COMPUTER’S INTERNET IN A BIG WAY

I HAVE MANY MATES ON FACEBOOK AND TWITTER, AND I DO GET VIEWS ON YOUTUBE

CAUSE I AM FAMOUS, NOW PAT, I STILL LIKE YOU, PATRICK, BUT I CAN’T SHARE MY VIEWS ON COMPUTERS

IT’S EASY TO WRITE STUFF OUT OF YA, I AM NOT TOO WOOSEY FOR THAT

I NEED TO DO THIS, SO I DON’T LOOK AT KIDS LEGS, SO KIDS DON’T FEEL INSECURE.I LIKE KIDS I LIKE KIDS

I CAN WRITE STORIES, IT’S NOT TOO HARD, I AM ON THE MOON SAYING

I WISH I HAD A MONEY TREE, FROM THE INTERNET, AND GO TO THE COMPUTER AND TEAR SOME MONEY

OFF THE INTERNET, TO MY BANK ACCOUNT, THAT’LL BE SO COOL

PATRICK IS TREATING ME LIKE A SHY BOY, I HATED PEOPLE SAYING, I AM TOO SHY TO BE LIKEB THEM

I AM TOO COOL TO BE LIKE THEM

I AM A WRITER

I AM AN ARTIST

I AM A YOUTUBE, PARTNER, PERFORMER, AND AN ENTERTAINER

I AM BETTER THAN THE PEOPLE IN MY VOICES
\
I HATE BEING LABELLED A RICH **** OR A **** IN EVERY SHAPE OR FORM

ALL BECAUSE I AM ON THE COPMUTER BIG TIME

HERE IS A SONG

GABBA GABBA GABBA GABBA GABBA GABBA GABBA

SAID THE MONKEY\ TO THE CHIMP

GABBA GABBA GABBA GABBA GABBA GABBA GABBA

SAID THE CHIMP BACK TO THE MONKEY

GABBA GABBA GABBA GABBA GABBA GABBA GABBA

SAID THE MONKEY TO THE CHIMP

AND THE MONKEY SAID TO THE CHIMP

MATE, YOU ARE A WIMP

AND THE MONKEY SAID TO THE CHIMP

MATEM YOU ARE A WIMP

YA SEE PATRICK DOESN’T WANT TO HASSLE ME FOR WHAT I SAY

HE LIKES ME, FOR I AM COOL

I DON’T WANT TO WHAT I USED TO DO, I DO WHAT I WANNA DO

I DON’T WANT PEOPLE MUCKING WITH ME LIKE THEY USED TO MUCK WITH ME

CAUSE I AM A FAMILY PERSON, BUDDY

I HATE MY VOICES OF PAT IN MY HEAD SAYING, ONLY FAMILY PEOPLE DO THIS OB BRIAN

I SAY, YEAH I AM A FAMILY PERSON, THEM PAT SAYS I AM NOT YA DADDY

AND THEN SAYS GO TO BED, BABY, I SAID, NEH, MY BED IS MY CHAIR

AND MY CHAIR IS WHERE I SIT AND DO ART

SO, STOP TREATING ME LIKE AN OLD BIDDY, I AM A CREATIVE YOUNG DUDE

I AM NOT FUCKEN SHY, BUDDY OLE BOY OLE PAL

. i'm not against psychedelics... ****... syringe in excesses of LSD... but memory is also a psychedelic drug... albeit there is no excess of colors, and it's not b & w, but sepia tinged... i like the notion of a sepia curtain... maybe that's why i have my head ******* on so tight, and a hardened heart, to be able to write this... while others write, having drunk as much as i have, like kindergarten 5 year old, children!

i'm not here for the 80+ years that don't matter,
lying lethargic, semi-conscious,
demented, in a care home bed
where i'm abused for ******* my nappies...
i'm here...
   for the 16 or so years that really matter...
hence?
   i like to watch the metamorphosis of skin...
i never understood women who
cut and wait for some"magical" revelation
of internalized pain...
   those four stumps worth of knuckles
upon which i exhausted the amber of
a cigarette burning?
   second look?
      nice to see the many layers of skins,
prior to, and not including the bone...
     liver damage, whatever, bring it on...
i'm waiting...
  i can't, but i'm hoping...
to sow unto my skin the faint tincture
of a gangrene tattoo to
boast ink in Frankenstein green...
mingling with tongue numbing
yuck of bruise plum, and a dash of
Vishnu blue...
       oh i'm waiting: i can't wait...
   death is such a farce:
like i explained to my mother...
  you know... sometimes you're after
the pain: since you've reprogrammed
yourself, to enjoy it...
                  no, no *****-whipping
wimp diarrhea -
   i want the "furry" liver...
              i'm waiting, and i'm waiting...
and...
            nose-bleeds are past my worries...
i've had one in school, during
english class...
    no problem...
  can you believe it?
my neighbor's cat, Bella,
an albino climbed roofs, climbed into
chimneys...
   was knocked by a car,
presumably...
               and is in need of an operation,
might have one of her hind legs
amputated...
but she's also anemic...
so she might die during the operation...
poor ******, she...
                    heterochromic to boot...
      the sort of beast, which,
if being a Saudi Sheikh...
you'd love to put an Afghani burqa
over...
            Fonz... eeeeeeeeeee...
why bother with a counter argument?
the European variant of the niqab is
already in place...
sorry... the women you see in movies
or *****? ever see the same quality
shopping for underwear?
      not once...
                 it's such a sad little world
out there, jealous men...
who can't afford keeping
            castrato men for their, "harems",
and, evidently, don't poke enough
****** to keep the concubines entertained,
whole strap-on ******?
well... they're just strap-on ******...
ha ha!
                  ha ha ha ha!
        oh sure, i'm a loser, honey bee...
point being: i much prefer the company
of whiskey to that of a woman...
oops... did i say something, sheepish,
i.e. b'aah b'aah b'aad?!
   couldn't figure out the stuttering A
in diacritical markings...
since there isn't one...

   as i asked my Jewish convert into Islam...
i don't mind the Quran...
but what's your opinion on the, Hadith?
no answer... dumb look...
akin to: how do you know about that?
it's my eight's in a row right
to know what i consider, hostile.

         well, given that in Hindu...
the H... is a surd, rather than an authentic letter...
e.g.? dhaal...           that veggie
curry made from lentils?
there's no H in the name...
it's not a letter... it's an orthographic
inclusion of: consonant (d), surd (h)
                      vowel(s) (a, a), consonant (L)...
unless you of course deduce
there being a microcosm of the macron
hovering about one of the A,
deducing the other A is not necessary...
i drink...
because my excuse rests on the argument:
i'm not here for the 80+ years,
a life filled with an exhausted memory
bank,
    that is of no use
when it doesn't allow itself an
immediacy of convergence in
    what bicycles are founded upon:
teeth and chain, overlapping...
immediacy of overlapping -
memory... that alternative to psychedelic drugs...
some people take this over-bountiful
drugs to exemplify colors,
hyper-inflate them...
i just remember,
   and i know what memory is,
compared to the educational rubric
of, say, learning the Pythagorean equation,
how modern schooling is...
primarily?
   a memory erosion tool,
of a personal life, but more esp.,
  a childhood...
                  you want a drug more
potent than the Amsterdam legal mushroom?
RE-MEM-BER.
               like i said:
i can do what others won't do in
80 years... i can be content with
the zenith of doing what i do,
within a space of what excess drinking
allows me...
      the rest?
   either nostalgia... or regret;
i don't have the time preference to entertain
either...
esp. if what awaits me is
a sober case of dementia,
   and bedsores (odleżyny)...
             but sure, **** me,
go for it!
                   i pray to god that i managed
to fulfill my "evil genius" plan,
of drinking myself to death...
**** it... i have to match the sensible
life expectancy of the poorest of
the poorest African nations...
    don't really feel like living up
to the European turtle, neck,
demands for glorifying medicinal advancements.

As Lewis walked up to the door, it strangely felt like he had been here before. But he hadn't. She had moved here three years ago, and he never saw the place. It smelled like Nina's home alright, though. The faint whiff of hydrangeas, of roses, and of other flowers caught he keen nose, and he breathed in deeply and smiled reassuringly to himself. The he became serious, as if he had no right to smile.

Was this the right thing to do? He hoped so. Time would tell. It felt as if it was almost yesterday, instead of six years ago, as he knocked on her door.

After a few knocks, a minute or two, Nina opened the door to her house. Someone had to be home, for there was a car in the driveway. As she looked upon him, Lewis expected her to slam the door shut in his face, but she also acted as if she had just seen him yesterday. And it seemed like no big deal to her.

Without much emotion on her face, she left the screen door shut, but she kept the inner door open. Walking away, it was like she expected him to follower her non-verbal lead. He did, hesitantly.

In the kitchen, Nina poured him a cup of coffee. "You hungry?" she asked him. "I am about to put some cinnamon roles into the oven. I'm going to open up a can from the fridge."


"Oh?" Lewis responded, trying to be nonchalant, trying to hid the nervousness in his voice. "Not from scratch?" His heart was practically beating out of his chest.

