June 24

I'm rolling in my bed
I can't breathe in this heat
You're under the sheets
I'm alone

My head itches
I can't find my hands
It's so dark
It must still be day

I can't see you
You're under the bed
You're hiding
From one little word

My neck is wet
And now, my pillow
The stink of pollen
You're under the floor

Like an ice cube
Cracks in water
I open my eyes
The fever is gone

Overwrought Analogy

So there's this party, but they're running low on drinks. So now everyone lines up, holding on to tiny, paper cups and stands patiently waiting their turn. It's really hot. The sun's out, beaming down. No one wants to leave the party so they all just stand there in the line.

I'm way toward the back. I honestly doubt they'll have anything let by the time I get up there. I wander out of the line and everyone's looking at me like I'm crazy. They don't say anything, though. Maybe they're hoping with one less guy, they might get two drinks.

So I get a chance to explore around a bit. Sure, I'm thirsty as hell, but maybe there's something else to do.

The house is beautiful. There's this big garden with all these flowers in bloom and bright green vines climbing up a trellis. I go back to the line to tell some people about it. They nod and smile. It's nice and all, but it's hot and they're thirsty. They don't want to risk their spot in the line. I can't really blame them, If I was closer to the counter, I wouldn't want to leave either.

So I wander away and check out the other side of the house. Holy Shit! There's a pool. I mean, it's not well kept or anything, but it's a pool. In fact, there's a layer of algae scum floating around the top, and the water is grey and murky. Still though, hot day, pool. I bend down and touch it. It feels cool.

Well damn, I got nothing better to do. I dip my whole head in. It's awesome. The water is all tingley like it's carbonated. I feel great. I pull my head out and use my shirt to towel my face. I have to go tell everyone.

So I run back and my hair is dripping all over the place. I'm telling them about the pool and how it's dirty and weird, but awesome. The mutter and shift their weight around nervously. They still don't want to leave, but a good head soak sounds like a good idea.

I'm begging and dancing around, trying to convince them. Finally we work out a system where a few people stay behind to watch the line. The rest write their names on their cups and place them on the ground, saving their spots.

So I lead a whole bunch of people to the other side of the house. When they see the pool, some of them laugh out loud, like it's a joke. But no, I'm serious. I really like it. I dive right in with all my clothes. It feels even better with my whole body in there. I fucking love this.

I swim to the surface to tell them. A clump of algae sticks to my face and dangles like a booger. I'm smiling and asking them to try it out, jump in. They look at my face and slowly inch away. They don't want to lose their place in line. They hurry back.

I swim for an hour or so, then clean up and head back to check on everyone. They don't see me at first. I over hear them talking.

"Can you believe that guy?"
"Yeah, what an asshole, trying to ruin the party,"
"He's just upset because he knew he wasn't going to get a drink. He wanted to ruin it for all of us,"
"God, what a creep,"
"Hey I bet he had his pants off in there. I bet he was going to grope people who went swimming,"
"He probably had his dick out,"
"What a pervert,"

A Little Tradition, Part Four

He stares down at his cards, then over to hers. She sits and smiles back. He counts the points again, running the numbers through his thick mind. He definately won. The room is very quiet.

Eventually she scoots her chair away from the table and walks over to the fridge. She pulls out a silver tray with an array of tiny jars.

"I have some mustards here, if you'd like them," she lays the tray on the table. She folds her hands against her waist. She doesn't exactly know how this sort of thing normally plays out. The beast places his cards on the table. He looks around the room in a daze.

A thought leaps to her mind, "Perhaps you want to take some home for later," She shuffles over to a cupboard.

"Here we go," she pulls out a small stack of plastic tubs with colorful lids. "If you want you could save some..."

He lunges from the table, cupping her skull in one palm and dashing it against the counter top. A single sickening crack from her neck and her body falls limp. His huge, corded arms twist and wrench the corpse. He tears her wrinkled, feeble arms from the socket. He flings it across the room. He tears the spotted, cotton dress from her skin and leaves it in a heap.

Her flesh is dry and stringey. He gnaws on one of her legs. He doesn't really chew or swallow, just biting over and over. The tang of her blood fills his mouth. He spits her out onto the floor.

Screaming, incoherent, he smashes his fists on the table. He spills the gruel on the floor. He throws the teapot against the wall. He tears at the walls and breaks all the windows. He tears up each of her stupid playing cards. He wrenches the door off the hinges and leaves it on the front step.

He walks out the door and down the street. Maybe somewhere else in the world there is another deep dark forest with a cave he can fill with bones. Maybe he'll never find it. Maybe the National Guard will surround him tanks and shoot him. Maybe he can die after all.

Either way, who the fuck cares.

