Medusa and Lizzie stood at the edge of the tumbling tidal plunge.
“I guess I’ll be making me amends.” said Lizzie dolefully.
“Whatever do you mean?”
“I was a scoundrel to you and your bunch. I deserve a good flogging.”
“Oh? Why didn’t you say so!”
Going to the ship and clambering up and inside Medusa returned wearing a short black leather cape and mask, carrying the twenty-foot twelve plait magical Leather Bullwhip.
“I say, ******,” said Perry sitting up on the grassy knoll. “What do you think is going on here?”
Hat over eyes, ****** mumbled something, not seeing Medusa taking Lizzie roughly by the arm and dragging her to the open clearing before them. ****** was snoring, fingers over his belly, Perry watching with rapt interest as Medusa pushed the woman to her scuffed knees and lashed her wrists. Lizzie lowering her head of long frizzy blonde hair bending forward to make her gritty sweat drenched back muscles the more pronounced under the precipitous waterfall’s crystal spray.
The cowboy heard the first crack of rawhide on splitting flesh but stayed asleep dreaming it was Medusa getting the beating when in reality it was Medusa lacerating the robust pirate who’d requested the treatment as proper discipline in accordance with the code of the high seas. Lizzie didn’t shriek at first; bearing up to the brutal lashing but as Medusa showed no sign of abating, the woman threw her head back howling and screaming in insensible agony. Her body numb with a feverish pain; Lizzie shook from head to foot and turned the color of blood even where she weren’t bleeding. At last collapsing on her face barely conscious, tears and perspiration clouding her reddened eyes.
“Up, *****,” ordered the Mistress. “Have you had enough?”
“No, ma’am” came the growling whimper. “I let meself be captured by those scurvy knaves. For thet I deserve at least three hundred more lashes.”
“So be it!”
“Mistress Medusa! Stop!” shouted Perry unable to take the sight any longer. Blood from Lizzie’s taut muscles had sprayed everywhere attracting crawling colonies of insects to the sweet nectar. “I can’t sit watching you beat a woman to death.”
“What have you been doing ‘til now?” scolded Medusa.
“I wanted to see how far you’d, oh, I should have known.”
“Relax, Periwinkle. She’s going to need a good cleaning up before she has any supper. Why don’t you take her over by the waterfall. Dawn will give you something to make the leathery old broad smell like a ton of roses.”
Confused by it all, Periwinkle helped Lizzie stagger to her feet leading her by the waist to the flowing waters there she sat up on a rock trying to stretch her limbs but they were shredded.
Dawn brought Perry a bottle of cooling salve. “Here you are, Mister Perry.”
“Thank you, Dawn. This will ease the pain I’m sure,” he said patting a *** of the wet cream into his hand stepping to the brawny pirate’s defined back to begin smoothing it over her rough skin.
“Perry,” she said, “Let’s get this sweat off me ‘fore ya go a-wastin’ that thar fine perfume what ya got there. Leave it be, lad, it’ll be there when we need it. Whyna join me under the spray an’ have a bit of it. I’m for the taking as is.”
Perry feeling the twitch in his ***** tore out of his vest and collar. “Get it all off, man, we’s not doing laundry.”
“Oh, right,” he said, tugging off sox and braces.
Naked as man and very large woman they dipped under the chilly waves. He was luxuriating at the sandy shoal enjoying the flowery wind blowing over the verdant mountainside.  “This is paradise,” said Perry laying in the rippling currents.
****** awoke to the smell of Dawn’s bubbling cauldron. He sat up hungry and ready to eat.
“Mister ******, you cannot eat ‘til you have bathed,” said the witchy gypsy.
“Bathed?”
Yes,” she said. “We cannot eat my mother’s grass soup until we have cleansed our inner light.”
“I don’t know,” he said catching himself mid sentence.
Leaving the boiling ***, her body well rounded and dusky olive Dawn trundled to the flowing mist her limbs bristling. Medusa scaly and filthy giving him a look he could never live down he pulled off his rumpled blue outfit.
“You look a whole lot different when you drop all that cowboy gear, you know that?”
“Uh, I reckon so. I don’t ‘member the last time I walked around buck naked like this. I’m sure liking this heat.” ****** without his chaps and hat and other duds was a surprise. He looked like something natural to the rainforest. Maybe an ancient panther god. Medusa meanwhile was shedding scales all over the place in the Amazonian heat. She was starting to turn so dark a shade of green she appeared brown, and her vipers, in her ultimately relaxed state of mind appeared to have transformed into long black curls that lay wryly down to the hollow above her ***. Taking his fingers like a child they walked hand in hand into the breaking waves.
After they’d eaten Medusa felt relaxed, like her bones had turned to water. The sound of the big river flowing nearby made her thighs vibrate and she opened her eyes to search out the man. He wasn’t far. This was new. It still felt like a surreal dream, everything since the huge sacrificial ceremony all those potions and powders and juices still made her head spin. The jungle heat made her center of gravity tilt so Southward she could barely walk upright. She was throbbing with a need she thought she had banished a thousand years ago. “**** this play-cowpoke, he got to me,” she thought, “Curse that white bandana, and his perfect ***. I gotta get over this,” she lectured herself; but not this second. She laughed out loud and tapped his shoulder as they sat by the fire. He jumped a little, but then granted her a new thing. A slowly sweet smile. And she rolled into his arms in a heated abandon of simply wanting to be held to his flesh, kissed, to feel his hips grating on hers, and then to sleep, nothing more.
This was a whole new world.
Perry and Lizzie taking a flaming torch and winding further up the mountainous path, stopped on a steep plateau where planting the flame, she playfully tackled him, pinning him to the ground. He was prepared as ever. Her groaning moans were pleasure mixed with pain from the severe beating Medusa had given her, not that Lizzie Quick, Queen of pirates hadn’t had worse at the hands of the Royal Navy. The chattering women were hairy and hunched; the naked ringleader of the bunch coming forward with her shaman husband.
“Remy!” cried Perry. “What are you doing here like this? What’s happening?”
“Arrgg me hearty. You be my prisoners now and me wife’s gotta thing about heads. She likes ‘em real small an’ yours is too big, Periwinkle.”
“Have you gone mad, man? You can’t shrink our heads!”
“Oh sure they can. They’ve got it down to a science. I even helped ‘em make a few improvements. Take ‘em away, grrrls!”

