A broken femur. A banyan tree. A dead person sitting on the roots of a banyan tree. It is possible to be dead and still sitting. It is possible to be dead and still in the process of lying. He told me about two of his near death experiences. I didn't believe either of him. I spoke of going to Alcoholics Anonymous meeting with my fathers. I would help make the coffee and take out the seats. I once went to an AA retreat with my father. It was at the beach. I read a book about being lost for 76 days at sea. I beat everyone at Jenga because so few hands around there were steady. My father, when he walks, points the toes of his feet out. He is a narcissist. After he visited me, he was unable to leave his room for five days. He pissed and shat in plastic bags. He could not leave his room. When he visited me, he walked me to school and showed me how to tie knots. He fed me the cheapest food. He made an endtable and then, later, kicked me over it. I heard something down the hall. I had my door cracked open. I had my elbows on the carpet. In the morning, my elbows were still red. He had died under a banyan tree, and we held his services at the beach. The beach did not smell good that day. I found a piece of coral that must have been launched off the top of a building.
He was not comfortable enough to do anything. A daisy. Some goldenrod. A plucked silversword. We weren't supposed to be on the golfcourse at night. We broke open glowsticks and doused balls with them. We weren't supposed to ice skate on certain days. For the first time, I got hockey skates. He was so fat, when he laughed, he moved all the bleachers. He ruined his expensive shoes to impress me. He wanted to impress an menace that was present. He considered me a menace, but his mother plead with me to call her Alberta. I refused, so she broke a porcelain dish and used it do cut the evening's steaks. We put up a tent in the basement, and, inside it, sniffed things we shouldn't have. She didn't give me a cadeau because she was too self-conscious. He had the odd sensation that he could burn it over and again. Touched an oven. Had the odd sensation. Her speech was full of dactyls. She often inserted a full stop. Not one part of our bodies ever touched, so I started to despair off the side of the interstate. I wondered when we would see each other again at first--but then I became distracted by a motorcycle accident and two women who should have died in it.
He preferred the sound of the ratchet to her moaning. Always moaning about some kind of aloneness. It was exhausting, though he took exception to any use of the word exhausting. It was horribly exciting. Was it? Was it really that horrible? It wasn't that it was horrible. It was that it was exciting--and--with that excitement came an attendant horribleness. He had a front tooth chipped. He smoked cigarettes, so he really got grime in that front tooth chip. The wearing of a straw porkpie hat will not be tolerated in this home. His hat has a dark band of sweat. He would like to know how long it would take to feel catharsis. I tell him that better eulogies are on their way. My favorite thing I have ever heard. I have never heard anything better than better eulogies are on their way. It is just the thing, and it makes me feel as though I have just thrashed a childhood friend in the warm shallows of the beach closest to the house. She gave me a switchblade. I had begged for it. I also wanted a medallion. When I was a child, over and again, I drew badges. I made gauntlets for myself out of toilet paper tubes. I hated the bell choir, but I liked the heft of the big ones when I knocked them.
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
Thursday, July 3, 2008
5 MWE a biscuit placed
An excitable child. One of them was obese and had a skin disease. She missed a few days. First, he told me he was from New York. Then Connecticut. He let me into his house to show me his dog. He had sealed it in a cardboard box. I had trouble getting out of the driveway. I was to take the three of them to the open pool hour that night. There was a child. There was an animal. We killed a wild pig. We shot a donkey first and left it in a ditch. Then, wild pigs came to tear it apart. After that, it was easy to leave a car idling while we got into a yelling session. My point was that no one should have taken a picture. To me, it was obvious that that was the wrong thing to do. She had a lankness. A leanness. I slipped and fell on my hip. I ruined the bottom of my car by going over the construction too fast. My father bought a sailboat that seemed to be made of styrofoam. We took it out on a day that was too windy. Capsized nearly right away. I found a broken car in the forest. I helped him move his books from his college office to his electricityless shack two-hundred miles upstate. He often made fun of the way I spoke. I shelved books on the first floor only to be painted green.
