All around him he had his shit stacked

some of it was stacked keenedged

                                                                like skyscrapers erected in the city to the east       

that he could make out if the lake breeze was blowing out

                                                                                                      usually the citys fetid air   

yellow-bruised like bad fruit  by exhaust fumes and factory emissions  shut that down

but on a really  really good day  he could make them out

on hot days  if a really good day

the skyscrapers quivered on the horizon like Indian smoke signals

                                                                                      he wondered what would they say     

if he could read smoke

his reading comprehension was lousy

he argued with his teacher that he read for the beauty of the text  and the thought it imparted

it was hard for him to tolerate English in junior high  for some ungodly reason it tried to create a mill of him   separating seed from chaff   and he wasnt going to become a machine by force of a pedagogy of grades 

    

some of his shit was stacked precariously

                                                                   appearing as if a piqued fart might toss it over on its face onto the worn parquet and the threadbare throw rugs under his feet

he stacked how he stacked it according to what was riffing through his head

it was of no matter to him how disparate it might appear to someone outside of his head

if they thought they could possibly know what made him tick

Christ even he didnt  all he knew was that the mad confusion made sense to him  and thats 

what mattered  

                                           they outside had better hope he let the ticking continue

cuz if a day came and he ceased ticking 

                                                                                            

                                               the bombd go off
and itd make those cowardly IEDs detonated in foreign countries look like childsplay
                               

theirs were intended to maim

fuck bodies and minds

although it was the minds they truly wanted to fuck  to fuck em raw and then roll off to a side smoke a cigarette   and admire the gore happening in behind their wideopen vacant 

black eyes

                                                                                                                       

eyes
evacuated by religion
theres nothing illlogical or irrational about religion
  

a bundled up  strapped in  straitjacket of Faith 

                                                                                       Faith   where Reason goes to die 

Faith   where you throw up your arms  your useless hands    and surrender 

                                                                                       hoping they dont shoot you first

one would assume theyd allow you a thread of hope

at the very least he hoped they wouldnt hear the click of the hammer drawn back into its firing position

 

if his ticking stopped

the annihilation would be severe 

scorched minds                                                                                         

                          wide black plebeian eyes

                                                                                    

it seemed to him it was time to learn what we failed to learn earlier

if he could stuff all that shit stacked around him into his head

                                                                                                                if                       

a mighty big word for two letters

if  --  thered be no stacks 

                                         if  --  thered be no helter skelter

but then he wouldnt be who he was

 

he needed the stacks like the atmosphere needed trees to scrub CO2 for Oxygen

2246,  Sunday,  15  6. 14

1459,  Sunday,  22  6. 14