i'm moving forward,
i'm growing stronger
what doesn't **** you
turns you into stone
medusa
i'm growing stronger
i'm moving forward
what doesn't **** you
chills you to the bone
medusa

and ooh where do you go
ooh i'm trying not to care.
who do you think you are
ooh with snake venom in your hair
medusa, medusa

and i'm moving forward,
i'm growing stronger
what doesn't **** you
turns you into stone
medusa
i'm growing stronger
i'm moving forward
what doesn't **** you
chills you to the bone
medusa

and this stone cold heart feels nothing anymore
this stone cold heart feels nothing
medusa
and this stone cold heart feels nothing anymore
you're nothing anymore
cause i'm
i'm medusa

Once again, thwarted by the raging
Green Gorgon Queen, the Evil Absolute
had no recourse but to turn ever darker;
to retreat into the bowels of the Kave,
where the unholy alliance of the mystical
Ku Klux **** was formed in deepest
shadows; unseen white men plotting
their own & eventually everyone else's
destruction; bent on blind hatred &
meaningless, stupid revenge that only
brought uncomfortable & unsettling
laughter in polite company... but in secret,
they were sure, every decent white person
felt exactly as they did, even as before their
eyes the exhaustless wisdom of legendary
ones & the rapid speed of the machine-age
made the **** seem quaint & out-of-dated
even in their own minds, too embarrassed
to admit the horrible truth, that would have
sent Socrates & Aristotle into howling
paroxysms... sad to see stupidity wasted
on one so ugly; the Moderns had invented
the Neanderthal Ideal to compensate for
the pathetic reality of actually beating
one another over the heads... It was here,
in never seen recesses that the Absolute
summoned his latest dark immoral dread...
The Laugher!!!

Her foes vanquished for the time being,
Medusa thought to take in a show.
Staying in the town knowing Sherman's
fiery advance was yet to dawn on the gimlet-eyed
Rebels. She was ahead of her time
& looking back all the while. The show
was a melodramatic comedy of the type popular
in the pre-gilded era of dusky frontiers
& nascent city lights. The war just revving up,
before she could get back to ****** who as yet
had no fortelling of his own fate at that
ripe young age. Putting the Cowboy of the Future
out of mind & pinning a willowy white brim
in the teeth of Akasha & a few of the others,
as they all wrapped comfortably coiled beneath
the voluminous Chapeau.