Wretched. Not allowed to act. Left to lift the heavy stones. Left to dispose of the grills. They sat out and sang the songs they knew. The one child had awful dandruff, and the other children encouraged him to wildly scratch his head. It was easy to moisten the kitchen rag, wind it up, and use it as a whip. What animals were out there? There were bears and salamanders. Centipedes. The child was bitten by a spider. A spider bit the child. The child's flesh decayed. Such a creature should never be released near a river tainted with dye used in the coloring of vests. The vest had a patch on its breast. We wore vests when we went to the meeting. The first thing we were supposed to recount was a tragedy. What had happened was that I had pushed another child into a canal. He came up for an instant--covered with mud and with an eel around his neck--before he was pulled by the suck back down. The thread used in the vests was gold and silver. The dye from all this ran off into the river. If a child were to drink the water, then she would probably look for the tree that has a painted white line in its branches. That is how high the flood got up over one-hundred years ago.
He had the saur about him--something huge. Something with stippled skin brought about from too much leathering. The party took place on a first floor. Most of the people looked for a back deck but never found it. She--a monster--could have been tricked into buying a moped. The seat of the moped flipped back and revealed a compartment. An unregistered pistol. An amethyst. A geode not yet split--a thunderegg. I am not one to suffer fools, she told me. I asked her where she first heard that expression. She looked insulted. I told her that I did not mean to insult her. I simply wanted to know where she had first heard that expression. She turned away from me, and I saw that she had a knot of veins raised on the back of one of her calves. That detail made me want to grab the metal instrument and bury it where no professional would be sure to find it. I told her that I do not suffer fools well. I told her that I do not suffer fools if they are asking me to join them on a lake trip. I told her that I do not suffer fools when they show me their back molars and ask me if I see anything infected or sparkling. She said she had never taken an English class. Much more interested in pathogens. Well, do not allow my presence to be pathogenic, I told her. I was a suffering fool, and I could see that she was about to reject my presence.
Wretched. Not allowed to act. Left to lift the heavy stones. Left to dispose of the grills. They sat out and sang the songs they knew. The one child had awful dandruff, and the other children encouraged him to wildly scratch his head. It was easy to moisten the kitchen rag, wind it up, and use it as a whip. What animals were out there? There were bears and salamanders. Centipedes. The child was bitten by a spider. A spider bit the child. The child's flesh decayed. Such a creature should never be released near a river tainted with dye used in the coloring of vests. The vest had a patch on its breast. We wore vests when we went to the meeting. The first thing we were supposed to recount was a tragedy. What had happened was that I had pushed another child into a canal. He came up for an instant--covered with mud and with an eel around his neck--before he was pulled by the suck back down. The thread used in the vests was gold and silver. The dye from all this ran off into the river. If a child were to drink the water, then she would probably look for the tree that has a painted white line in its branches. That is how high the flood got up over one-hundred years ago.
He had the saur about him--something huge. Something with stippled skin brought about from too much leathering. The party took place on a first floor. Most of the people looked for a back deck but never found it. She--a monster--could have been tricked into buying a moped. The seat of the moped flipped back and revealed a compartment. An unregistered pistol. An amethyst. A geode not yet split--a thunderegg. I am not one to suffer fools, she told me. I asked her where she first heard that expression. She looked insulted. I told her that I did not mean to insult her. I simply wanted to know where she had first heard that expression. She turned away from me, and I saw that she had a knot of veins raised on the back of one of her calves. That detail made me want to grab the metal instrument and bury it where no professional would be sure to find it. I told her that I do not suffer fools well. I told her that I do not suffer fools if they are asking me to join them on a lake trip. I told her that I do not suffer fools when they show me their back molars and ask me if I see anything infected or sparkling. She said she had never taken an English class. Much more interested in pathogens. Well, do not allow my presence to be pathogenic, I told her. I was a suffering fool, and I could see that she was about to reject my presence.
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
5 MWE The blackguard, the rodent, and the rockfish
The buvette was too dark to see inside. The floor smelled musty--as did all the tables. A tree grew in it. She was waspish. She had not bathed in several days, and she made sure to tell this to all of us. The floss in the mouth. He never dried his hair after he got out of the shower. He would dry off his whole body, but not his hair. He would stand in front of me. Red up his face. He said I could borrow his bike. Dilatory. Time dilated. This is when I was not intelligent enough. I had a difficult time putting three sentences together. He could not write a paragraph. He did not have an easy style--something that could be called journalism. He wore leggings that had gold thread up their sides. His father had considered jumping off. His father made a list of what he wanted and then waited for it. His father walks with his toes pointed out. When his father was young, he had spent a lot of time waiting for his siblings. He would sit on the roots of trees and eat persimmons. His father ate salvage mushrooms and canned pineapple. The man ate rice and beans and told his wife that he didn't like the smell she left on the couch. He trimmed his eyebrows too short often. He would end up next to a small cage full of too many green birds.
