he had no shoes
and you could hardly call
his shirt a shirt
but he
sat between those two
trash cans like some king
on his throne
  
holding to a stick
like a scepter
  
He drank from an old
rusty can of
beans
but held it like some golden
goblet
  
Clearly he lost the
ability to
taste because in the can
he mixed all he could
find in the trash
  
Beer with *****
with tequila with wine
and acetone
and rubbing alcohol
  
He had a fearsome guardian
about him
A white dog who constantly
licked his ***** from
the ground
  
It looked black
and spongy
like coffee grounds
  
Some passersby offered to help him
and he refused
  
This was a king who
would go down with honor
after he lost
his kingdom

the little girl was scared
at first
but now she was terrified
and about to have
a panic attack

He kept her tight
in his arms and covered her
ears and
told her to calm down
and that everything will
be all right

It was 02:24 AM and the
knocks in
the door and all around
the walls and windows
still carried on

And there were howls
coming from
outside and
curses and a constant sound
of nails scratching
on wood

“Daddy, I’m scared! I’m…”

“I know, dear, I know. But
you have to
calm down. Remember to focus
on your breathing like I told you.
Deep, deep breaths, okay? Deep. In
and out. I promise you,
tomorrow everything’s gonna
be fine. I swear.”

“Is it zombies?” asked the
little girl.

“No, dear. It’s something else.”

“What’s it called?”

“An ex-girlfriend, dear.”

he sits alone in the
darkness

on a wooden chair

The walls surrounding him
have no
mirrors and
the windows are covered
by the thickest blinds

He doesn’t want to see his
old age

and the decay that already
started consuming
his body

In his mind he’s still
young, still
in his early twenties

still dreaming

He’s listening to music

He’s playing the music
and it exhausts him

The music comes from
within

An instrument with strings

His growling guts

He lubricates them with more
beer

he opened another beer
and sat on
the couch
but turned off the TV

He watched the kid

The kid was on his knees
before the coffee table
busy with
an orange pencil and a
piece of paper

Tongue poked
to one side and held
firmly between
the lips,
he was writing letters to
the pet dog
he’ll never see
again

And he did that
all day long

Dad sipped at his beer. The
years of action
were far beyond him now
but by all the gods
he swore
tonight will be the
night
he sneaks into his ex-wife’s
home and kidnaps
the dog

He even rented
a van
for it

A pretty thick
slice
of hell

That was life
so far

But today things
will change

Today he was six
years
old and that meant old
enough to
guide his blind father
on the streets

The old man was only
blind for
a year after some work
related accident involving acid

And there was a mother
somewhere too. She left
shortly after
father’s accident

Today father held on
to his son’s shirt
at the shoulder and told him
to walk towards the
railway

“I want to listen to
the train,” said father

but it turned out he
wanted much
more than that. He wanted to
feel the train. Against
his face

So he stood on the rails
and told the kid
to go back home
and return after an hour or so

“Okay,” said the kid. But
he didn’t leave. He watched
from a safe distance

Didn’t even find
the
event particularly disturbing

Then he went back home
and had some
fruit loops with milk
and his first taste of
beer

He had become a
man

She could say it if
she wanted
to but
the words would
carry no
weight behind them

like a cat shaking
the paw with
you
and not understanding
the real meaning
behind
the gesture

so was her
every
“I love you.”

Enough to make an
old boy cry
but he
preferred suicide

Needless to say
her response
was
“Meh.”

and the few survivors who couldn’t
fight
were lined up
along with the civilians
and shot
or killed in ways to entertain the soldiers
And dogs were trained to
tear them to shreds
and the ground became black with
their soaked blood
and over the next few days a carpet of
butterflies gathered on top of it

“It’s beautiful,” he said

She didn’t pay attention. Was too busy
removing golden teeth
from a severed head
she held in her lap. “******, whoever made these
implants did too good a job. I’ve
to take ‘em with gums, alright. Look, my
knife keeps slipping.”

“Stab his eyes please,” he said

“What? Why?”

“Because he’s looking at us. I can’t
stand it.”

“Jeez, you’re such a *****.” She quickly
stabbed the blade into
the head’s eyes one after the other. “Better?”

“Whatever,” he said. “Just hurry up
and pull those teeth.”

“I’m trying. If I had better tools though…”

He was silent for
a long time and then
he cleared his throat and said, “Hey, so… now that this
****** war is over… like, what are you
gonna do with your life?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “Get myself a few
gold teeth as extra spoils and
go back home. My mom wants
me to marry this
fat guy from the neighboring village. I probably
will then I’ll **** him out a few
kids and… well, grow old and die, I guess.”

“What? Is that it? That’s all?”

She looked at him with
a grin. “Hey, don’t worry, you’re still
getting some. Just wait until
tonight, okay?”

“******, that’s not what the heck
I meant. I meant… you know, there’s gotta be
more to life than just… just
getting married, making kids, and dying.”

“Really? Well, what are you
gonna do then?”

“I’m… gonna write. About it all. The war
and… everything.”

“Write? Like, a book? A story?”

“Yeah. It’s been my dream
since before the war started. Now I’ve the
experience to write about.”

“******* experience,” she said. “Who in the ****
d’you think will wanna read that?
What’s the story gonna say? How you
killed the enemy? Poisoned their wells? *****
their women and enslaved their children?
Stuck twigs down the **** holes of
prisoners and broke them inside for fun?”

“Hey, I never did any of that.”

“But you were there when the
others did it. And did nothing to stop them.
It counts as--”

“****! Okay, you’re right. Writing a book
about this would be
a terrible idea. Thanks.”

“****, look, I got one. This is solid gold.
Two more to go.”

He sighed. “Listen…”

“Yeah?”

“About that marriage of yours…”

“Yeah? What about it?”

“Well, let’s just say… I mean, you know…”

“******’ spit it out already!”

“Don’t marry that fat guy from
the neighboring village! ****, I said it.”

“Oh? And marry you instead?”

“Well…”

“Y’know, the fat guy from the neighboring village
is the son of a fairly rich butcher. Family
business. And you… Your father’s the
drunk who hung himself to avoid paying
back his debts. You see the conflict here, I hope.”

“So all you care about is money?”

“Why wouldn’t I care about money? I want to
live good, thank you very much. This is
the real world, not some
romantic story. Wake up. I gotta make the
rational decision.”

“I thought we had… something.”

“Yeah, we ****** a few times cuz’ there
was nothing better to do. And we’ll
**** again tonight, sure. But
that don’t mean we’re lovers now. Look, you’re
a nice guy. I’m sure you’ll find
love back at home. You don’t need a *****
like me. I mean, if you think I’m not
gonna ***** other guys
behind my husband’s back, you’re seriously trippin, boy.
So think about it, that could’ve been you. Would
you want that?”

“No, I suppose not.”

“Good. Well then, let’s get these teeth
and go have some ale. It’s on me.”

She stood and with her hand
soiled with blood
she reached out and pinched his cheek
and stretched it to force
a smile on his face. “C’mon, cheer up, **** you!
We still have a life ahead of us. Let’s
******’ live it.”

“Yeah… let’s.”