Hoping there would plenty of high-stepping
chorines, Medusa prepared to be duly entertained.
Only to be crushed when the show appeared for all
of her high hopes to be a rather staid drawing room
drama of the modern variety; with realistic dialogue
and grave social concerns. It was the last thing she
needed, bu as she was walking out, one earnest
Victorian thespian while dragging her train across
the rickety boards, caught the material on a wayward
nail, which proved stubborn enough to tear
the half-knitted stage rag & unstrung corset
completely off the actress' back...

The first part of the Laugher's devious scheme
laid, instead, the staid audience rose to its feet
& burst into applause, appreciating the forward-
thinking playwright's daring; a completely
unexpected turn, as the brocaded velvet curtain
fell & house lanterns were lit... Medusa had had
her back to the stage the whole time peering
ahead toward the dark egress... Off to the side
unseen & all but unnoticed, the Absolute,
in his true identity of Horace Horatio Whoreson II,
who's progeny would likewise bear upon
the Gorgon's destiny years hence...

As the audience reached the smoking chamber,
slowly reflecting upon their most immediate
impressions & once catching themselves
giggling a bit, tittering spreading throughout
the room until one by one, every man,
woman, maiden & suitor dropped dead
from convulsive choking laughter...

In the hansom cab Medusa thought she
should've gotten her money back for the
ticket, peering at the punched slip, making
note to avoid the New Realism from here on.

Backstage at the theater the actors were aghast
that the audience did not return for the second
act, thinking their careers doomed... but a stage
hand rushing in from the lobby gravely informed
that the entire company in attendance had all
died of from a deadly leak in the gas sconces.

Since the tragedy could not ave been avoided at
any cost, it was attributed to an Act of God &
the actors were relieved of their guilt... their souls
spared; the young actress, however, was never to
quite recover; having witnessed her shame in front
of the stunned then mesmerized crowd of genteel
upstanding citizens & townsfolk who all had
in every likelihood had never seen a denuded young
maiden scamper away in heavy boots after freezing
in disbelief, giving a prolonged view of choice
Southern womanhood to the full house, the orchestra
striking up a delayed tattoo...

Cheeks blushing like bright American Beauties,
the otherwise pale actress greeted the mysterious
courtier with the distinctly foreign accent;

Claiming to be nobility...
he informs the girl that he is a doctor, of sorts,
& proceeded to 'examine' her in the hope that
she had not been injured when forcibly disrobed
with such incautious suddeness...

finding his clammy fingers crawling the girl's
spine & reaching for her ribs, she recoils with
uncontrollable snickering; "I'm ticklish!" she cried.

The hellish black eyes ablaze, the oily perfumed
phantom dashes from her quarters as if struck
by the very lightning of genius!!

If he could merely get the wicked Queen
in the nearest proximity to a feather, he'd
have her at his mercy!!

Disguised as a traveling feather salesman,
the villain enters the gaudily appointed lobby
of the town's main hotel in search of clients
for his dubious wares; "You wouldn't know
of a young madame who might be in mind
to purchase such fine Old World Ostrich!!"
he boasted to the unimpressed help, coming
upon the bored desk-man; "I say, my man,
would there a female presence about that
would love the silken licks of a fine plume?"
"I be needin' a new quill pen," croaked the
roused clerk, "You be having one a'them now?"

Taken by the abrupt request, the quandried
no-gooder is forced to fish through his bag
of props all of which served no purpose but
to provoke derisive laughter; mangled stems
losing their mottled bloom as the dusty
shafts molted in a furious flap of loose spines.

"I say, old man, I've been wearing this top
since Boston," said one gruff old man, doffing
his pate, "You wouldn't have the single red tail
feather of an Eastern Blue Breasted Whip-poor-will
or perhaps jut any old common Goatsucker there
in that bag?"

Having nothing of the sort, the flustered
peddler hurried packing up his flying feathers
rushed out of the lobby back to the street where
a passing crow happened to spot a premium
target for a leisurely midair release....

the gob as big as an egg felt good coming
out too, as it splashed across the bewildered crown...
dripping past spectacles & that with an
inopportune snort lodged in the sinuses...

Momentarily Medusa came down to
the desk & inquired about any messages,
complimenting the clerk on his fluttering
new pen. "Feller was jes' in here givin'
'em away! He had a bunch!"

Having just fed her hair, she
felt there was no need to spoil it...

Being the **** of laughter rather than deliberately causing any,
the archfiend skulked back to his dark lair to write better jokes.

