there was a barcode

stuck to the end of his cock

it wasnt a Fresh-By  a Birth or Expiration date

it was # 0667528744757

                      $5.00

$5.00

shameful

if someone had the keen imagination to affix a tacky sticker to the head of his cock 
thats it  five bucks

hell  hed kick down five bucks just to learn how the tagger managed the sleight-of-hand

 

he was feeling like a bit of a scientific experiment   like he might have been lifted up during the night in his sleep  or in an induced sleep

and explored by Aliens                                                                                                               

or impressive Churchgoers

  

there was no way to tell                                                                                                          

                                            he was a heavy sleeper and was intoxicated with dreams   

filled with enormous red yellow and black fires burning in every direction he looked    

fires undiminished  burning in full throat and fury  their fuels impossibly not rendered    

not the sailboats at sea or tied to a quay  not the automobiles sprawled on crying and 

sputtering tarmac  stuck fast by black-taffy tires afire   not the shimmering walls of trees 

or singular plumes throwing off swarms of fireflies ash and sodden pitchblack smoke   

not the wood buildings shaking like epileptics  tipping their tinroofs like bright shining fedoras  

or mad locomotives and traincars snaking on ochre rails  and the fires themselves  their magnificent whirling sheens  painting and marbling the faces and bodies of onlookers as if 

their skins were made of paraffin   and they marveling as intently as he

he woke and pulled on his dirty buttonfly jeans to work the fruit trees in the yard  turned the copious compost  watered and tendered the young plants to assure their best starts to flourish 

he cleaned and refilled the halfdozen hummingbird feeders

                                                                                                     then stomping his work boots 

to shed soil  slapping the dirt from his knees and thighs and seat  he and she jumped into the truck and drove over to the Mercantile for groceries  the butchers for fresh meat

they stopped for a coffee and talked over the stained white ironstone mugs

somewhere in there 

or prior

he was tagged

he wasnt one to pay attention to discomfort or pain  both lubricated his sense of presence                                                                                                                                        being  in a word  alive

small ticks between the GONGs of waking and falling asleep

spice for his food  a clean glass jar for his drink

tagged

somewhere in there

he hadnt a clue 

she hadnt a clue

but she laughed something fierce and said she was sorry when she recognized the  

consternation in his face

then

laughed again and again something fierce

she even laughed when they went to bed and he nuzzled the back of her neck

wondering  over her shoulder  across her dimpled cheek  if hed remembered to wear protection

--   Yah love  Five bucks worth

1557,  Day-Between-Two-Ts,  18  6. 14

1423,  Sunday,  22  6. 14