Nina's back was towards him. She was finishing some dishes in the sink. "Yeah, I know I was always Betty Crocker. But I'be learned to make short cuts, and it tastes just fine. Makes life easier to not do everything like Grandma did it."  

After she separated the rolls apart, and stuck them into the oven, she just kept going about her business. She started to open some mail and sorted the items into piles of importance and priority, and into a pile that could wait.

Lewis was shocked. He couldn't believe her composure. After a while, she turned around, leaned against the counter top, and she acted like she didn't have a care in the world. She didn't look one bit stressed, angry, sad, shocked, disgusted--or anything.

Finally, Lewis said, "Nina, I don't get it." He felt itchy, and tense, as if he could scratch his skin off, as if he was waiting for a bomb to drop. "Why aren't you telling me to get the hell out of her...to go ***** off...or call me every name in the book."

Nina just looked him up and down. He began to chuckle, nervously. "Come on, Nina! I am surprised you just don't grab that pan of hot rolls in the oven, and whack me in the head with them!"

In response, Nina still said nothing, acting as if nothing ever happened.

Becoming quite unsettled with her unexpected composure, he went on. "I mean...come on..scream at me. Cuss me out! Slap me! Punch me! Something, for God's sake!"

Nina raised an eyebrow, and tried to resist smiling. She was waiting patiently for him to explain himself, not to go on like this. "Is that what you want, Lewis? Is that why you came her? To beat you into oblivion with a pan of hot cinnamon rolls?" She didn't try to make him look foolish--he was doing a good job of that on his own.

Lewis turned red in embarrassment, and started to smirk. "Well...yeah...would make more sense to me."

The timer went off and the rolls were done. Putting her oven mitts on, Nina pulled them out of the oven and let them cool on top of the counter. The silence was eerie, awkward.

She poured him another cup of coffee, and finally addressed the elephant in the room. As he still looked up at her, dumbfounded by her, she said, "Lewis...if you have the ***** to come here...than I can certainly let you in and hear you out."

With that said, she filled a plate full of rolls, places them in the center of the table, pulled out a chair and sat down across from him at the table. "I'm listening", she said, her expressions still low-key. Yet Lewis thought that her eyes and mouth seemed ready to mock him, positioned to put him in his place. His guilt wouldn't allow him to think, otherwise.

Why would she serve him food and coffee? Why not just get it all into the open and demand that he spill his guts?

Lewis didn't want to beat around the bush any longer, but spoke plainly in his confession. "Nina, what can I say? I'm an ***." She didn't nod her head in agreement, nor say that he sure was an ***, yet a "look of  suspicion was growing upon her face.

"OK, OK", he went on. "I should never have left you--of all days! What a frickin' wimp! I should have manned-up and told you I wasn't ready to get married. Instead, I stood you up at the church...of all places...in front of your family...your friends. A complete no-show--I made a mockery of that day! It was supposed to be one of the best...and I made it the worst! Some in my family haven't really gotten past it or have forgiven me. Not fully. A few barely talk to me. My best friend, Steve, thinks I'm a *****--a dumb fool!"

Nina sighed with relief. This was what she wanted to hear. The tears started flowing.

Lewis told her, "So I just don't get it. I don't get why you are not furious with me! It just blows my mind!"

Lewis grabbed for another cinnamon role, and Nina handed him a napkin. She wasn't crying anymore, and he was glad. Why was she being so nice though? So hospitable? Did she have something up her sleeve? Did she mean to get back at him? Maybe poison in one of his roles? Lewis had to laugh at himself. Actually, that might alleviate some of his guilt right now.  

Picking at her role, Nina explained, first more sharply. Then she was soft in speech. "It's not all about you, ya know! Look, Lewis, don't think that for a moment that just because it is more OK now that it was OK back then! Well...I guess you already realize this. You see, I'm different now...changed...grown a lot since. I did a lot of soul searching, lots of growing."

"I can see that. It's wonderful."

"And I wondered what I did wrong...at first. Then I hated you, blamed you. I wished that I never said I would marry you. I did plenty of screaming at you--plenty. I bring things in a rage--mirrors, a clock, a dish or two--bruised my fists up pounding things."

She paused and continued, all the time looking at the intricate, lace doily on the center of the table, under a vase of fresh daisies. Finally, Lewis saw the gamut of emotions. In one moment, her face would pinch in frustration and anger. It would then evolve into a soft sadness, and other emotions within.

"Wasn't so composed about you back then, Lewis. Let's see...I swore at you. I wished you were dead. I ripped up every picture of you...put some in the shredder, wishing they were you, instead..prayed that you would die. Bitterness isn't event he word for it. I thought you were the worst thing that happened to me, that you ruined my life forever. I cursed you up and down, Lewis. I'm sure I even invented some new curse words."

That was enough said. She looked up at him and slightly smiled. Lewis smiled back, for at least she felt real to him now, quite natural. She admitted, But I think I cried far more than I hated you. I still loved you."

Lewis wanted to sit right next to her and hold her. "Oh, baby...I'm so sorry..."

Nina quickly interjected. "Honey, you weren't ready for marriage. We were both young, only in our mid twenties...we thought we had it so together. It took me a while, but I finally realized that you needed to find out who you really were, came to that conclusion for a while now. And, boy, did I need to get to know myself more, too!"

"No!", he insisted, emphatically. "Don't make excuses for me! I did not do right by you!"

Nina reached across the table and put her hand upon his. "It seemed like hell at the time, but I needed to learn about me, too! Crazy as it sounds....if it did not happen...I never would have..."

She stopped short. Lewis had tears in his eyes, and one began to roll down his cheek. "Met Gary", he said, finishing her sentence for her.

Surprise flashed across her face. "You did your homework!" Nina stated. She was quite impressed and smiled.

"I wanted to know what happened to you", Lewis responded. "You probably wonder why I didn't walk away for good. I intended to....but you deserve some answers, and I'm here to give them to you. Sure, I could have walked away, and stayed away. I could have saved myself the embarrassment of facing you, again. I could have pretended to have some dignity left."

"But you do have some dignity left", she insisted, sweetly. "It takes a lot of courage to do this. I'm glad you did."

"Are you happy now? I mean...I hope you are."

"Very."

Lewis didn't even have to ask. He could already tell. They sat in silence for a moment. Nina finally said, excitedly, "Gary's a great guy! We both love art. We both love nature, the outdoors, to travel.  He loves other cultures, and learning other things--like languages." Her face was beaming with pride. "Gary is trying to learn Portuguese and brush up on his Spanish. This year ,we are planning a trip to Portugal and Spain!"

Nina always did keep a nice home, and she decorated it with art that was acquired from different places. Where Lewis didn't have a sense of what looked good, she had a good sense of style. When they were both together, the talked of going to different places that they never traveled to--Africa, Asia, Australia--backpacking across Europe. They were big dreams.

Nina did not want Lewis to feel punished, but his agonizing expression of remorse would have been punishment enough. It already was for him, and it showed his sincerity.

"You know how I met Gary?"

Lewis shook his head. "A support group for divorced people! she admitted, gleefully, as if that was the most amazing thing to say.

Lewis looked embarrassed. Perhaps, he misunderstood her.  "What? For divorced people? You were never married before Gary, were you?"

Perhaps, there was something she wasn't telling him. Nina burst out laughing, seeming so carefree as she threw her head back and clapped her hands. Her laughter was beautifully contagious, and Lewis loved to hear it. "No, of course not!" she said. I have no secret past before I met you...or even now. It's just that a divorce support group was the closest support I could get. After all, there are no support groups for jilted brides and grooms!" She laughed even more.

They were talking so easily now, getting along so well. But why? It still seemed so surreal. Lewis laughed along with  her, as if this was just an encounter  to revisit the good, old times. When hearing of Gary, Lewis felt the pain of his loss, as well as some jealousy rise up. As if he had the right!  

He truly was an ***! He never deserved her!

Nina soon became serious, again. "So did you just come here to say you were sorry?" She was thinking he wanted something else from her, something else to say.

Lewis was once poised to take off in a real hurry. Now, he felt more at home. "Yeah...I came to say I was sorry to you...hoping to stop feeling sorry for myself... I guess. I'm wishing I could just turn back the clock. I swear I'd do it all again, differently."

"But the past cannot be change, and we both know it", Nina stated, resolutely.

He nodded in agreement. She didn't burst his bubble, for to think otherwise was a childish, fantasy.

"I don't know what else to say, Lewis". Nina's eyes reflected sorrow, not pity. "Life does really go on...if we let it. We have to let it, though." She now turned the conversation onto him. " So how about you? I hope you have some good news to tell me, something in your life."

He shrugged his shoulders. "I've had a few, short relationships", he admitted. Where there any displeasing looks on her face? Lewis didn't notice anything, now. "Not all that bad, I should say. But I just don't want to settle down until I finish my Masters in business. I'm nearly done."

"Good for you! That is great news!" Nina truly was glad for him, and it just showed him what a great woman she was. But then Lewis already knew this.