Thinking perhaps the lady in question
preferred more savory fare, & enlisting
his willing Trilby, the young actress
of his recent acquaintance, to approach
said well-heeled lady in the guise of traveling
corset sales-lady; bedecked in leather
high-boys & tightly cinched silk garter,
a waist all of 19" & a face
glowing red atop a head about to burst...  
in High-heeled hob-nail
boots, the dainty young thing sauntered
up to the hotel desk. Captivating at first blush,
the normally near-sighted clerk straightened
his bow-tie. "Can I help you, Miss?"
"Uh, yes. My name is Miss somethinorother,
I'm a..."
"I didn't get that name, was that something?"
"Or other."
"Miss Other,"
"No Miss something."
"What? I missed something."
"My name.
"What was it?"
"What?"
"You say something?"
"My name!"
"What was it?"
"Something, I... oh, never mind!"
"Okay, Miss Nevermind,
what can I do for you?"
"Can you give me a room
with a hot bath?"
"I can give you the room
but you'll have to take the bath yourself..."
"I see you have a new telephone."
"You don't have to look at it, you listen to it."

Medusa, descending the Hotel stairs,
sniffed out the aroma of tanned meat.

"Any messages for me?"
"Telegram."
"Can I have a look at it?"
"Oh, you don't look at it!
You listen to it!" piped up
the corseted pipsqueak...

"And you are?" quote Medusa.
"Something!"
"That you are...what have you
in your leather case?" asked the
curious queen mischievously.
"Oh! Leather," the girl cried,
back in character. "I sell leather!
Would you like to see the new
French fashion line?"
"Why don't we go up to my boudoir?"
offered the mistress at last, then
curtly but politely,
"Amos, send a bottle of twenty year
old bourbon up to my room in twenty
minutes. It's waited this long."
"Will do, Miss M..."
"That's Captain."
"Captain?" gushed the frail female,
"You must be important!"
"I'll tell you all about it upstairs,"
offered the frilly arm of the regal
guest, leading the lamb-like girl
to unknown & unguessed pleasures...

Th plot of course was to get the
Blue hero festooned in some
strappy leather contraption before
moving onto tickle-play, at which
point...

But the girl was already giggly as Medusa stroked
the fuzzy cheek & led her further into her sanctum...
It was Medusa now with one thing on her mind, part
of the deal she'd struck with the Union was that she'd
be responsible for her own *****, which she now felt
firmly within her grasp... the girl sighed, her mind
drifting to the somber performance the night before,
before the single capricious nailed removed her garment
to sudden applause once the curtain had gone down...

She had encountered the strange foreigner
in her dressing room but now under the bewitching
gaze of the fabled primeval beauty, the little lady
had no choice but to wee a bit.

"Oh, I'm wet," she cried weakly as the door sounded.
"That must be the whisky. Now we'll really get wet."

But the clerk had been tipped an honest fin
to allow the odd creature to bring the *****
up to the door of the lady's boudoir suite...

"Let's get you out of these things.
They must be uncomfortable,"
suggested the queen flipping the girl
over on her ample chest &
shifting the shifting petticoats until
arriving at the girl's leather
pantaloons. "You come prepared."
"I sell leather!" the girl cry muffled
by settee pillows. "And you model
it too? Now that's service,
but it must be hot..."

Standing outside holding a seltzer bottle,
the fiend was set to strike, but when the
door flung open, a ***** soaked set of
rawhide Lederhosen slapped him in the
face...the bottle snatched from his fingers
& the door slammed.

Taking a swig, the door flung open again,
this time the bottle crashing down over his head.
"That's not bourbon! Where's Amos, you clod?
You must be new... go and try again!
and if you come back here with water,
I'll drown you with it!" The door slamming
again, feminine titters rising gleefully,
listening outside for the sounds of laughter
proving futile after a few hours, with only
endless cries of "O, Captain! My Captain!"
bellowing from the mistress' suites.

With no one left to do his dastardly
***** work, the Absolute is at last forced
to take matters in his own hands... but not
entirely... of his scant loyal followers
remain Moonshine former sidekick to the
electrically incinerated White Lightnin';

& the traitorous Indian couple Running Bear
the cowardly brave, & the ditzy White Dove
whose true allegiance she knew not where;
kidnapped as a child from her settler parents
who were themselves scalped & worn as
fashionable accessories, all White Dove
knew was the life of a Plains Indian squaw...