It was not drama. It was pageantry. I heard a sneck, so I looked up. Saw him holding a homemade weapon to my neck. I was to put gas in the van while he palmed the weapon. I was part of a performance. I was to sit and read while my friend played drums hooked up to waving amplification. Many of the people in the audience laughed at me--and not because I was reading something that was meant to be funny. They laughed at my pretension. The pretense of it. She was not talented when it came to writing. She did not write much, and what she wrote was not cohesive in the least. She was not one to touch a hot bit of metal. She heated up a knife on the electric coils of the stove. She heated it up and held it against her leg to leave a line of a mark. A roar. A rout. A rut. She was exceedingly snide as she ate dinner in the window. Just the other night, she had eaten with another person who had never driven a car into a river. Windows are down. She had an awful tattoo of a bird. She had an ounce of metal she kept in her pocket. The blind man was not aware of the tattoos he gave, but they were much sought after. Usually, the tattoo artist is the one who moves the metal pen. But this other tattoo artist refused to move the pen. He just held it, and it was up to his subjects to move under it. The people had to squirm themselves under him. He just held.
She passed me the snips because I wanted to cut something off. Essex, who could not say certain words because of injuries done to his mouth, asked aloud what kind of tree that was. The tree, which did not exist outside that one block of property near the defunct train, smelled to awful to stand under--even if you were desperate for shade. A little inane. A little insipid. I like most the writing he does after he has done something. I do not like what he writes when he just stews. He writes too thinly about the abstract. We found a can underneath the floor. I attached myself to the wall. We got the wrong bolts first and had to go back to the store. Before I died, I wanted to see a rib of mine outside my body. I wanted to have it until it yellowed. I wanted to scrape out some of my own yellow poppies and put them in my mouth since all I saw were wires. There were wires, sure, but what if I shot a flower into the sky with a rubberband. My mother had to put the rubberbands she got for our business under lock and key. My father put a nice bruise into my mother. Internal bleeding. The giving of a bizarre disease.
It was not drama. It was pageantry. I heard a sneck, so I looked up. Saw him holding a homemade weapon to my neck. I was to put gas in the van while he palmed the weapon. I was part of a performance. I was to sit and read while my friend played drums hooked up to waving amplification. Many of the people in the audience laughed at me--and not because I was reading something that was meant to be funny. They laughed at my pretension. The pretense of it. She was not talented when it came to writing. She did not write much, and what she wrote was not cohesive in the least. She was not one to touch a hot bit of metal. She heated up a knife on the electric coils of the stove. She heated it up and held it against her leg to leave a line of a mark. A roar. A rout. A rut. She was exceedingly snide as she ate dinner in the window. Just the other night, she had eaten with another person who had never driven a car into a river. Windows are down. She had an awful tattoo of a bird. She had an ounce of metal she kept in her pocket. The blind man was not aware of the tattoos he gave, but they were much sought after. Usually, the tattoo artist is the one who moves the metal pen. But this other tattoo artist refused to move the pen. He just held it, and it was up to his subjects to move under it. The people had to squirm themselves under him. He just held.
She passed me the snips because I wanted to cut something off. Essex, who could not say certain words because of injuries done to his mouth, asked aloud what kind of tree that was. The tree, which did not exist outside that one block of property near the defunct train, smelled to awful to stand under--even if you were desperate for shade. A little inane. A little insipid. I like most the writing he does after he has done something. I do not like what he writes when he just stews. He writes too thinly about the abstract. We found a can underneath the floor. I attached myself to the wall. We got the wrong bolts first and had to go back to the store. Before I died, I wanted to see a rib of mine outside my body. I wanted to have it until it yellowed. I wanted to scrape out some of my own yellow poppies and put them in my mouth since all I saw were wires. There were wires, sure, but what if I shot a flower into the sky with a rubberband. My mother had to put the rubberbands she got for our business under lock and key. My father put a nice bruise into my mother. Internal bleeding. The giving of a bizarre disease.