"Are you still teaching?" he asked, hoping she was, for she strove for the job, and loved it so much.

"Yes, I teach kindergarten, and Gary teaches science at Darland College."

"Well, what do you know? Both teachers. That sounds like a perfect match for you. And what about kids? None yet?"

"In time...sure. We just aren't ready right now."

She offered him more coffee, but Lewis declined. He was thinking he should go soon.  He said. "You know we used to talk about having a boy and a girl--and in that order, too!"

Nina rolled her eyes. "Yeah, boy oh boy. Like we had complete control over it".

They both laughed. It was fine to reminisce, and they did for a while, Lewis realizing that this would be the last time. He lived three hours away. And why should he come back? He did what he set out to do.

Nina would tell Gary about the visit after he came home from work. As husband and wife, there were not secrets between them. Nina was sure he would be surprised,f or his ex-wife never came to apologize for the pain she caused him.

"Gary's wife had an affair on him, and then left to marry that man", Nina revealed. "Thank God there were no children from that marriage."

"Wow, that is ******! Thank God I never did that to you!. I would have never cheated with another woman...or I might never have tried to face you. It would be easier to slink back into the ditch and stay there! This is hard enough as it is!"

"Maybe so, Lewis. Maybe so." Nina quickly added, "You aren't a bad man. I know this and I wholeheartedly mean this, so don't keep beating up on yourself. I've forgiven you for everything. I forgave you then, and I forgive you now. "

"Nina, that means everything to me!" He started to choke up, and more tears came.

Listen, Lewis. You need to forgive you, too."

He lowered his gaze, as Nina held his hand and gave it a squeeze. Never was Lewis so contrite before. Like many men, he never was overly emotional, and so this different side of him was a refreshing experience.

"Yeah,  it's time to move on", he stated, using a napkin as a tissue.

"Yes, it is. And I loved what you did. It was helpful for us both. It's the closure we need."

"Yep", he said, wiping away more tears.

"You are a guy with guts, Lewis. you do have courage, and more integrity than you think, and I hope you see it."

Nina offered him more coffee, and he accepted. Why couldn't they chat a little while longer? It was no harm, and it made the visit even more meaningful. Sitting and shooting the breeze more was not a bad thing.

The kitchen still held the fragrant smell of cinnamon, as they polished off more rolls and spoke more of good times.

Stand up and fight,
you coward,
you wimp.
Will you let them beat you,
as you lay there limp.
Or will you just wait until it is over,
and then pray for a four leaf clover.
Your luck has run out,
but that is only your fault,
you only lay and pout,
and take the assault.
You do not deserve the dreams you have,
when all the effort you put in, is only half,
So stand up and fight,
you coward,
you wimp,
for if you fail now,
you will never survive,
if you do not take that dive.

The ballad of a drunken yobho


You see he will go to the club, to watch the match
And he'll start to cheer with te guys
He will make the blokes who support the other team angry
But as long as his team wins, it's ok
And then suddenly from out of the blue
Their team comes back with two great goals, to get it within 3
And he said, we are still in front
And,mate, we have only 2 minutes to go, ya wamker
And suddenly a fight broke out, ***** v *****
And suddenly their wives entered having a girls night down the pub
And I pulled out and they called me a wimp
But I wanted to have good *** and also
Concentrate on keeping a tag on my team
And they still caled me a wimp and suddenly from
Out of the blue, his team won, and I wondered why
And I blamed the referee for a push in the back
But it wasn't, so I pushed my friend in the back
And he went head over turkey into the girls night out
And my girl yelled and I said, sorry, but he was beginning to buy me
He hates our team and he is the reason for them losing
He fixed the game, love he fixes games
That's what he does, he really doesn't but
I wanted calming down *** tonight, so I don't care
And If that makes me a yobho
I am a ***** and I am proud of it

Back when I was about ten or eleven, the only friend I had was the most beautiful girl I knew. Her name was Jessica and her and I did everything together. In school we were inseparable, always chit-chatting before, during and after classes. So much so that teachers bestowed upon us the annoying, yet endearing, encompassing nickname of "Jackica" - a combination of our names; Jack and Jessica. I was so thankful for her companionship, and thinking back it might have been a pretty uneven relationship, emotionally. I was an overweight and awkward Harry Potter fanboy and she was a cute little auburn-haired thing who could've won any Miss America Junior competition in the world, as far as I was concerned. She had the most piercing powder blue eyes. The kind that made my skin tingle and mouth curl up into a stupid smile at any given moment. I felt like she saw me, like she really saw ME. Not the blubbery flesh that coated my muscle and bones but what I was made of, the real me. And I loved her for that. Along with Jessica's physical blessings, she was also given an insatiable appetite for adventure. She loved to go to the park at night, after the gates were locked and when everything was drenched in darkness. We'd hop the five foot chain-link fence and roam around the grounds. We'd go the water at the edge of the park and sit on the rocks, look up at the stars and take turns telling stories to each other with intent to scare the **** out of the other one. One humid night in mid-June, Jessica told a story that succeeded in making my skin-crawl. She always told decent scary stories, she was gifted in the art of fabricating tales of fright right on the spot, but this story really got to my core for some reason. I just felt uneasy as the words spilled from her mouth to my ears and with each sentence my muscles tightened and strained just from the mere tone of her voice as she told the story. She sounded serious, and she rarely did, even when telling these stories, but with this particular one it sounded like she really believed what she was saying was cold, hard truth. What she said was that she heard a story that her older brother's girlfriend had told her. It was about a house on the outskirts of town, placed just a few hundred yards from the mouth of the woods that lined our little suburban utopia. She went on to say that in the house was nothing all that scary. She said it was an old house, a very old house, as it was a log cabin that was built in the 1700s, when the town was first being settled. Supposedly, everything in the house was just as it was back then, little kerosene lamps sitting on home-mad oak tables. The maple-wood floors would moan and creak at the slightest hint of any weight being put on them. And then she said that no one had lived in the house since the man who built it died, around 1785. Needless to say, Jessica wrapped up the story by proclaiming that we had to find the house. And we had to go inside and see for ourselves what was so creepy about it. Being the scared, chubby little wimp that I was, I immediately rejected the idea. There was no way I was going to try to find a place that would only succeed in making me **** my pants in front of a girl, especially the one whom I'd placed the delusional label of "future girlfriend" on. But, as I subconsciously expected, Jessica talked me into it with just a few graceful words: "I'll kiss you if you come with me." The very next Saturday night, Jessica and I put on some dark jeans and t-shirts and took the bus all the way to the last stop, the edge of town. We hopped off and right in front of the stop the woods were already waiting, I took a deep breath as Jessica's eyes lit up. She took my hand and pulled me as she ran, me clumsily waddling along behind her all the way to a little dirt pathway that paved the only marked entrance we could see. She asked me if I was ready and I shrugged, saying something like "I'm as ready as I'm ever going to be." And so we started down the path. As the tall trees swayed in the wind, I dragged my feet with Jessica always about five feet ahead of me, as eager as ever. We walked for probably ten or twenty minutes before the foot of the cabin was before us. At first sight, it was a very old structure. I'd never seen anything like it outside of paintings in my history textbook and this Abe Lincoln documentary I saw on PBS. I never knew houses like that stood the test of time. But there it was before me, two stories high with wooden shutters clad in severely chipped paint and a big oak door that looked stronger than any door I'd ever seen. Jessica took my hand again, smiled enchantingly and rushed me forward. Once at the door, I was speechless. It didn't look as old as the rest of the house and whoever made it obviously meant for it to last a very long time, taking extreme care in carving it out impeccably and sanding it until it shined with a professional touch. Without a word, Jessica rapped on the door. Three hard times, and when no one answered after thirty seconds, she rapped again, and again. She shrugged and turned to me, asked if we should just go in. I said no and she frowned. "There's no way we came this far just to go back home with nothing," and then she wrapped her hand around the rusted doorknob and turned. The door opened with no hesitation as she pushed it all the way in. She stepped inside, and I followed. The first thing I noticed inside the cabin was the creaking floors. They creaked louder and longer with each step, affirming that part of the story, making my blood run cold. We looked around, going from room to room with wide eyes. We were amazed that we made it, that we got inside and now we were actually investigating a place that no one else supposedly had gone before. Truth be told, though, it was nothing special. There wasn't much at all to see, save for a few tables, the creaking floors and some very old paintings on the wall. We were just leaving when we noticed something on a table nearest the big oak door. It was a metal box with a small lock fastened to the front of it. "We have to open it," Jessica proclaimed after a second of curious inspection. "There's no way were going to find the key," I told her. "So we'll break the lock, Jack. Duh," she replied in her sassiest tone. I just shook my head as she grabbed the box and began to furiously slam it in the wooden table. The sound echoed through the house, exacerbating it and making me shiver from head to toe. "I don't know if you should keep-" but my sentence was cut off my the lock flying off the box and clinking onto the floor below. Jessica smiled again, very pleased with herself and looked to me. "Wonder what's inside...," She said, lifting the top half of the box open. After an initial and cough-inducing puff of thick dust subsided, the contents of the box were revealed. It was a letter, written on old-school parchment in heavy ink. In neatly laid Victorian script, the likes of which I had never seen so simultaneously neat and scattered, like it was written in a hurry or during a time of distress, was a love letter. Well, a kind of love letter. It was addressed to a woman named Tania and it was signed by a William. It told the story of how William had loved Tania since they were children, and Tania was now to be married to a Pastor named Hensley. William told Tania how he couldn't bear the thought of her ever being with anyone else and that the fact that she could never truly be his was killing him. Literally. He ended the note by confessing his plan to **** himself. I took a step back, but Jessica just stood at the table with her eyes glued to the crumbling parchment in her hands. "I'm leaving," I said after a few moments, mulling over the sorrow that this poor man must've felt. I headed out the door, Jessica following. The walk back through the woods to the bus stop I couldn't get this feeling of dread from subsiding. It seemed like I felt what William felt, but not in a sympathetic sort of way. It felt like I was William and the pain he felt was actually my pain. And then I noticed that, rolled up tightly in her fist, Jessica had taken the letter with her. "Why'd you take that," I said, sounding thoroughly upset. "That's not yours to take, go bring it back!" "No way. There was no way I was going there and coming back with nothing to show for it," she said, gripping the letter tightly, her knuckles almost whitening. I knew how stubborn Jessica could be and I knew whatever I said probably wouldn't even phase her in the slightest so I did what I did best and just shrugged it off. I found myself wishing I could shrug off the terrible feeling the letter put deep inside me just as easily as I could Jessica's stubbornness. Over time, Jessica and I lost touch, as kids of that age often do. I grew up, lost weight and opened up, making more friends and acquaintances, no longer hanging onto the thought of Jessica being my only love. I didn't talk to Jessica all that much. Just once in a while we'd meet up and have a chat over some coffee or pizza. We had both changed and morphed into young adults with different agendas and dreams and I had no problem with that. But on one such meeting, Jessica began to worry me. She said that every now and then she'd open her desk drawer and take the piece of parchment out and read it. Over and over again. And lately, she had been opening the drawer more and more, she said that she felt drawn to it. Like something about it made her feel this deep-seated dread that no horror movie or scary story had ever made her feel. She said that she felt like the letter was beginning to take a toll on her. And, by the look of her, it didn't seem like she was lying or kidding around like she always used to love to do. She had dark circles underneath her once striking eyes, which were now darker and had taken on an odd and ominous color. I was scared for her. And I told her so but she hugged me and assured me she was alright. I wanted to believe her, and I tried to, hugging her back and telling her I'd talk to her soon. But when she turned her back I knew something was very wrong. I'm writing this now because a few weeks ago Jessica's mom gave me a call. When her number came up on my cell phone, I think I knew, deep down, e actor why I was getting this call but I pushed the thought away and said hello. Jessica's mother called to tell me that a few days before Jessica had gone missing. The only indication to her whereabouts was a note she left with the words "cabin at the edge of town", and below that, instructions on how to get there. Her mother said she took the note and hopped in her car immediately, and made it to the cabin. She said she was breathless by the time she got to the cabin but forged on and barged inside and looked around. She said she found nothing and was about to leave when she noticed a small door behind the big oak door she had swung open to get inside. She opened the little door to find a stairwell. She climbed it, calling Jessica's name all the way, sobbing and wiping tears from her eyes. At the top of the stairs was the attic. And she said she almost died herself when she saw Jessica. She was hanging from a wooden rafter on the ceiling. And next to her was a severely decayed skeleton, dangling from a rope only a few inches away.u

