Fuck its a slow night !
Mike said from across the table nursing his coffee inbtween passing the flask between us under the table.
Jack you pick up many fares tonight?
Bout the usual drunks bud but no its not been the best night .
Honestly I was happy bout the down time I was nursing hangover and truly didnt feel like dealing with peoples shit .
Listening to Mikey was bad enough he loved to ramble on about old stories and hookers he had nailed in his cab .
I swear I think sometimes he lived in that son of a bitch.
He certanly dressed like he did .Wearing the same clothes from last week .
You guys ever actually eat or do you just exist off dirty stories cigarettes and coffee.
Hey Susan you know I only come here to be in your presence .
Yeah right Jack hey you got anything in that flask you passing back and forth?
Sure do sweetheart I said as she leaned over the table she took a hit from the flask damn near emptying it.
Id care but I was to busy looking at her cleavage.
Hey leave something for us bitch Mike piped up.
Yeah well thats the cost of your buddy here looking down my shirt .
And what wonderful view it is sugar I said as she refilled my coffee totally ignoring Mike as usual .
What the hell man you wanna piece of ass I can tell you.where to look but dont let that bitch take all are booze Jack.
Funny thing is its never are booze when I buy it Mickey.
Fuck you man you know I would share if I had a bottle .
Yeah I really cant say bud never seen you ever have one you prick.
Yeah fuck you man.
Mike never could handle being picked on.
Alot of loud mouths couldn't .
Mike was one of many but he was a good laugh on a ocassion and kinda grew on you after awhile course so does a tumor so he wasnt exactly my favorite person in the world.
Course I never did like people .
I saw all there worst sides driving them the drunks least were semi honest .
The yuppies never paid you any mind you were there ride nothing more.
Shit Jack I ever tell you bout that couple a few weeks ago I picked up?
I knew mikes silence wouldnt last long.
No you didnt .
Hell man so I do a pick up at the Raven you know that dive off Atlantic?
Yep been there many a time .
Well anyways I pick up this couple let me tell you from they were making out on the sidewalk I knew I was in for a show .
The chicks got this hot as shit little black cocktail dress on .
Fucking guy barely can tell me the address cause the chicks all over him.
So I head to the address well no sooner Im heading down the road I look back in the review and this bitch is going down on him I mean she's putting a Linda Lovelace to shame back there.
No shit well I know your demented ass was happy beats a drunk passing out in the backseat pissing himself .
No shit sherlock mike replied .
Anyways Im like fucking enjoying the fuck out of this fare .
So much so a figure why the hell not jerk off.
Are you Fucking nuts?
How the hell you going to drive and jack off truly you are one sick fuck Mikey.
Shit hell man I'm a professional brother unlike you .
Really you got to loosen up and live or this job will drive you nuts .
Yeah like your sane I thought to myself .
Anyways she's back there going to town like she working a porno scene .
Everything's feeling good but I just kind of lost myself for a moment
Swerved hit the damn curb .
And I hear this guy fucking almost scream.
See when I hit the curb she bout bit his dick off.
Fucking funny shit the guys yelling get me to the fucking hospital she's keeps telling him she's sorry.
But thats not all of it he's going off cause he cant figure out what he's going to tell his wife .
Aint that some shit and to top it off the bastard didnt even tip me.
I cant imagine after almost giving him sex change why he wouldnt want to tip you Mickey.
Oh like I'm some asshole for getting worked up watching this chick go to town on this guy.
Okay hotshot being your so more noble than me what would you had done so differently .
I sat looked at this fellow cabbie trying not to laugh.
Honestly mike .
I would have pulled over and left the meter running till she finished .
I never was much at multi tasking like yourself .
Fuack you Jack I heard Mike say as I left a tip on the table and was on my way out.
Be careful out there Jack I herd Susan say.
Dont worry sugar I always am .
Stay crazy .