The Black Out

"When you sleep, it's like you die,"
she smiles into the night
she likes the idea

"The brain shuts down the body,"
she's flirting, but not with me.
she remembers the hospital
and her body filling up with blood

"Then the brain shuts down itself,"
the doctors were going to send her home
a dozen tests and scans
they couldn't find the problem

"That's when you really start to dream,"
she was in so much pain
losing so much blood
delirious

"The brain goes crazy, off the charts,"
in her long, troubled life
she never felt more calm
than on that bed

A Little Tradition, Part Three

Every year after, she returned to the dark parts of the woods to play cards with the beast. Every year he would lose every game and bid reluctant farewell to the girl. For her part the girl did not stay a girl very long.

And so now, many years later, the girl has become an old woman with her own little house and a tidy garden around the back. She busies herself about the house, a pot of that same putrid gruel bubbling away on the range top. She lines up a plate of crackers, opens the shades to let some more light in, and straightens her table cloth. She sighs, stands back and looks over her kitchen. That was it, then. Everything done. She glances at the clock. He's running a bit late. That is quite unusual.

Just as she begins to worry, the doorbell rings. He stands in the doorway, still in his red work smock, sheepishly pulling a wooly hat from the tousled fur of his head. She opens the door and he smiles. She waves him in. He dips his head under the frame and enters.

They both sit for a little while before anything is said. She has a little, white, wire-frame chair for herself. He sits on a heavy, wooden stump dragged in from the garden.

She offers him a bowl of gruel, but he says he's not very hungry. She nibbles on a few crackers and begins to shuffle. He rubs his great claws together and waits patiently. His eyes keep rolling over the cupboards and lineoleum flooring. He's still not used to such modern household fixtures. He's been living in a small apartment downtown and isn't quite sure how to feel comfortable there. The landlord keeps yelling at him about the piles of mousebones.

She deals out a few hands. When he touches the card, his shoulders seem to dip, as if he can finally relax. A pleased expression floats over his face like a serene mist. He deftly flips the cards around his long claws. Even though he always loses, at least he's gotten better at holding the cards.

Which, by the way, showed a very respectable design of blue paisley. They tried playing with another deck of nudie cards years ago, for the sake of tradition. Both the girl and the monster felt uncomfortable, and it was never mentioned again.

"I'm hunting for an eight of spades," says the old woman.

"I have none," the monster grins and adds an enthusiastic, "Hunt the Jungle!"

The woman smiles and draws a card from the deck. She knew life hadn't been easy for him since the eviction. He called her up, all teary one morning. The city had rezoned the forest, tore the whole thing down. She helped him move and find a job downtown. He's been stocking groceries, third shift, at a supermarket. He's quite good at it, and the managers are fond of him, as they mostly just pay him in spoiled food and moldy bread.

He takes his turn, licking his fangs and flipping eagerly through his hand. She stands and starts a pot of tea. Over by the stove, the bubbling gruel smells just as terrible as the beast prefers, but if he's not going to have any... She plops a lid on top, blocking the heady fumes.

He lays down a pair, flashing his big, gleaming teeth. She nods and sits back down to check her own hand.

"I think I'm going to get you this time," he gloats.

"We'll see, won't we?"

"I've already scored many points. I think I will win,"

"I might have a great hand right here," she taps the cards with her fingers, "I might just be fooling you,"

The beast smirks at that. She had done that to him before, letting him crawl ahead just a bit before crushing him. Not this time, though, he was sure of it.

She returns to the stove to pour the tea. He draws another card from the pile and sorts it through his hand. She carries a tray to the table. She has little sugarcubes in a little saucer and everything. The monster doesn't like tea, but he loves sugarcubes.

She takes her turn, stumped again. He calls for a card, which she relents. He cheers and lays down a set of four.

"Oh look at you," she's quite impressed.

He chuckles, draws another card, and barks in triumph. Another set laid upon the table.

"Ok, your last turn," he bears his smirk again. He watches her cards, imagining what she might play.

She winks and lays her entire hand down. He gasps at the sight. She has nothing. Not a single pair.

After all these years, he's finally beaten her.

Orpheus

A drop of cold sweat on your tits
Copper and salt
And you just want to get to sleep

Once upon a time
A woman died on her wedding night
A man walked into hell to find her

You're pushing down on me
Heavy breathing
Just getting it over with

And this man went to the palace
With only a song to offer
And the king shed a steel tear

You roll over in darkness
Closing your eyes
You pretend to sleep

And the man lead his ghost of a wife
Back to the world
And she followed quietly

This night simply adequate
and it pleases you
It is enough

He could not wait. He turned to look
And her spirit fell away into darkness
She lingered long enough to say 'Goodbye'

You do not notice
When I slip out of the bed
And leave.