Ta-targaryen
Ta-ta-targaryen
Jonnnn the Targaryen                        
Cute but a wimp                        
His sisters Sansa and Arry                      
Are the Lady and the Chimp                        
His Mom and Dad were King and Queen of the land of Westeros                        
They were killed by Robert Barry
and now Cersei is the bosssss

dith Baker, was born in Athens ancient greece the middle of Spring and her parents
were Tom and Elizabeth Baker and they had 2 naughty brothers
named Ned and Jonithan who teased, and they looked like 2
big tough boys with heaps of muscle in their legs, and they told Edith she was a puny little girl, and a big wimp, and the boys said
they have more power than you loser girls, So Edith let us boys win
young edith let us boys win, and Edith ran to her parents crying and
they said, don’t worry about those boys, they can be tamed, and
Edith went to her room and said, i will find a way to tame those
naughty boys, yeah i will chop them up, from their juicy legs, and
have them for dinner, you can’t catch us ya girl, and the boys went
out , and the keep it secret who they actually were.
then the boys were attacked by a nasty witch and they were kept
in the witch’s back garden shed, with the fire on high, and the boys
yell out HELP HELP, PLEASE SAVE US FROM THIS MEAN LADY
we are only young we aren’t ready to die, please let us go, you see
Athena, put her power into Edith to defeat these boys, Athena made edtih grow into an adult to scare these boys out her, cause
she is the more powerful, than anyone on earth, and Edtih was
really suffering, and then Edith/Athena brought Ned and Jonithan
down to her dungeon, where she will keep these naughty boys till
they learn that teasing Edith baker was the worst mistake of their
lives, Edith was having a great time with Athena’s power giving these boys complete hell, and Jonithan said to Edith we are just
having fun with you, ok, i don’t want to change the world this way,
and Athena said to Edith, start with fattening up Jonithan, you see
he is expressing himself, he must be Cronus, cause he is the only
one that knows how to express himself, and jonithan said, Edith
don’t **** me, you are not going to pass go if you **** me, heh, and
Athena, fed Jonithan delicious treats, and after 3 weeks, he became a nice juicy fatty boy, and Edith with Athena’s help, cooked
Jonithan up and his bones were the only thing left, and Cronus was
discovered, as a religious god of Ancient greece, and Athena let Ned go home,and got out of Edith’s head and they lived happily ever after missing Jonithan but still lived happily ever after,