Feeling at odds with her Native upbringing
White Dove has no recourse but to Kave of
the ****, where the Absolute sits staring at
French daguerreotypes by candlelight...

Seeing the shimmer white girl in her Native
attire of next-to-nothing standing just beyond
the light, a pale silhouette in the faint flicker.

"Yes?" called the wary man, not at all
embarrassed by his discovery. He had been
here for some time, having gone through
many candles... the spreading white puddle
at his feet.

"I can no longer join forces with the White Man!"
announced the Indian maid defiantly.

The final indignation... the all mighty Grand
Wizard rose up to is full stature, all four foot
five of him and in rushing to seize her
dropped the candle plunging the deep cavern
into complete darkness.

Fumbling his pockets for a match giving
the rebellious squaw time to pick up a rock
& when the flare flamed at his face she
struck him pointedly across the brow with
a careful swing of her honed, limber arm...

Passed out in utter darkness Whoreson otherwise
known as the Evil white Absolute, knew at long
last what it was like to experience true blackness.

In these times,
I am.
Unsure of what
I see.

& If
my eyes,
have not betrayed
my heart.

I will, only know you..

As a
monster,
Medusa.

Is your snake hungry?

Out of the star-crossed Southern
night, comes a group of heroes
whose sole purpose is to defend
White Rule! Capt'n Confederacy!
Fed on a strict diet of Hog Maw
& Chitterlings, Ox-tails & grits,
the Capt'n is the South's Ultimate Rebel
Soldier!! White Lightnin'  --- channeling
electric bolts conjured from the sky
through the use of prosthetic copper
hands & his sidekick Moonshine,
who can deflect sun-bright moonlight
off White Lightnin's glowing fingers;
Winter Blonde, whose utter whiteness
renders her invisible in broad daylight!!!
Her one weakness: Dark male flesh...
& Lastly, & most likely least of all,
RR, the Human Locomotive, can outrun
any man or ****, except uphill...
These are the Confederate Revengers!

Called together by the Absolute,
shadowy leader of the sinister racist cabal:
The Confederate Revengers meet
their newest prospective member:
"Ladies & gentlemen, I'd like you
to be introduced to the one and only Medusa,
last of the mighty Gorgon race."
The nefarious heroes bowed their heads,
the sight of the primal goddess
being too much to behold.
"She ain't no southern belle!" cried Locomotive,
but she kicked him in the cow-catcher
& groaning, he doubled over.
"Anyone else want to question my pedigree?"
she snarled earnestly, her complexion
a translucent shade of emerald.
So it was settled. Medusa was brought
into the motley attired circle,
but the Mediterranean queen
had her own motives for signing
on to the as yet unknown venture.

In her innocuous alter-ego as Sunflower
Juniper the nefarious agent Moonshine
made her way into a soirée of Northern
bigwigs; tarted up like a Yankee *****
of easy virtue, a costume she had had
to don many evenings before,
sometimes for nights on end, getting
high-ranking Union officers liquored
up, & before that, the British military
gentry would spill their guts over her
full jugs about troop & ship movements
during the last skirmishes of the old war.
Moonshine, older than she looked
had aged well & parts of her kept
slipping into view. The Bluecoats were intrigued.
By the time they were all drunk & passed
out prone on the floor, Sunflower knew
the exact location of the Union front line...
Slipping into the shadows before dawn,
Moonshine, as she was commonly
called by her underworld confederates, vanished
like her namesake with no man in blue the wiser.

Returning to the Kave of the ****,
Moonshine reveals what she knows;
however, our nominal heroine,
Medusa herself, is a Union spy & quickly
prepares to inform the Generals that their
movements have been compromised.
Ironically, at just that moment both Union
& Confederate Commanders bellies were
hit with the rotten cider offered by a little
black boy dashing here and there sloshing
a bucket of homely cheer. Everything coming
to an abrupt halt, Medusa was about to remove
herself from the vast cavern & speed
into the night to the Union camp
just over the hill. Her mare had the speed
of Pegasus but she was nevertheless
set upon by White Lightnin',
who hurled a blue charge of searing heat
at her head of vociferous serpents.
Not to be bested, the Gorgon Queen
snapped her mount's reign
to hurry on faster and cracking the short
whip, the startled creature spray
as it galloped a veritable drinking stall's
worth of pungent ***** from the racing
thoroughbred's straining
bladder blending with the pungent
sycamore & lilacs of the surrounding fields;
the warm sway of night filled
with enchanting aroma from all sides.
So intoxicated with the Southern
countryside's native allure despite
the ravages of war, White Lightnin'
didn't notice the enormous
puddle of horse **** that had turned
the road to mud beneath his feet
& once the tattered suede boots
set down in the mess, did a jolt
of lightning rise from the soles
of his feet up through his spine
& spread through every other limb
& nerve in the stunned rebel's body,
searing the specially wielded copper
gloves to his hands & filling him
with more voltage than any normal
man was ever created
by god to withstand. Shocked to the skin,
the frozen electrified hero crackled &
popped like a burning fir tree until
there was nothing where he once stood,
but the charred set of smoky boot heels.
That was one less Super Confederate
Medusa would have to deal with in the end...