A Little Tradition, Part Two

They played all sorts of card games that night. The girl taught the monster how to play King's Corners, Crazy 8's, and Go Fish. The monster taught the girl how to play Hunt the Jungle, which was a special card game that monsters like to play. It was very similar to Go Fish, which the monster seemed to like a great deal. He acted a little upset when the girl knew so many games and he didn't, so it might've been very likely that he made up the game right there, but the girl didn't want to say anything.

They played for hours and had a lovely time. The girl won every single hand. She was very good, but more importantly, the beast was quite terrible. Still, he grinned and pawed throught he cards eagerly, slicing more than a few in half. By the end of the night, little chopped up pictures of naked ladies littered the floor of the cave.

"Well," sighed the beast, "I'm hungry now,"

She just beamed back at him with a pleasant smile.

"So, uhh," he continued, "I'm going to eat you,"

"But I won," she replied.

"Yeah," he agreed, "But I'm still going to eat you,"

"Well that's kind of silly," she insisted, "Think about it. A game is more fun when you play for something. I won, so I should go home,"

He shook his head, "Nope. I'm hungry and I've been looking forward to eating you. So that's going to happen," He growled and loomed over her.

"Sure," she nodded, not at all phased by his steaming breath and bubbling drool, "But how much tastier would I be after you won a game,"

He sat back, rattled by this interesting notion.

She continued, "Think about it: We're playing, it's a tough match, you lay down the winning hand, I cry out in defeat, you cheer in victory and gobble me up!"

His eyes bulged at the thought, "That sounds great,"

"And you would waste all of it if you ate me right now,"

He scratched his forehead at the thought. He wasn't used to thinking very far into the future, but the girl knew all sorts of fun games. She might be right about this.

"Okay," he said, picking up the few cards left, "Let's play again, I'm hungry,"

"Well I'm tired, so I'm going home to sleep,"

He slammed an angry fist on the table. She turned around with a frown.

"I'm too tired to play right now. But we'll play again this time next year. If you win, you can eat me," she said, simply.

"You'll come back?"

"I promise,"

A Little Tradition, Part One

She lets the leaves blow right in to her kitchen. There's a bit of a pile forming under the cupboard. The little, fresh, yellow and green ones mix in with the brittle, old, brown ones. She doesn't seem to mind. She has a visitor on the way and lot's to do before he comes.

Once upon a time, a little girl took the long way home from school. She was a terribly naughty girl. She talked back to her teachers. She played out in the forest till very late. She'd get mud all over her nicest dresses.

And that day she had mud all over her dress out in the dark part of the forest where she was not supposed to go. She had made a whole family of dolls from bits of rags and sticks lying around the woods. She conducted silly plays and dramas with her cast of twigs. She even sung along for all the musical parts. After rehearsing for many hours, she felt she had prepared quite a great show. She was sad that no one was nearby to write it all down. But the sun had set by then, and the dark part of the forest became especially dark. The little girl tried to run home.

She scrambled through the brush and the dry branches. She climbed between bushes and over fallen logs. The forest seemed strange indeed at night and the girl ecame very lost. She could hear the scratch and patter of animals crawling around, curious to see the naughty little girl out in the dark of the woods. The girl grew very frightened indeed and fell onto her bottom. She was so scared, she hardly noticed when a great, furry arm scooped her up and carried her away.

Deep in a slimy cave, torches flared to light. In the flickering orange glow, the girl could make out stacks of greasy bones in the corners and a great stone slab, like a table right in the middle. In the shadows just beyond the torchlight, moved a terrible beast. He might have been a huge bear or gorilla, but the skin of his face had been sliced away, leaving angry red muscle twiching over a pair of eyes, burning red with hunger. His long, clawed fingers held a bleached, human skull like a bowl. He slurped some kind of putrid gruel from the inside and licked the slime from his teeth.

He leaned in to hiss, "I'm going to eat you next, little girl,"

Somehow, the fear had passed out of the girl's head. She smiled right back, "It looks like you already have your dinner,"

He looked down at the gruel, "Oh this, it's just a snack," He tapped his finger against the bowl and thought for a few seconds, "I made it this morning before I knew I'd be eating you,"

She nodded helpfully.

"I didn't want it to go to waste," he added, "But I'll be hungry in just a moment and then I'll gobble you up!" He curled his lips around his fangs and leaned in to stare at the little girl as he said those last few words.

"Well, what will we do in the meantime?"

"Hmm?" the beast sat back on his haunches.

"Who knows how long it will take to be hungry again. I'd hate to get bored,"

The beast furrowed his brow, totally unprepared for this sort of behavior.

She quickly continued, "You must have something to do around here, a game to play?"

The beast turned his great, shaggy body and looked around. He picked a chunk of mouse out of his teeth with one long, bent claw. The girl folded her hands and waited patiently. The great creature grumbled and shifted his bulk to the other side.

"I've got some cards," he mumbled finally.