and on the following christmas two twins, Hansel who is Cronus, and his twin sister Gretel came into the world and lived  on a very rundown farm, which way back somewhere used to be the city of eternity, but Wanda Gray, who is the wicked witch, who used witch craft to destroy eternity and force the whole of mother earth to be destroyed and
humans will die, and Hansel and Gretel”s parents who lived a normal life in eternity by just normal family duties, and Hansel was
a great Rugby Union player, and he was a pick of all his friends,
and he was also a bit of a joker, making fun of Gretel every day,
making their parents very stressed out, mainly because Gretel was
a lazy girl ya know, never did anything constructive, and when Gretel said leave me alone, Hansel refused to listen to her, saying he was too tough for this mamby pamby girl, she just wants to play
with dolls and do all whimsy girlie things, and when Wanda Gray’s
plan to destroy eternity worked, every human was destroyed except for Hansel and Gretels family, and the father sent Hansel and Gretel off to find peace, and they walked in the destroyed debree of what was eternity, they came up to this old house,and Hansel recognised this place as the Rugby Union football club that Hansel
was a part of, so they came up to the front door,and hansel was
hoping to see his coach, cause he was too young to understand that they were the only civilised people on earth, and they knocked
on the door and then Wanda Gray who was the wicked witch, and
she put her mouth around Hansel and Gretel and brought them down to the dungeon, and Hansel and Gretel were screaming, saying HELP HELP LET US F..N GO WE ARE STUCK IN HERE FOREVER, after a few days, Gretel became very scared, as the only human she can see is her twin brother Hansel, they spent two
years down there, and Gretel was too shy to stay strong and was
getting weaker and Hansel was still trying even with out food, he
tried to keep the mascular part of the role of the male.
then Wanda Gray came back and said hi gretel, you are weak little girl aren’t you and then said, why aren’t you like that, you see Hansel had this plan, he just managed to weaken the chain, so
when the witch came he got free from the chain, and kicked Wanda Gray in the shins and it knocked her over, but Hansel couldn’t save
Gretel, so he just ran off, and then the witch got up and then stabbed Gretel in the stomach and after 2 hours she was dead, and
Hansel was nearly 12, and ran outside and then got a few old branches and push them against the door of the witch’s den, and then ran off into the fields, and then Hansel was puzzled, he was running in a direction, that his home was, and he couldn’t find it anywhere, so he ran back to the witch’s den, and he couldn’t find it either, and Hansel was scared, it looked like that Hansel was the only kid on earth, and started to run around the fields, and he was enjoying himself, and there was a big rainstorm that came into the
fields, and Hansel was picked up and went sliding down the hill and
fell asleep for 3 hours, and then Hansel woke up, and there was this giant Tyrannosaurus rex, and he looked mighty hungry, and then it started to chase Hansel through the woods, and Hansel was
sweating from the run and the fear that this dinosaur was going to eat him, and then Hansel slipped over and the tyrannosaurus rex
suddenly got out of the picture and then a deinanychus suddenly
came into site and fixed his eyes on Hansel, and Hansel found himself cornered by the tyrannosaurus rex and the deinanysaurus
and then a Megalosaurus came down and pushed Hansel down
into the ground and Hansel thought straight away he was going to
die, but he fell down on a patch of leaves laid down in a way like a
bed and this was the work of Athena saving Cronus, who was Hansel, and Hansel slept for 23 years, and woke up, and he looked like a new man, and he had Athena and Gretel, trying to rid evil out
of Wanda Gray, trying to send her to her next life, as Jesus Christ,
and Athena said to Hansel, that for eternity to come back again, we
all must, have these new names, Gretel you will be Mary, and now
with the power of Athena, i will send you to Joseph, after this reincarnation is completed and Hansel you are Cronus, as i told you and when i give you the warning you are going out there with a combination of mine and your power, to keep the dinosaurs away from Mary and Joseph, and Cronus did exactly that, and went out
to Bethlehem and got all the kings horses and all the kings men, all together to form a wall from one side of Isreal to the other, and
they find a home in Bethlehem, and the story they tell children is a
bit happy, don’t want to scare them off, but as donkey with pregnant
Mary on top, and Joseph walking , the tyrannosaurus rex and allosaurus and the stegosaurus were trying to get to the other side of Jereasulem and as they arrived the kings men got their guns out and said ready aim fire and every man fired at every dinosaur, and
the Anklylosaurus was the only the kings men couldn’t beat, so they chased him right around the country, and Cronus while that was going on was around making sure that Mary and Joseph can get to
the Inn in Bethlehem without any problems, and then this Anklylosaurus was nowhere to be found, and the kings men, decided to track down a source, to rid the dinosaurs forever and save this world from those terrible animals, so the source they found was killing the dinosaurs eggs from the tree they were carefully put,and the kings men fired their guns 5000 times into the
ground and after 4 days of doing this, they finally are achieving their
goal about making dinosaurs and then the kings men travelled through the fields and the Ankylosaurus, was running aroung having a wow of a time, and then they fired and fired and then just as they were losing bullets, the lizard was dead, and then Cronus
got Mary and Joseph to the inn, on August 23rd and she was nursed there till december 12 where Jesus was born officially, and
this was time to celebrate for everyone, they played, silent night
and when a child is born and away in a manger and jingle bells and
a very good version of It came upon a midnight clear, that as soon
as christmas eve was finished at midnight, the start of christmas day, Jesus was christened, the saviour of God,or buddha, or mohammed, anyway Cronus did a chant to start the ceremony, saying, ummmmm ummmmm um diddly dumb  dumb ummmm
welcome Jesus Christ to this land, every girl and boy and woman and man, um diddly dumb, umm diddly dum dum you see everyone is here to see, the kings men, killed each dinosaur to bring us peace, ummm diddly dum, and Cronus, then sat down and buddha
got up to also christen Cronus, for all his great work on bringing Jesus here, said you are now ST Nicholas, and then St Nicholas had to mend the feud between david and Goliath, and this was going to be hard, but St Nicholas, said, how about this Friday night,
New Years Eve, we will see the New Year in with a great fight, first
i will fight david and after that i will fight golliath, and then, david and gollath both had a duel to end the night and they still wanted to
**** each other, you see david beat St nicholas and gollath lost to St Nicholas, and then the last duel looked like david was doomed as
Gollath had him about to fall down a twenty storey medieveil building, and St Nicholas, went up there, and, used his powerful sword to bring david and gollath to safety, but then, well, they all went down to the party, and at midnight they screamed out 10, 9
8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2 ,1, HAPPY NEW YEAR, and then they sang auld
leng zine and also St Nicholas welcomed a tiger to be trained to
protect the village from stowaways and then St Nicholas was walking around and met up with John the Baptist, and they were both having a chinwag, and Moses and Jesus who are known to be
very wise, said, to John the baptist and St Nicholas, you know the best thing that you 2 must do, is have a debate about your visions
for the future, and we will ask everyone to vote for whose views are
greater, and then, we’ll tell you who wins, and John the baptist and
ST Nicholas went away thinking about what they will say, but Athena wasn’t at all amused, because she hates competitive games, and ST nicholas said, competition is a great way to bring peace to this land, and with competitions, we can have fun stuff all
through each generations, and Athena said, ok very well, and then
after 4 months of deciding what to say in their debates, the debate was just about to start, and here it is

ST NICHOLAS

heaps of fun for children
enjoying new generation music
inventing ways to have real fun
not wanting to ****
but would **** to prove a point
keep the death cycle fun with great
stories about reincarnation, from buddha
untill eternity is reached i want all my lives to
start from scratch
and to enjoy parties in any shape or form

John the baptist

inventing the holy bible to stop people suffering
start up a building for people to feel at ease about
losing loved ones
keeping generations safe from death, cause it can
create problems
killing Jesus at age 33, on the third day of the third month
for our sins
and attempt to stop war by inventing the word religion

and then each member of the town had their chance to vote and
after 4 months of counting the votes, Moses and Jesus, announced the winner was John the baptist, apparently St Nicholas’s views were a little unrealistic, and then St Nicholas got out his sword and threaten to **** an innocent bystander, cause John the baptist was
planning to **** one of the jesus christ, he said, he is going to **** you
Jesus Christ and Jesus said, the townsfolk thought John the baptist was more right in the money, and then St Nicholas killed this 23 year old man, and then said, live in your own town without me, i quit this crazy life, and then ST Nicholas went to the ocean near by, and
threw rocks into the ocean, trying to play skidding games to see how far he can throw, and a boat of 323 armed bandits, put a blanket over st nicholas’s head and locked him in the dungeon and
started to sail toward Antarctica, and then they threw St Nicholas
into the ocean, and St Nicholas was starting swim and arrived on
Antarctica, and then walked for 3 days and then noticed this little
village, and it was great, it had great little houses and candy cane
fountains and a great stream going from one side of the village to the other, and in August of that year, St Nicholas started to dress up the place a bit, with his backyard he had the largest work centre on the island, where he got into making toys for the kids of the island and handy things for the adults on the island, you see, St Nicholas
did this all himself, no there weren’t really magic elves, no that is to
make christmas fun again, st nick did all this himself, and also made his stage coach out of fence palings and chopped up a pumpkin into very thin slices, and made that the floor of the trailer and where he sat and used Butch the brumby from the local farm as his guider, and every year till he was 323 years old, delivered
presents to every house and he will even drop in to speak to the
kind folk as they offered them biscuits to go with his nice cold beer
and on Christmas eve on St Nicholas’s 323rd birthday, Athena used her powers to bring upon the people of Antarctica a very big blizzard, which wiped out the entire village, and when the blizzard was at it’s worst, St Nicholas was given a gold beer mug, with the
words St Nick forever and ever in our hearts, but as St Nick was leaving they were snowed under, and there was no way of getting out, and all the people parished, and St Nick, was no more, just an
image, to be captured in future lives, you see Cronus took over to
rule Ancient Greece, and Cronus lived with Athena in ancient greece for 100 years, as brother and sister, never to be stopped
and i am St Nick, Cronus, Hansel and Jonithan,

© 2014 writer joe

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Added on July 10, 2014
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writer joe
Canberra, ACT, Australia

About
you see i have a mental illness and i express myself through imaginary poems and stories and my stories are in depth, but art is like that, i would like my writing to be good enough for television.. more..

Writing
<noimaget.jpg> THE PARTY THAT ROCKED LA
A Story by writer joe
<noimaget.jpg> my concert on jupiter moo..
A Story by writer joe
<noimaget.jpg> chrmical in the brain
A Poem by writer joe
[more writing]









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B

A- She is just like me. A leader. A strong, independent, bisexual woman, she controls the alphabet from this end, and everyone respects her.

B-He's a nice guy, a bit pretentious, but nothing too special. The first time I saw Friends, I new that Ross was literally the letter B incarnated.

C- B's best friend, goes by male pronouns, but is gender fluid sometimes. He is much more genuine than B.

D- One of A's closest friend. She is cool, and kind of like a bad *** English teacher.

E- A ****. Your typical school bully. He's dating D.

F- E's wing-man, but like the stereotypical wing-man, he is kind hearted, but too much of a shy follower. And he likes D.

G- H's brother. Good student, slightly over weight, and just as homosexual as his sister.

H- The "mom" of the friend group. She is smart and supportive. My favorite lesbian of the alphabet.

I- A real cool dude. Spiky hair and sunglasses. He likes to lean against brick walls and just look cool. Very cool.

J- He is K's best friend.

K- She is J's best friend.

L- He hangs out with M, but not too much because he really isn't found of her littler sister N. He's too much of a wimp for my taste.

M- She is a really independent confident girl. She goes on double dates with O, P, and her sister N. She has a side thing going on with the letter A.

N- She lives in the shadow of her sister. She kind of reminds me of my own sister.

O- He is P's best friend, and always tells him what to do. He reminds me of E, but they've never met.

P- Let's O push him around. He hangs out with O, M, and N. But his true love is Q.

Q- She is quiet, but strong. She is madly in love with P. They sneak out together a lot. She has over protecting parents.

R- She is the leader of the Q-R-S friend group. A transgender and asexual bad ***. She supports Q and P, but not S and T

S- Tries to listen to her older friend R, but is just a good kid making bad decisions. She has a HUGE crush on both T and U.