Captain Confederacy, as his alter-ego,
the nondescript traveling women's shoe salesman
Travis Toetickler, suspicious of their mysterious
olive-skinned compatriot, goes to the hotel where
the gorgon is staying to investigate;
finesses the flimsy brass lock to gain entry
to Medusa's suites, wherein she keeps mostly
locked away, certain items with particular
attitudes & appetites of their own.
Dixie, waiting outside disguised as a chambermaid
as the Captain ducks inside the darkened room.
Immediately there is a sound gnashing fangs
&crunching jaws. A feather boa, unfed for days,
had strangled the hapless
solid white hero in the dark while
a pair of snakeskin boots held his legs, while
an alligator purse was taking big chomps out
of his meaty belly fat. Dixie, against her better
judgement enters the room only to be used
as a toothpick... & when Medusa returns
she finds only the blood spattered remnants
of Captain Confederacy's white & Gray
uniform & the bird ***** remains of little Dixie,
beaten down by a writhing leather, mermaid
ribbed bustier.

This isn't Rome
I'm standing still because of statutes
Stone grill: I a carved marble statue
not a muscle dares,

Near frozen by the fear,
let it go I hear
over shoulder: perfect pass
if I get shot over a penalty

Is it clear?
my arms are arms?
a load chopper; in his shades,
do those aviators make me even darker?
(if I studied aviation I could take off I can hover, I can…)

Wait.
he's moving closer,
every hair strand an antenna,
I can feel him,

The smell of disdain on his glare,
stained blood on his hands,
another brother,
my brother

Guiltier with every pace so
--  show your hands,
foot mixed with concrete
I take this order serious,
my motions are motive
and mistaken for resist,

Wait.
Is it his stare or am I ******?
(Why did I decide to go my friends wouldn't believe this…)

limitations to the thoughts;
am I arrested or caught?

I'm cold on the surface,
Erode so slow is my sediment evidence,
A blue god so I'm pacified,
I'm hesitant,

he calls and I say that I'm innocent,
I'm witnessing
the transitioning from eruption to ocean
-- volcanic

Blue Medusa,
can you only sculpt destruction?
(I'm not 3 dimensional, I'm real and I matter, I'm real and I matter)

I'm real,
But I shatter,

Gravel if determined that I'm rude so I can't breath,
Gravel if My license plate removed I don't leave,
I don't speak,
I don't flee,
I'm not free,
I believe,
That this happen to my mothers, mother
mothers' brother,

Brother from another was granite
and granted he's valuable
but only in a home
-- of course

I'm quartz in the making
A corpse still shaking
Cause a wallet was mistaken
Or I.D. was misplaced

So, I'm on the rocks
since the bar says that I'm a criminal,
velvet rope divider marks my life
and a vigil,

a wake,
or a hashtag,
you choose,
glass house,
Cold Stone’s,
rocky road,
Medusa licks his finger tips

same finger which
petrified me in the first place,
Reminded I'm in Rome
as I'm standing there motionless

a statue for display
or a trophy for the kitchen,
this art is not for sale
there will be no shipping,

With solidarity
through our solidification,
It won't matter if I look back,
I Matter and I’m Black.