"Perfect!" she beamed at her captor.

He lurched forward and dug through one of the piles of bones. After a moment, he dragged out a back pack with bits of a backpacker still sticking to the straps. He dug through the contents till he found an old pack of playing cards.

The girl clapped and smiled. She dusted off a spot on the stone slab so they could play.

The beast held the cards reluctantly, "I really must apologize. These are the only cards I have and they're a bit..." he grumbly voice trailed away.

"Oh, I'm sure they'll do fine. They're just cards,"

"Well, they're kind of rude," he tried to explain.

She rolled her eyes and marched forward, plucking the pack from his claws. Each card in the set had pictures of naked ladies.

"This is nothing, I've seen where my cousins hide a whole, big box full of magazines with naked ladies,"

"Really?" The beast seemed very interested, "Do they hide it in the woods?" he asked, his rumbling voice filled with hope.

"No, they live in New Jersey,"

The beast nodded and sighed.

The girl shuffled the cards into neat piles on the stone. She cocked her head to one side and asked, "So what do you want to play?"

Crawling All Over, Part Two

The office is kinda standard, as far as offices go. Cheap desk, papers, letters. There's a shelf with all sorts of books that must impress certain kinds of people. Really, this place could be like a city office. Like maybe the fire marshall's assistant or commissioner for sewage or whatever. I don't know. But it's a priest's office. And he agreed to meet me right away. I think the doctor called ahead.

I don't normally like people talking about me behind my back, but maybe it's okay this time, because it's a doctor and a priest.

So he's got grey hair and he looks really skinny. He's wearing all black with that white collar thing. He's touching his fingertips together and asking me about my troubles. I'm pretty sure he already knows, but maybe he wants to hear it from me. I can appreciate that, I just wish he could cut the crap. But, of course, he's a priest so crap is his whole business, right?

I tell him about the spiders and my troubles sleeping and how I'm probably going to get fired. He's nodding his head and looking right at me. He's making these... these fucking noises like he understands my problems. He's like cooing at me. Cooing like I'm a fucking child. Maybe that shit gets the church-ladies all wet but...

Nah wait, he's trying to help. I have to stay calm. The lack of sleep is making everything kind of crazy in my head.

And he asks me about my faith. I should have expected that. Of course that's going to be his opener, it's his whole gimmick. I'm starting to regret coming down here.

But then, he's talking about stress in life and frustrations of responsibility. He's talking about family and things just start to sink in. Maybe that's how the church works, they have a really solid spiel, let me tell you. This little lecture must put a lot of asses in the pews. Maybe it might be nice to believe in all that stuff. Maybe if I was a different kind of person, I could get into it. Thing is, I was never really raised to believe in anything. I don't know if you can change that about a person.

No, this isn't going to work. This guy is barking up the wrong tree. I thank him for his time and I'm about to leave when the guy hops up and starts begging. I mean, he's really getting into it, slapping his desk, eyes tearing up. He's going all out. Says he wanted to baptize me, wash me in the blood of christ.

I can't help but laugh, really. He's taking this so seriously. I put a few eyedrops in and tell him no. So then he starts talking about my kid. Like I should sign up for his bullshit for their sake. Like I need Jesus to protect them from me.

Protect my kids from me. Can you believe that?

So yeah, I was mad. I grab him by the collar and shake him a little. He's really light, weighs nothing. I push him up against the wall and I'm shouting something. The whole time, he's chanting at me. I think it's in Latin. He's trying to get his cross out of his shirt and hold it up like this is some vampire movie.

I just... the whole thing got out of hand. The way he was looking at me and chanting, I just got so mad I put my hand on his throat. I want him to shut up, but what I'm really doing is choking the shit out of him. And it's easy too, like he's made out of balsa wood.

So his hands flail around and claw at my arms and I don't even fucking care. Fuck everything else, honestly. I'm already fucked. I'm starting to enjoy the thought of killing this smug asshole when he tears a hole in my arm.

It's weird. I look down and there's a hole in my arm. He punched through it, stabbing down with that cross in his hands and the skin falls away like paper. It didn't even hurt. I didn't feel a thing. Inside my arm, it's all dark and empty, like I've been hollowed out.

I feel that tickle again, the skittering on my skin and a thousand goddamn spiders come pouring out, covering the priest, stinging him. They can't be real spiders, though. They chew and chomp away at the priest. Soon, he's just a red lump of chewed up meat and those things crawl back into my body. It feels good, a comfort. I feel strong and whole.

Those things weren't crawling around on my skin, but under. Looking at what they did to the priest, they probably messed up my innards too. I might be more spider than man at this point. Somehow I don't mind. Somehow I feel pretty good about it.

Maybe I'll go take a nap and drive out for the visitation after all. I can't wait to see my ex. I hope she brings her lawyer along too.