The short windows behind me are open, veined with Indiana warm. I’m standing inside a small home. There, in a swirl of questions is laughter and it erupts like an avalanche descending at high speed down a mountainside and I’m bursting with happiness. My coat folded over a back chair. I’ve started drinking coffee. First time in 42 years. But now I am drinking something sweet. My brain hurts less. Can’t find one of my socks. My mouth tastes like death. I can see the dark outlines of eyelids. A gust front is a region of warm air that lies immediately ahead of an advancing storm. I no longer prepare for the storm, but I do look for warmth. When dark eyes descend onto a body and differences collide it can create harmony. The day before, conversation buzzed around me like a cloud of shiny flies. Every now and then one lands on my nose, and I look up from my plate to find everyone looking at me. But not here. Not in this room. Those initial words of a yard sale would shatter barriers and create a predetermined constructed scenario.
People say that your experiences mold and sculpt you.
It's as if the stories and tales of your life shape you until all that's left behind is a beautiful marble or bronze masterpiece,
a statue made from chiseling away bits and pieces of stone.
But you know what no one ever talks about?
Those bits and pieces of chiseled away stone....like memories and stories meant to be forgotten.
I'm sure I'm not alone when I say there are chipped away pieces, memories, that I'd like to forget.
Jagged edges of stone, painful memories taken from the soul and heart.
Like the time I lost my virginity, 15 years young, to an older boy who used and abused me for years, telling me no one would ever love me again.
Like the time my supposed best friend told me to kill myself and that the world would be better off without me. Then years later asking me to be a bridesmaid at her wedding.
Like the time I was at a party, too drunk to stand, so I lied down on a bed, when a boy I barely knew walked in, kept forcing his hands up my shirt when I passed out. Even when I woke up and told him to stop, he wouldn't. He passed out with his pants off, and everyone asked me what I did to him.
Like the whole nine months I grew a beautiful baby boy inside me, only to leave the hospital empty handed with a broken heart and a shattered soul.
Of course, there are also pieces of chiseled away stone that I would wish to keep, memories I long to hold on to.
Edges so clean and smooth, memories that broke freely from my body.
Like the time I fell in love with a boy, and the way his fingers traced my naked back, and his lips kissed every inch of my sweating body.
Like the time I gazed into my infant son's eyes for the very first time, and the pure joy I felt at knowing someone so special, and that he came from my very own body.
Like the time I learned to sing. Really, truly sing, and gained enough confidence to share and sing for the ones I loved, and even for strangers who took the time to listen.
All memories and experiences meant to be forgotten, chiseled away, leaving behind the masterpiece meant to be your life.
The problem is, I don't think we are the ones who forget the chipped away stones.
It's every one else that does.
Ink crawling on aged paper
With tales and stories able to
Take you away from this
Under your fingerprint lies the
Feel of countless emotions and ideas
Blessed by imagination.
Sweet aroma fills your lungs with a
Breath of crisp pages and
Sacred smoke from an eternal flame of inspiration.
Stains from shed tears caused by
Moments of bittersweet.
United as one with the names
Printed on a page.
Are their emotions mine too?
For they have become a
Key to a door of escape -
Escape from reality.
There are so many lives and so many stories
so many ways in which you could die for glory
so many kisses and so many stars
so many ways in life to discover who you are
there are so many accomplishments, and yet it remains to see
if you can truly love the life you live
or if your not the person you think you should be
I look inside myself
and saw a great white tree
the branches were twisting
made up of pale glowing tendrils
they would open to a shining star
and each star was a story I had consumed
some were bright and flashing
and others swirled behind a smoky shroud
as I passed by these stories I could feel them
I was sure I felt the sting of a Serket
or the faint howling of a Dorocha brushing my ear
when I came to the deep heart of this tree
there was a wide open space in the trunk
and as I entered I saw Excalibur
and I was sure I had felt myself wade into the waters of Avalon
Wild animals came out on your mouth
Chasing me like hell, plunging in my ear and out
Their screeches and roars put myself in doubt
Untameable beasts attacking my paper feet
I want to fight it, so much power it makes me retreat
It gains strength as I cower
Sharp claws and jagged fangs like silver
Overwhelmed by its power
Leaving me like a statue and find myself in shudder
I stood, straining eyes and ears for the faintest stir
I don't have any choice and its coming near
It's time to break your stories
Those stories are fake lousy as cake
It may sound sweet only fools should taste
Truth will decapitate your monster
Like a shot gun fired at a super closed range
It can be forgotten yet cannot be erase
Those teeth and claws will leave trace
A scar of battle that clings on your race