All Anne had left to wear was the frilly gown Charlotte had made for her. Not exactly her style but she remembered with some fondness what ****** had said about presenting herself as a lady.
The Kid arrived in the dining room hungrier than he’d ever been in his life. The big woman had ****** out everything he had in him, in a good way, but he felt like he’d lost a few pounds.
“What’s for supper, Mabel?” he asked his voice somewhat unsteady.
“They’s mermaid soup, mermaid cutlets, mermaid fricassee, mermaid casserole, mermaid steak and grilled mermaid fritters.”
“Ain’t there nothing to eat besides mermaid?” he groaned.
“Seaweed,” she said curtly.
“Gadurnit. We’ve been eatin’ mermaids and weeds for days. How about an old fashioned T-bone?”
“You get the cow and I’ll cook it up.”
****** came in looking not at all amused, “Say, Kid we need you up on deck.”
“Yes’m, Mister ******,” said the kid following the cowboy to the aft where ****** pointed over the water.
“We’re being followed. Fritz said there’s a school of mermaids out there. They followed from the island so they can’t be friendly. Think you can pick ‘em off?”
The Kid took his hat off and wiped his fingers through his sweaty hair. “Shoot, Mister ******, that’ll be like shootin’ fish in a barrel, ‘cept it’s the ocean and the fish are mermaids, an’...”
“Just get to it. As soon as you spot one blow it’s ******* brains out. That’s the only way we’re gonna get rid of them. You’ve been with Anne Bonny have ya.”
“How can ya tell?”
“You’ve got her scent all over you. There’s only one ***** onboard smells like she’s been rolling in a soggy mud patch.”
“Gee, ya think Mabel noticed?”
“That gal lost her sense of smell a long time ago. Take care of that business and Mabel’ll be all over ya like always.”
“I reckon you’re right. Let’s shoot us some mermaids.”
“Now you’re talking, Kid. Let’s do it.”
Sinking far below the waves, the evil swimmers kept their telltale fins out of sight, gliding along with the ship’s shadow as it sailed beneath the bright waves. The Kid and ****** scanning the water eyeing only dolphin and shark. “They’re smarter than they look, Kid. I’d bet they put these varmints up to swimming around the boat so they could cook up a scheme. They may taste like fish but they think like women.”
“Gosh, Mister ******, ain’t that the best of both worlds?”
“I guess that depends on which end you get ‘em by.”
Soon after, sailing smoothly out of the Caribbean waters piloted by the old mariner Popeye and navigated by the allwise general, the Green Belle ran afoul of no other nemeses as it made its way down along the east coast of South America. With no real roles on the ship, ****** and Medusa found themselves spending more and more time with each other.
“Why don’t you do something with yourself,” she scolded.
“What?” he said on edge from her relentless rasping nagging.
“All you do is pace. Why don’t you make yourself useful. Fetch me a mint julep” she ordered haughtily; staying in the covers and bedclothes she’d been in for a week.
“Fetch? Fetch! What do I look like?” he growled meanly.
“I’ve been trying to figure that out,” she said snippily.
His eyes flaming he stormed from the room, Medusa paying his tantrum no mind.
Finding Perry with Charlotte in the study, ****** had finally had enough with the uppity Gorgon. “Perry, I need to borrow that contraption.”
Perry, startled making out with the handmaid behind a brocade curtain was just as surprised to hear ******’s request. “Are you sure, Mister ******? You told me you never wanted to see the temporal distorter again.”
“Not that. I’m not gonna mess with that. There are more things going on than you’ve dreamed up in your philosophy. I mean the ship, the Leaping Lizzie. I’m going to take her out and scout ahead. I just need to get off this ****** boat. Get a change of scenery.”
“That’s sounds like a splendid idea, Mister ******. Let’s go discuss it with Fritz. He has maps of the terrain. Depending on what you see we can make any necessary corrections.”
“You’re a right smart feller, Periwinkle. I’ll go scare up Fritz.”
“I’ll go prepare the ship. I’ll meet you up on deck.”
As soon as ****** had left, Medusa grew bored. She found him with Perry on deck standing before the crabship. “What’s going on?” she asked observing the mechanical tentacles at rest.
“Mister ****** is going off to do some exploring,” said Perry. “The Leaping Lizzie II is perfect to find out what’s ahead.”
“Oh!” she said gaily. “I’m going with you!”
“You are?” said ******.
“Let me get Dawn.”
“Dawn?” he said.
****** and Perry looked at one another incredulously.
“I wanted some time alone,” said the cowboy pensively.
“Fiddle-dee-dee! We won’t be any bother at all,” she said fluttering down the hold.
“******. Will I never be rid of that infernal woman,” ****** snarled.