T- Loves U. Strong male, plays football and works at a car wash.

U- She's a princess. Very quiet and polite. In a relationship with T, but I don't know her true intentions.

V- U's older sibling. A-gender and a CEO of some big business.

W- Same personality as H, but not as motherly, and bisexual.

X- The third wheel to the X-Y-Z clan. Also agender, and really just a fly on the wall. They sees a lot, but really don't like to socialize. But they really like going to the zoo.

Y-  Z's beta. Her best friend, and wife. They are ride and die ******* for life.

Z- Just like A. Exactly like A. Only she is in a committed relationship with Y. She controls the alphabet from this end, and everyone respects her.

The hamster walked alone broken hurt and on the verge of ending it all.
The streets of Hello were empty as the head of the *******  who created it .

He just couldn't take it anymore school was driving him nuts  his family were insane and there had to be more to life than sitting in his room on weekends listening to ****** music writing angst driven poetry and ******* to internet ****.
Anymore viruses and his computer was going to be more infected than Katy Perry's rancid crouch .

All hope was lost when he saw it in the parking lot a van  with the words M.R  Gonzo's  advice and free clinic walk-ins and homeless nymphos welcome  .

It sort of looked like a old bookmobile and smelled like a ******* or something that had died in a ******* .

The young misguided hamster figured what the **** did he have to lose so he knocked on the door .
It swung open as a cloud of smoke poured out the door it looked like a scene from towering inferno or Willie Nelsons tour bus  .

After hacking up half a lung and getting a contact high a face of true poetic brilliance emerged from haze of smoke .
And the young hamster was looking straight at the  one the only the often perverted cult leader of Hello Gonzo.

Hey there amigo **** bud you don't know how glad I am to see you come the **** in .
Saying the that the living legend Of Hello grabbed his school book and vanished into smoky hollow .

The kid sat there awhile not knowing if he should run or follow this nut job .
Well that is until a hand reached through the fog and pulled him in.

What the **** kid your wasting a great buzz you know how long it took me to get this bake going in here have a ******* seat.
The inside of the place looked like some cross between a Pub and a bad seventies ****  minus the  ugly chicks with cracked out faces and Chewbacca between there legs .

Ummm maybe I should leave .
The kid said scared of this scene and the mad hatter of a person sitting with a stiff drink in hand a umm well lets just say a herbal cigar in the other .

Bud you need to relax I tell ya  I got the munchies from hell .
With that said he took a bite out of the text book.
Jesus Christ this **** tastes more and more like cardboard dude I aint paying for this ****** .

Umm I'm not a pizza delivery guy and that's my math book ******* .
Yeah of course I knew that im just ******* with you sparky .
Okay man fifty bucks .

What?
The young hamster was convinced this guy was totally insane .
Fifty buck's for what ?

Duh Fifty for the **** ******* what you really think anyone would come here for ******* life advice from me?
I mean sure I'm ******* awesome as **** I do great drugs I drink more  than a fish and chicks dig me I mean sure you don't see any around that's just cause there on a break man I'm kind of finding myself .
You know just me my drugs and the wilderness .

Okay that explains why this place looks like you live in it there's a stack of **** movies that looks like you raided a wharehouse and your parked in a vacant lot in the city.

Yeah well least Im not some kid selling terrible pizza's that taste like paper oh yeah your late bud so this ones on the house .

I'm not a pizza boy you crazy old ******* !

Taking a long pause the artist formerly known as Gonzo was dead silent .

You have a point pizza boy who am I kidding I live in a kickass converted bookmobile  where I basically sell dope  to little ***** looking to get high and hopefully get to see some ******* in between
and you my wise public servant of terrible tasting pizza are yet living a existence of misery selling **** for us stoners to stuff are wasted faces with.

Dude are you ******* nuts I'm not a pizza delivery boy I'm just a young writer looking for advice .
The  young hamster went into his whole tale woe how nobody liked him and he was being picked on by ******* jocks who seven years from now would working the same dead end job as himself jerking off to old game video's well the ones that didn't make it to the NFL and had super model ****** blowing them while they watched old game videos that is .


He rambled on as the wise slightly ****** and definitely drunk wizard of Gonz pretending to care and listen  much like he did to chicks he was trying to get lucky with.

You know Gonzo your really ******* weird but man I feel better .
I bet you were once just like me a outcast loser wimp who was deeply sensitive  and yearned for the love of another.


He just stayed silent  sitting across from the table a wise man hidden behind dark glasses and  madness .

So what do I owe you man ?
Umm Gonzo  man are you lost in thought or something ?

The young dork had just bared his angst ridden soul and now he thought to himself **** man I think it was to much for him no wonder he's gone insane from listening to my ******* .

It felt like a hour as he kept trying to get the poet known as Gonzo to respond .

He was about to get off his **** and shake him when a noise more fowl than Justin Biebers  voice broke the silence .

It was the biggest and longest  **** he had ever herd and smelled almost as bad as gonzo's demented long winded jokes .

Finally he showed signs of life oh dude I forgot to tip you so sorry **** I had the best  sleep of my life your better than listening to the newest Taylor Swift cd  hell I was like in a coma dam did you **** in here I swear you kids and your silly pranks it's okay kid I swiped your wallet.  
You wont believe the **** I can pull when your asleep.


So you mean this whole time I been spilling my heart out to you thinking we were really becoming friends you were ******* asleep!?

Like a drunken baby after a good binge  in the trailer park amigo .

**** this !!

With that the young miserable moody *** teen hamster was gone and again gonzo was left to his thoughts to reflect on maybe he should have.
Aww **** that **** he said and cracked another fifth of bourbon and turned on some first class **** I'm talking bout the evening news hamsters get your minds out of the gutter.

Sure life can be total **** look at mine it's like a landfill of ******* crap.
But instead of being emotional *****.
I do what any grown man who lives a mobile bar does   .

Drink my liver silly and party my **** off writing ****** misspelled things to make people laugh and get hamsters to show me there ******* duh I'm just like Shakespeare  minus the talent and funny dungeons and dragons voice .

Until next time kids stay crazy.

Gonz

Seems to me like the Grim Reaper would have some sense of humour... Just look at his job description....

   He was staring at the fire with a horrified expression on his face.

   I quickly hid the stick with the marshmallow squished to the end of it behind my back. I frowned slightly at the look on his face and shook my head, thinking 'Nah, he’s not ready for that kind of humor' and I just stood slightly behind him and let the firelight dance in the night.

It certainly was a time for reflection…

  I go to touch him softly and he slowly turns his head away from the fire and as his eyes settle on my hand hovering above his shoulder and he shudders and jerks away. I’m offended at first until I realize I forgot my gloves that day.
Opps, scary, bony hand. Right! A real turn off and I duck my head to make sure the cowl is covering my face.
No more mistakes!

   “Where am I?” he grits though clenched teeth while his head swings between me and the fiery conflagration upon the motor way.

   “Who the hell are you”

“Me?” I ask, exasperated. Like the scary, bony hand didn’t give me away!

   “Am I dead?”

Oh ****, he’s now hyperventilating… not a good sign

“Not yet” I answer slowly… Hmmm, how to explain? “ No, your not dead, but you will be. I took you early because well…” and I wave my hand in the general direction of the car that just exploded, which quite nicely scored a point in favor of my benevolence. “I just swooped in a bit early because, lets face it… do you want to be there?!!”

He throws his hands over his head and ducks at the loud explosion and looks at me like it was my entire fault. Well I wasn’t the one that thought I was okay to drive home after drinking all night but I’m used to being pegged as ‘The Bad Guy’… rolls eyes Sheesh!

   “Where’s Janet?” he asks quietly then with an ear piercing scream (I don’t really have ears but by the howls coming from the forest behind us (because I can hear animals, I'm not completely deaf) I’m assuming his voice ratcheted up a notch or two…) JANET!!

"Calm down dude. She’s gone already."

   "Gone already? What do you mean gone already? You got me out and left her in the car?!?" He seems really ****** now.

"No! I didn’t! I mean that Gabriel has already been to collect her. Hey you’re a lucky guy. Gabriel doesn’t just shuck his wings to swoop down for nobody. She must be a real nice piece of… well a really nice lady for Gabriel to come collect her."

   "Gabriel?" He's shaking his head slowly like he's trying to dislodge a twig from his hair and his eyes are growing wider by the minute. "Gabriel? As in Archangel Gabriel? So she's going to heaven?"

He seems relieved which in turn makes me breath easier until he focuses again on me with a crazy eyed stare which makes me think he's about to get hysterical again.

   "Then what the hell am I still doing here? Why aren't I with her?"

Oh, tricky question. I hate the tricky questions. I'm so not paid enough for this **** and tricky questions. Why can't they just ever come along quietly?

"Umm" I hedge, with a little twitch right about where my eye muscle should have been. "I believe it has something to do with your secretary?" I deliberately leave it ending in a question.

   "My secretary? What the hell does that... Ohhh..."

Bingo, there you go. I love it when the penny drops quickly.