5 MWE the darkening gave us the most trouble
She wore a brunchcoat, so she was mostly undressed. Kudzu outside. Banana polka. Mongeese. The mongeese are out at night and the snakes in the morning. She picked me up perfunctorily. No feeling. He was seeping a little. He should be more careful when he seeps. Although many of the takers had stains on their hands, they still lined up for their chance to taste what was called the invisible sauce. He was not helpful on the dock. He dislodged his body from the wharf when he learned that his lottery ticket was made of mostly cotton. She had a collie dog, which was missing one of its front legs. She slapped her brother who never knew the difference between a solo and a duet. She slapped her brother, who was much to late to even pet an animal. The day's creature was the snake. This is what I thought: discord. I had waited for some time, but, really, I never thought that I would get to meet the person behind the hanging rug. As it turned out, he wasn't friendly. He was, however, attractive. He smelled of the lawn. I was yoked to another contestant.
The guyer joked too much with me. He was a blackbirder. He had stolen children. He put them to work on an island. The was a Phallic Rock, and the idea was to get your picture taken touching it. Or not touching it. Slouching away in disgust. Running away in distrust. We cleaned out the second floor as we did the first. We found cases of silverware. Odd things pressed in tin. Jade grapes. Lots of jade grapes. Porcelain white dogs with metallic ribbons streaming all over their body. The point was for me to hurry up. He ate the Captain's Salad for lunch. Don't be a milksop. The dead branch that's in the tree and waiting to fall is a widow maker. I let myself into my room. I went down wooden stairs. I had locked myself out of the laundry room, but I managed to let myself in with an bent apart coat hanger. There was a dictionary in the bureau and some photos from the winter previous. The Lifties had to sit in a cold shed for seven hours. They were given unlimited chemical heating pads to put in their boots and gloves. The cheapest one to buy came in thirty. We stole hair dye to dye our hair.
She was much too flossy. We ended up in a treehouse, and its floor was made of wood. Her hair smelled of cigarettes, and a sequin got caught in my teeth. There was a bright light attached to the top of the building. It projected out to a field. If we kept our bodies close to the wall of the building, then we were in the dark. She told him that he looked like a man on the back of a book. She had what was called a not to the point aspect. The room had furniture found at a thrift store in it. She had made drawings of boxes exploded. Not at all interesting. Not at all anything by pretense wrapped in what's derivative. We got on the car's hood with the intent of destroying it. Before they kissed, he was polite enough to warn her that some of his back teeth are missing. Do not be alarmed by the gaps. The drinks he bought were for himself and no one else. He had holes in his sweater, and, on the recording, his only job was to sing the cracking back up. It had been a long while since he had last driven a car. I asked to me let out. I went in the woods and found a hammock. It was made of canvas and full of needles. Someone was next to me and then under me. Maybe a little too serious. Maybe a little too pendent. Pendant?
The guyer joked too much with me. He was a blackbirder. He had stolen children. He put them to work on an island. The was a Phallic Rock, and the idea was to get your picture taken touching it. Or not touching it. Slouching away in disgust. Running away in distrust. We cleaned out the second floor as we did the first. We found cases of silverware. Odd things pressed in tin. Jade grapes. Lots of jade grapes. Porcelain white dogs with metallic ribbons streaming all over their body. The point was for me to hurry up. He ate the Captain's Salad for lunch. Don't be a milksop. The dead branch that's in the tree and waiting to fall is a widow maker. I let myself into my room. I went down wooden stairs. I had locked myself out of the laundry room, but I managed to let myself in with an bent apart coat hanger. There was a dictionary in the bureau and some photos from the winter previous. The Lifties had to sit in a cold shed for seven hours. They were given unlimited chemical heating pads to put in their boots and gloves. The cheapest one to buy came in thirty. We stole hair dye to dye our hair.
She was much too flossy. We ended up in a treehouse, and its floor was made of wood. Her hair smelled of cigarettes, and a sequin got caught in my teeth. There was a bright light attached to the top of the building. It projected out to a field. If we kept our bodies close to the wall of the building, then we were in the dark. She told him that he looked like a man on the back of a book. She had what was called a not to the point aspect. The room had furniture found at a thrift store in it. She had made drawings of boxes exploded. Not at all interesting. Not at all anything by pretense wrapped in what's derivative. We got on the car's hood with the intent of destroying it. Before they kissed, he was polite enough to warn her that some of his back teeth are missing. Do not be alarmed by the gaps. The drinks he bought were for himself and no one else. He had holes in his sweater, and, on the recording, his only job was to sing the cracking back up. It had been a long while since he had last driven a car. I asked to me let out. I went in the woods and found a hammock. It was made of canvas and full of needles. Someone was next to me and then under me. Maybe a little too serious. Maybe a little too pendent. Pendant?
