A black corpse came up to his door and asked to come in 

if he couldnt see his way to let him in hed melt on the Welcome mat and the redwood slats making up the front porch

--   Ever smell a rotting corpse up close

On a hot day

it asked

this didnt seem  a negotiation

--   If I say You arent really offering me a choice  are you

Youd say You always have a choice

wouldnt you 

--   Up front  I like that you know a game is fixed

Want to toss a coin

or if youd rather  we could throw die for it

--   Die for it

Charming

Why dont you come in 

--   I thought youd never ask

as it crept in  creaking  over the sound of pliant rubber bands dragged across dry wood

and deeper yet 

                          deeper inside  it   a sound     a slosh      scarcely congealed jelly

it crept in  offering no small talk congenial comments on the mismatched furniture

incise remarks about the original art on the walls

thump      thump 

                                      thump

hobnail boots of yesteryear

  

he almost let slip  they were boots to die for  to offset the oppressive silence since their repartee at the door
but thought better of it
--   Yes  Better not to tempt fate
it said 

--   Youre reading my thoughts                                                                                 

--   No

but if places were reversed and the only thing worth admiring   perhaps  admiring  is too strong a word

if places were reversed the only thing worth   looking at   would be these boots

I always sought to afford the finest footgear I could 

I was always on my feet 

As you can see

that penchant remains 

--   Restless feet   or legs    physicians call it now

A syndrome

--   I call it a crock

Too much booze too little sleep 

I call it too much time watching over my shoulder
  

HA

for the inevitable

Nothing 

--   No

No  and I dont dare offer you a seat I dont want you to sit

--   Afraid Ill spill something you cant clean out of the upholstery

--   Exactly

--   Growing impatient

Not a good talent for a good host

--   A host suggests an invitation

No choice is not an invitation no matter how you see it   its eyes looked like dusty raisins

if you can see 

--   Ah  finally beginning to look me over  Good   Look real good take a good look   Take me in   Im not something youll ever forget

Or dare remember

--   At last

Something we can agree upon                                      

--   This neednt be distasteful

--   I dont even know what this is 

Closest I can imagine is Dickens A Christmas Carol  if youre familiar  This boy is Ignorance. This girl is Want.  

They are Man’s.

--   Dickens

Yes

I recall

Spirits

Ghosts

Do you think I am a spirit

--   No

I think youre dead

You know youre dead

Otherwise you wouldnt have threatened the welcome mat porch or my upholstery

--   Cant fool you

--   Nor can I fool you

Your  business   if you would

I find myself

                     fascinated

--   No business

Seeing how the other half   ha  lives

is all

I do it on occasion

Rise out of the earth after laying in it for   Time

Time   a funny attribute dont you think

of living  I mean

Rushrush
   

                    Rush

And for all the rushing 
                                     not really going anywhere

so surprised when death comes No matter ones age

Too soon Not soon enough 

Assuming death stops them 

Some   yes

Others

No Obviously

I like to think of myself as a sober   reckoning    

that might have otherwise

    

escaped you

        

       

I havent escaped you

--   No

--   Good  

I didnt think I would

--   This leaves us          where

--   Where

Here

Then elsewhere

But a stop

--   A stop

--   I thought Id be welcome   but a short while

Abruptly welcome 
                                                                                                                                 

It stood in the livingroom

he before it

then 

         as casual as a corpse may

it craned its neck  turned its head  appearing to look around through eyes he knew no longer saw anything

It is a nice home   A far cry better  than a mouth full of dirt

Youll remember I said so                                                                                                

wont you

--   I will

--   I will

Thats why Im here

It turned back towards the door

Would you mind

the door  it meant the door

--   Yes

he opened the black metal screen door

it shrieked as it usually did

--   You wont oil it will you

--   No  It seems its nature  so I dont

--   Yes

Wise not to tamper with anythings nature

It strode past him onto the Welcome mat the redwood slats  stepped down to bitumen drive

without turning back It raised its hand  a departing salute

the clouds broke

shards of brilliant sunlight snapped off the wetted drive into his eyes

he brought his hand up to shade their reflection

the black corpse was gone

momentarily

                      he froze  wondering if he conjured a waking dream  his hand still upraised

he didnt

he concluded

he waved

to nothing

and hoped nothing recognised his salute

evening,  Saturday,  25  4. 15 

 1150,  Monday,  27  4. 15 

Everything begins
                   is Begat(tossing Biblical language around like sloppy baled hay  randomly  either feed or ground-covering)

Begat by an idea(an id - each  id - piece  odd - piece  a flimsey codspiece)

then terribly overthrown by cringing lists outlines  then more detailed outlines
generating clever powerpoints
red pindots cast from across darkened rooms by a slim penlight
removed from its fit  nicely  between an array of fountain pens and mechanical pencils held in a vinyl geek breast pocket protector

Hurrah  Enthusiasts  Take a bow

though hed rather hold his ideachion tight

still ramshackle

and build off it as things evolved presented themselves  spinning off other orbits  ad hoc 

he knew better than making a hard list or attempting to adhere to one

and rather than drawing hard lines

he kept things in flux

because  tragically  lists were often lost or  accidentally  left behind
                                                                          and as Time

fashioned itself as a critical element to the planning and execution
for these lists  lost or left behind

someone had to suffer its degression and learn to neigh meh-meh like a bearded scapegoat

and assume  everyone involved  their sins iniquities and transgressions

then according to Moses(Bible busting out again) set free to roam the wilderness as an Azazel goat

neighing meh-meh wasnt a forte he wanted

Everything begins

  

                       how it ends is up to you

1575,  Saturday,  25  4. 15