“Now, now, Mister ******. Miss Medusa is only looking out for you. After all you’re only flesh and blood.”
“And she’s a primordial cosmic force. I get it.”
Momentarily the green goddess and her faithful Lady of the Bedchamber were hauling strapped leather cases and hat boxes on deck. “What the hell is all this?” he hollered.
Her eyes met his meltingly. “Why, Mister ******, you don’t expect a lady to go around in the same old dress all the time. We’re going on an adventure. Think about it; the unexplored Amazon! Who knows what kind of beasties we’ll run into!”
“And you want to be dressed for the occasion.”
Smiling she began directing Dawn in loading the ship.
Fritz came up with a rolled map and handed it to ******. “Here you are, ******. The Amazon is due southwest. How do we stay in touch with you?”
“I’ve installed a ticker,” said Perry. “The same kind we used to communicate with Mistress Medusa when she was off conquering the moon.”
******’s eyes flared hopefully. “Yeh. Say Medusa you be in charge of communications. It’ll be your job to stay in contact with Perry and Fritz. Think you can do that?”
“Why, sure, Mister ******,” she said politely, “Um, would you help a lady aboard?”
“Sure,” he said taking her small waist and heaving her up to the hatch, her petticoats billowing in his face.
In another time and place not that far away, Remy Clarke Savage found his life with renewed purpose. Esmeralda and their now several children resting in the shaded grove while he completed yet another monumental life’s work; a machine that would far outstrip the crude Leaping Lizzie in speed and capabilities, outfitting this new vessel with several cannons of Greek fire and exploding shells.
Captain Quick, Lance and Lizzie bonding as family were wary of the zombie hordes all around them. Vampyr mermaids dancing in the inland lake while the rotting crew sang haunted shanties, hoisting steins of ghostly ale. “Ay I’ll be glad to be off this deadman’s reef,” muttered Quick. “Can’t you hurry it along, Remy? I’m wondering if we’ll live through another sunset.”
The dead pirate who’d become liaison to the mortals was Lizzie’s second maid-in-waiting; a woman with two long blonde braids that steadily grew the longer she was dead. Her brain intact and her looks not completely gone. “Ay Captain, my mateys be starving and you bunch are the only meat left on the island.”
His fears confirmed, Quick replied sharply, “I thought your bunch was living off them mermaids.”
“They’ve all turned. Not a one of them is alive or breathing. They’s all vamps and we’z all zombies. Like I was saying you bunch be the only real meals left.”
“Meals?” gulped Remy.
“Is that reason enough to hurry it along, man?” called Quick drawing his broadsword.
Lizzie and Lance drew theirs getting to either side of the Captain.
“You won’t be eating no brood of my *****, missy,” snapped Lizzie.
“Ay that we be lest you can get us raw meat and some brains.”
“Remy!” hollered the Captain as the engineer made the final adjustments.
“She’s all set to go. Hop in.”
“We appreciate your stalling, lassie, but we’s be taking our leave.”
“Aargh!” shouted the pirate woman drawing her sword. The others clambering to groggy feet, weapons in hand. Mermaids snapping sharp teeth from the water’s edge. Esmeralda carrying an armload of children scrambled inside the vessel first, followed by Remy and Lizzie.
“Com on mateys!” he cried as Quick and Lance clashed steel with the lunging pirates. Lance getting inside followed by Quick, Remy quickly shutting the hatch. The behemoth raising up on articulated legs. The dead pirates swords were no match for Greek fire as Remy unloaded a volley onto the beach setting everything ablaze.
Feeling themselves being cooked in the shell Remy manipulated his creation to walk into the water continuing on to the open sea where he propelled it away from the irreparably devastated reef crashing in under its own sodden weight. “Ay there be me home for many a yarn,” he mused. “Now it’s gone.”
“Ay the ****** place was haunted; infested with the undead. That be no home for a living man,” said Lizzie putting an arm over his shoulder. “I be liking your firepower, Remy. How long can that hold out?”
“Indefinitely. Greek fire is inexhaustible.”
“Inexhaustible you say? What say we catch up to that Green Belle and give ‘er what’s her comeuppance?”
“Ay man they’ve got the key to a treasure that’ll be rightly ours,” added Quick.

Medusa combs her snakes back,
licks her lips,
crosses her legs on throne,
giggles,
sets her eyes on mine,
then opens her mouth,
souring the precedent she sets,
as a figure of merit.

Medusa says,
You better be the shape
Sent from the top down,
Obey, because
Medusa says,
You better hit the gym
Because you ruin
****** for everyone
You better obey,
because

The pantheon
you worship,
judges you
on high.