take a baseball bat to
your brother's car.
strike out and
light your matchstick bones,
burning a high fever that
scorches your torn-paper skin,
branding your shattered limbs with the
ink-black, swirling lightning of
your childhood's summer storms.
a tattooed promise along
taut shoulders, bearing,
like atlas, the sky,
with the north star
guiding you towards
peaceful slumber, and
home.

h.f.m.

Salty skin,
bare, burnt, buttery
and brutally BBQ'ed.

Amused by laying under
the rose-white parcel
decorated by green, blue and yellow.

Silver stars
beneath the blue lagoon
swallowing long limbs.

Appealing dry lips
consuming drops of shine,
kissed by the breeze.

Bathing beauty,
shy, sunny
and summoning sandy stares.

Mark A. Williams
                            SEPTEMBER 14, 1962 – JULY 23, 2018

___________________­

Wow Mark,

Was so, so saddened to hear this news. I haven't seen you in over ten years, but as kids, we had some amazing adventures, didn't we? Partying, camping and swimming at the Hudson lime pits. Mowing down on Pizza and pitchers of Pepsi (and as we grew up, BEER!) at Pizza Hut. (We knew the numbers to ALL the songs on that jukebox by heart!) Hanging out and looking at the stars through Budvido's telescope, listening to Doctor Demento. Laughing hysterically as we ran through Monty Python skits as everyone looked on in total puzzlement because THEY wouldn't discover them until YEARS later!

Building underground forts in the North Woods. You, Budvido, Zeke and I playing pinball at 7-11 for hours and hours. Watching Bands, chasing girls and playing Foosball or Pool at the Touch of Class Teen Club. You gave me my first Imported beer . . . a Lowenbrau. I will always owe my passion for those German beers to you and it was fitting that Budvido bestowed you with that moniker.

All through Jr. High, sharing a seat on the school bus. You, Matt, Tom, Buddy and I cruising around late night on our bikes for hours. Hanging around in the Jasmine Lakes sign with hijacked beer or getting free bags of Burgers from Burger Queen when they closed at night! Jousting with shopping carts on our bikes in the Winn-Dixie parking lot. Sitting up all night in Jimi's room after climbing in through the window or going on endless space cruises with him and Raymond in the Toyota.

(RIP Jimi Carlsen)

Sneaking into the nudest Colony and skinny dipping! Always cracking up at the school lunch table. Swimming in my pool and terrorizing my sister and her friends. (Allegedly) Trashing that crook Fast Eddie's produce stand after he refused to pay us for a full day of picking watermelons!

Good times, indeed . . . Some of my most precious memories.

I can only pray that you know that I wouldn't trade my youth or you in it for anything in the world and you will be sadly missed, Lowenbrau, my old friend.

I hope that where you are, your beers are ice cold and that you and Jimi aren't having to glue the Hookah  back together.

Jeff Gaines
July 28, 2018

That's the thing about insatiability
It can't be compartmentalized
It doesn't have an appointment
Or even a purpose, really
It is a persistent, unwelcome fog
That creeps into your skull
Until it smooths over every surface
And dampens every thought beneath it
And though some days
The fog may dissipate
Nothing is ever good enough
Not for long, anyway

What does my future hold
The untold story of me would be helpful to see
the next step to make
My name: Mistake
I'll make my name known often
To walk a straight path in this combat zone of fear
My name is proclaimed loud and clear for all to hear daily
With every land mine hit is a word audibly heard
                          
           "You were a mistake of a husband, I shouldn't of married you"

"It was a mistake staying with you for all of these years"

                  
                   I tried hard to defuse the explosives awhile ago
                   Believing the meadow was clean of the obscene
But I refused to take the time needed to re-fuse each bomb correctly


Sincerely:
Mistake

I can’t handle the truth of what’s happening
I’m dodging it, I’m running from it
I was hoping I could stay in my own lie
So I could lay down and sleep finally
It was working pretty well
The facade is over now
The smoke and mirrors are gone and I don’t feel strong anymore
Confidence of there being a chance dwindle to nothing, as if the candles wick is done burning
My heart is inconceivably broken
When I was awoken by the reality of my wife being gone
I’ve come to this conclusion many times but all through some delusion my mind made up
My body couldnt handle the reality back then
Hell, I can’t handle it now
Please God save me somehow