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
5MWE colic was easy to pick up that day
This is your flophouse. Sorry to disappoint you, but your tapestry is not ready. You will have to wait another fifteen years. The boy was on the floor of the airplane when it rolled. He did not mean to be flippant when he answered his friend's incoherent letter. It really made little sense. He had found it taped above his door with black tape. He wound tape around his middle. He glued his containers shut because he knew he would not need them for a long time. They met in the art museum to learn about art. They watched slides and took notes. Some of the people there were artists, but others were more interesting in being in a warm place for two hours. He followed the directions closely but still became lost. He was on the pond of ice. There was a tap. A throw. He was arch. Do not clap the dog on its back. If you do, it will bite. Go over the bridge where they once threw the baby off. Ride the bus for most of the day. Ride the bust for most of the day. I would like to complain about the color of the water in the fountain that is on the corner of the vacant lot no one ever thought to manicure with anything but a spice garden. He held tomatoes he had made. She was on the dais, and tired. He was on the bench. Here, the openings of gates. He was proud of himself when he opened it. That gate.
The nepotism was as thick as gravy. Yes, that was a word that he knew. He worked at a dump, but he salvaged whatever he could. He made a plywood room next to his dump office. In this room, he put all the things that he saved. Some of these things worked fine--a bike, say. Others of these things were but a washer away from working fine. Or a twisted bit of wire. But the gravy kept him from a better position. There was a horse standing on the top of a building. We did not know how to get it down. One of us suggested slaughtering it in the sky. Right next to beams that shot down. We couldn't have choked on our meals because we couldn't make as many sounds. We were people who had the throats of chimps. The offspring of a famous person. Dive under the wave. The number was printed on the back of a plate. The number was the one that told her where she'd buy her next wardrobe. She was disappointed because it would be got on the cheap.
Remember when we had to make the formula for the babies in one bog tank? To test its warmth we put out whole arm in. I like my job. My boss is great. She takes me out to lunch. She does not mind if I am on parole. She does mind that I meet my PO at a time that does not conflict with my work. 4:30, say. She doesn't mind if I have to miss work because of court every once in a while because court is every once in a while. But she wants me to meet my PO officer at a time that does not conflict with work because I have to meet my PO so often. Your hands smell like your feet. I hope that makes you feel proud about yourself. He pays the entire fare, but he rides for only half the time. It makes him like an aristocrat amongst us. She lets us go an hour early if we've done our work for the day. I could get you such a position so long as you agree to inflate my bed and welcome me into it. I would like you to put sage in my sheets and clip the hair around my ears when I sleep.
The nepotism was as thick as gravy. Yes, that was a word that he knew. He worked at a dump, but he salvaged whatever he could. He made a plywood room next to his dump office. In this room, he put all the things that he saved. Some of these things worked fine--a bike, say. Others of these things were but a washer away from working fine. Or a twisted bit of wire. But the gravy kept him from a better position. There was a horse standing on the top of a building. We did not know how to get it down. One of us suggested slaughtering it in the sky. Right next to beams that shot down. We couldn't have choked on our meals because we couldn't make as many sounds. We were people who had the throats of chimps. The offspring of a famous person. Dive under the wave. The number was printed on the back of a plate. The number was the one that told her where she'd buy her next wardrobe. She was disappointed because it would be got on the cheap.
Remember when we had to make the formula for the babies in one bog tank? To test its warmth we put out whole arm in. I like my job. My boss is great. She takes me out to lunch. She does not mind if I am on parole. She does mind that I meet my PO at a time that does not conflict with my work. 4:30, say. She doesn't mind if I have to miss work because of court every once in a while because court is every once in a while. But she wants me to meet my PO officer at a time that does not conflict with work because I have to meet my PO so often. Your hands smell like your feet. I hope that makes you feel proud about yourself. He pays the entire fare, but he rides for only half the time. It makes him like an aristocrat amongst us. She lets us go an hour early if we've done our work for the day. I could get you such a position so long as you agree to inflate my bed and welcome me into it. I would like you to put sage in my sheets and clip the hair around my ears when I sleep.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)