But I'm saddened because I know for a fact that his secretary was a scheming ***** that came onto him and he sidestepped all her advances at every opportunity but he was caught late night at the office with a big case and she took advantage of the late hour and even though nothing happened he still fantasized occasionally about the almost moment.

I pointed this out to Gabriel when he came to collect Janet and also advised that Janet was less innocent than she looked and he just sneered to me in that pompous angel way...
"Yeah? So what. We're really bored up there and this one is pious enough to escape notice but just enough down and ***** we can have some fun.
Back off Death!

You've already touched this one.

You just make sure you clean up the mess left over and make sure her man doesn't come sniffing 'round our domain or we'll make sure Lucifer hears about your little mistake with the last Pope and how you let him escape upstairs when he was meant to take the elevator south... Yeah, you know what I'm talking about...."
and then he was gone. All shining light and white wings and trumpets and fanfare.

Pfffttt... the mans exit is the most exciting thing about him so I guess Janet really is going to get what she deserves...

   "So what about me?" he said to pull me out of my reverie

"What about you?" Oh! What about* you? Okay, well I can put you back in the car and you can be burned alive until you take your last breath and get just a small taste of where you are heading"

He didn't really seem to like that answer and by the look on his face that is when I decided to toss the stick with the marshmallow squished onto the end of it far into the treeline. I really didn't think I was ever going to be able to pull that one out of the bag. But I was still really ****** at Janet (on his behalf) and I'd ******* this one up to royal proportions so I didn't think my next suggestion would be any less worthy of the moment.

"Or, I could bust you through the windshield on impact before the car sets alight."

He's not sure but he's nodding his head slowly and he's listening.

"Now, you have to remember, you were traveling at speed and not wearing a seat belt of course so you have to know that where you land after skidding a bit.... well, there will be scars..."

   *"Scars, chicks dig scars" he murmurs thoughtfully

"Yes, they do" I warm up to the thought. "And don't forget, you'll be a Widower too... Chicks dig that too"

   "Yes, a widower, scarred and tragically losing their wife. I like, I like"

He's warming to my idea.

I'm so smart!

Because he wasn't supposed to be the one I was to escort to Hell.
It was supposed to be his ***** of a wife Janet, but who in their right mind fights an Archangel for a soul? Not me, I'm the biggest wimp of all time. I just touch them and they fall! I'm not a fighter. Janet, for all her sins was to be mate to Lucifer tonight. I could have just touched Gabriel but I noticed he didn't get close enough to me to allow it and I didn't push the cause because I knew his payload wasn't anything he should gloat about and I wished him well...

So I really did '****' two birds with one stone this night. Janet got what was coming to her (Gabriel is the biggest sadistic ***** of the bunch) and her husband is a little banged up but the sympathy vote is scoring him some serious chick points.

Me?
I love my job :-)

Smaug the Dragon? A mere shrimp!
Fasticollaton, was really a wimp.
The Nasty one from Tolkien,
that ravaged Nargothrond?
Less scary than David Niven as James Bond.
The one that makes me turn to jelly,
was the little blonde one, name of Kelly!
Bruised my arm, broke my finger,
told me that my smelly feet linger.
Ate my chicken, said she didn't,
I thought the ****** thing was hidden!
Twelve years since I moved away,
from the scary friend who turned me grey.
Miss the little dragon so,
wherever she is, I hope she knows..

Wimpy baby wimpy baby
Shove it up your ****!

When pressed for lyrics on demand
I usually find some words at hand.
When wanting to sound sweet,
a rhyme can be a treat.

However, when writing about you,
the words aren't cheesy but true.
Yet, for all the wordplay art,
I can't make a dent in your heart.
But don't expect me to despair,
my soul is fueled by this dare.

And if I wanna be one of the tough,
a seven-nation army won't be enough.
If I wanna have a chance of a dance
or a simple trance inducing glance,

I cannot wimp, scour or retreat
I will not bow in front of fear's feet.
I will only bow to your feet,
so make sure they're clean. :P

I will not forsake this dream
cause first of all you'd be disappointed
and really that's reason enough...

In the cold of my car I shivered,
as the engine ran,
                     I sat still hoping to
dispense with the chill,
                 but my will said, 'accept it you are a wimp and an old cold one at that"
I was wearing my hat and my coat with light gloves,
                                                                ­        I loves to wear, they separate my fingers
            from the cold,
knitted grey and bold,
        they let me hold,
objects of metal like keys to hearts,  objects of stone like me very own heart,
                    objects of desire, that I keep secret until something transpires
                                                      ­               which warms better than fires,
on a dark and lonely night under the stars bright, wait was that my tire?
Oh where did I wonder off too,
                              as I was in thought, now lost,
   my wit, not sharp as the nail in my tire, the cost,
on a dark night in November, as six speeding police cars swoop past me,
on an urgent mission to stop a crime, their sirens wail as I am a
counterintuitive pantomime against the noise that assails me while
I am changing
a tire but remain the same,
metal tire rod tool in my hand, stone cold heart beating, against my ribs,
as I labor in disbelief that where I live is across from where I stand,
and with all technology you have to get on your hands and knees to
change a tire, I sneeze, I am not sure which is worse,
                                         my situation or these verse,
which decorate the night, not like stars,
as when spoken aloud every other word is profane,
while two homeless push there wares by me and laugh
                                                           ­     with disdain.
For in these transactions they have more street cred than I,
  and I would give them a bitcoin of my thoughts, but they
are two and I am one, alone and without a cell phone, and
this poem rolling around like lug nuts in a hubcap, as frost
creeps closer than the creeps who wish to reap of my misfortune.

Of which I now have some, that I can mix with theirs and then
I notice their bloodthirsty stares, so I begin to recite this poetry
and expound on the woe in me and send them packing covering their
ears with out attacking my hapless now three wheeled car.

When I was done I was nuttier than those lugs,
"good news" it was too cold for bugs,
and with good conscience you, from this, can unplug.


©DWE112013

She Let A Moth Drown In the Lake

She let a moth drown in the lake,
Waves taking stackars* little thing
Further than her oar could reach.
Standing on beach, cupped eye,
Squinting, trying…
Moth was gone.
Death had won.

Just so you know I do no lie,
That ‘she’ was I.
I am the wimp who hesitated.
Fear of depth, of cold, of wet.
Excuses inexcusable.

Death of moth, still flapping moth
Is just as undeserving as our own demise.
Pedestrian, prosaic, commonplace,
Disgusting,
Yet compulsively discussable.

All living things delight in life-ness.
While they move and throb the slightest,
They delight.
Who takes a life by standing by
Will also die.
It is essential, is it not, to cry,
Identify with kin?
Kin hereby meaning ‘life within’.

Left with remorse and shame
She self-condemns,
She takes the blame.
She hopes some force
That knows the individuality of moth
Shows sympathy in rebirth
In some future form that has a breath.

So be it, Om, Amen to Earth!

She Let A Moth Drown In the Lake 6.14.2020 Birth,Death & In Between II;Nature Of & In Reality; Circling Round Nature II;Pure Nakedness;Circling Round Experience; Arlene Nover, Corwin

*stackars; Swedish; ‘poor thing’

Don’t fear your fear
Or even anxiety –
Nagging Neurosis:
Even if it makes you pour with sweat
And tremble.

Don’t fight your fear,
Or seek to suppress it.
Don’t dumb it down
With tranquilisers and the like.

No need to be Superman,
Nor Wonder Woman.
No need for Spock-like Volcan
Emotional mind-control.

You aint a wimp
Because you are afraid.

Don’t bury your fear
Or shake it off.
Just Listen to it!
For Fear’s a Warning.
It’s doing a job.
A Red or Yellow Alert.
Warning You
About what?

Through fear we survive
To thrive.

In bygone days it saved us
From dinosaurs and sabre-toothed
Tigers.

What is the danger now?
What are you doing wrong?
How are you putting yourself
At risk?

What terrors lie along this path?
What are your instincts whispering
In your ear?

Intuition tells you what?
What is there to fear?
Just listen
And feel.
Embrace your fear.

Survive
To thrive.

Paul Butters

Saw myself blinking,
in the mirror,
I don't know what it stands for
this thick fog won't become any clearer
the sun won't shine like it did before.
my insides are bursting up
A burden I just can't keep stored
This is a feeling I can sum up
As a heart replaced by C4
listen to me
when your only company is your own reflection
He's the one who will always be
Ready to aprecciate your soul collection
Feels somehow weird when you look to the clouds
And see none of the forms you used to see
Now I can't have any doubts
I grew up to be the demon I was afraid to be
My home forest looks pale and erased
That tree I used to climb now has turned for ashes
I see now that I've never faced
Reality, and now I suffer as it crashes,
And it scratches
The wounds that are now dug deep
They keep coming, those hometown flashes
And pin me down like it's inducted sleep
Reality was the big old Bible
Kept hidden inside the dusty bookshelf
Now my path is a vicious cicle
And I wimp like a baby like I bully myself
Born, live, die, I pretend
That's how my life should begin and end
But my greed came, it seized my soul
And it took us both to Inferno's blackhole

Sometimes we have a life long dream...
but not sure where to start....
and sometimes we must go to the extreme..
with a thought that's not so smart....
It started with an issue..
she knew she had to resolve..
Unaware of her options, but knew it had to be solved..
He destroyed the girl that she had been...
destroyed the world she had lived in...
She weighed the pro's and the con's..
and concluded it had to do with ponds...
So she set out on a mission..
and decided to save for her own condition.
A well deserved vacation in the " Florida Keys"..
for her and her honey , and with his money....
The months how they passed...
So slowly, then at last...
The day they left was 20 below..Brrr..cold
Soon they were driving down Old Cheney Road..
A backwoods road where the St. Johns' River flowed..
I hear the fishing there is great...
You'll get a bite with very little bait..
They reached the lake in the early morn..
and that is where her plot was born..
She poured the coffee she had made..
and laced it with some " gator aide "....
Here my love she said so sweetly..
I made this special for you my sweetie..
The cast was made, the bait was set..
No reason for her to sweat or fret...
Eyes did close and body went limp..
She started to shake and then thought..
Come on girl be strong don't be a wimp..
No one knows we're here or where we're at..
She rolled the body to the edge of the water...
heard a splash !..it was only an otter...
Within a flash, the body was trash...
there must have been 20 gators below..
ripping and flipping the body about..
She packed up and decided to go back the scenic route....

post note: I've always wanted to be my own boss, and now due to my recent loss..
The Insurance is an assurance and I don't have to wait...
I'll open a store and call it " GATOR BAIT "

I thought that I would try my hand at a short children’s story.

---

Johny was bored. In fact he couldn’t remember having ever felt so fed up in his entire life. Dad had fallen asleep reading the paper while his mum sat reading some silly book with long words he couldn’t understand.
“I’m bored”.
“Why don’t you go and find someone to play with? There are lots of children on the beach, so many I can’t count them” his mother said laughing.
“Don’t want to. I’m bored” Johny said kicking sand in his mum’s face.
“You naughty boy!” Mrs Thomas said desperately attempting to clear her eyes of sand with a tissue. “Just wait until I get my hands on you!”
Johny felt guilty but he wasn’t about to apologise. Saying sorry was for wimps and he was no wimp. Before his mum had chance to get the sand out of her eyes Johny ran into the sea.
The water was cool. Johny kicked his legs sending water splashing high into the air. This was fun! Johny paddled away from the beach. He was no longer bored, this was much more interesting than reading a boring old newspaper or a book with words he couldn’t understand.
Suddenly the ground began to ***** downwards. Johny felt that he was going to be ****** to the very bottom of the ocean.
“Help!” he cried his hands grabbing at an enormous chain of sea ****. Gosh the chain was thick, bigger even than his dad’s huge arms. The chain didn’t move.
“That’s lucky I thought that sea **** floated but this is attached to something. Its stopped me from drowning. If it moved then I’d be ****** to the bottom of the ocean” Johny said with a shiver.
Johny followed the chain down. It was attached to a large rock.
“I wonder if I can lift this rock” Johny thought.
He tugged at the chain. Nothing happened.
“You will move you stupid rock” he said digging his toes into the soft sand and pulling back with all his strenghth. Suddenly there was a loud pop followed by a gurgling sound. Johny found himself lying flat on his back in a puddle of water. A puddle that couldn’t be right!
“Now look what you have done!”
Johny looked up to see a star fish desperately trying to find some water to swim in.
“You have let the plug out!”
“But I didn’t mean to!”
“That’s all very well but the fact is that you pulled the plug out and soon I and the other creatures who live in the sea will have no water to swim in. Without water we will die!”
Johny began to cry.
“I’m very sorry I didn’t know that the sea had a plug”.
“Your bath has a plug doesn’t it?”
“Yes of course”.
“Well then it should be obvious to an intelligent little boy like you that the ocean has a plug. How else do you think the sea god controls the tide? But the sea god only opens the plug hole a little bit so that I and the other creatures have time to swim far out into the ocean before the water disappears. There are lots of plugs all over the world and you have pulled one of them out completely!”
“What can I do? I’m very sorry Mr star fish, please just tell me what I can do”.
“See that cave over there?” the star fish asked pointing in the direction of a small cave in the cliff face.
“Yes”.
“Run as quick as you can and turn the taps on”.
“The taps?”
“I thought that you where a clever little boy. Yes the taps. Your sink and bath at home have taps don’t they to fill them up? So how else do you think that the sea god fills up the ocean?”
“Wow I didn’t know that” Johny said. As quick as a flash Johny raced to the cave. Inside he found a huge tap built into the cliff face.
“I’ll never be able to move that” Johny thought looking sadly at the enormous tap, “but I must otherwise all those poor sea creatures will die and it will be all my fault”. Taking hold of the tap Johny turned with all his might. At first nothing happened but, gradually a stream of salt water began to flow from the secret pipes hidden far below the sea bed. The sea level began to rise. Johny could see small waves dancing in the sunshine.
“Thank you little boy” the star fish called as he headed out into the deep blue ocean.

The end

Clean endings never exist and I can't breathe when you're around.
I get stupid; I get dizzy.

You're like a bad taste in my mouth, I'm doing everything I can to clean you out.
You're every ****** word on the tip of my tongue.

Wounded birds have more fight left in them than I have standing in front of you today. I am a wimp in my own sense and fashion.

I can't think when you're around.
Do you understand the emotional breakdowns that go on inside my mind when you're around?

It feels like a blind person trying to read a book. Like a roller coaster flying off the tracks.

I love you more than I can explain in any sense. So much that I need to you get away from me before I end up insane.

She loves it
when we go fishing,
enjoys all of the activities,
spearing & angling,
gathering & netting,
anything to get
down on the shore.
Her boy in the boat
always bounces,
craves more of my dangling.
She's a looker,
baits my hook just right,
I don't fight her
& it ain't no shrimp.
Nooooo,
no wimp here,
I always use my big long pole
looking for her sweet fishing-hole.
When I finally get there,
find the right spot,
I scrape her scales
from every conceivable angle
to uncover her tasty pearl.
I give her a whirl,
shuck the shell out of her
as she squeezes me hard
with her tight mussel,
ready to receive my roe,
a splish,
a splash,
a huge shot
of my hot cocktail sauce,
curling her toes.

They say it's selfish
That it makes you a wimp
But they can't say that
Because they've  never felt it

It's like getting shot
Every time you wake up
Because you know
No one gives a ****

There are so many reasons
Why we take our own lives
If you think it's selfish
You don't want to die
You haven't been broken
You don't wake up and cry
So stop saying it's selfish
To take your own life

I was the frightened little kid
Who got pushed against the wall.
I wasn’t terribly masculine
Had acne and was not very tall.
Or maybe it was my intelligence
Or artistic talent that drew the ire.
It was an ever-changing list
That drew my fellow student’s fire.

Maybe it was that my game
Was never quite there for sports.
Or maybe when I did not join
On jokes about **** and other sorts
Of woman demeaning quips
They had to have learned at home.
Parental misguidance one oh one
Not learned at school on the roam.

Whatever it was, I got beaten
And locked inside my own locker.
And I got called ***** and ***.
Now isn’t that a big fat shocker?
I got shoved around in hallways
And knocked out cold by a creep.
I didn’t even know the ****
But he decided to put me to sleep.

And when the faculty was called
I was suspended along with the guy.
The school’s policy it seemed
Was to punish both kids. Ask why.
I asked and I was told sternly
That the school really did not care
The attacker and the attacked
Had the same punishment to share.

Now, in this case, the attacker was
Known to be a ruffian and a miscreant.
And I was known to be a wimp.
So why give me unusual punishment
When I was already being punished
For not being some kind of snorting ****?
This was like the school system
Giving my jaw an extra and official sock!

It would be nice to say about this
That it was a totally isolated incident,
And that principals seldom pass out
This officially thoughtless kind of punishment.
But I heard that line so many times
I could have lip-synched right along with him
As the principal mouthed a policy line
From a time grown distant and dangerously dim.

School gym coaches called us girls
If we didn’t keep up with hand-picked brutes
Who enjoyed inherited musculature
And bigot approved physical attributes.
So those of us who were who we were
And could not manage mow down the men
At the line of scrimmages
Were called ‘lils’ and fairies once again.

Loose clouds, sink dreams of sunny days and sunny ways,
They are the front runners the fore tellers, driven
before the wind of the next wave of water falling
from the sky and from my eye.

It is a SIGN, It is a SIGN, I tell you don't wear a target out
when Scuds are about, It is a sign of bad weather and my doom.
DOOM I say!  Falls fool and Winters wimp, blown in my haggard face!

Seeing Scuds (a loose vapory missile, leading the bad weather)
at my doorsteps, dampening my foot falls, scud after scud,
more bad weather, dark clouds, I bend into the wind
head down so I won't drown and the Scuds can't see my eyes,

That I have given up, hide oh hooded head
and given in, I use my umbrella to hide behind,
will I or it survive the wind?
until spring rings in, with summer.
.