human beings are so fucking
imaginativehe had to hand it to someone he
wished he could hand it in toto to its Maker but then thats the beauty of anonymity they cant be held responsible for their
actions and likely prefer not being held responsible for their actions or made
to hold it firmly in their hands whosoevers
beauty this was probably wasnt going to return to the scene of the crime ahno they werent unfortunately he was led by chance to bear
witness to their asswork he wasnt tempted
to say handiwork their hands had nothing
to do with it except wipe their ass for by
the trajectory of the spatter its physics was quite remarkable it appeared
to his unpractised eyes that they had been unsteady shiftingmotioning while
shitting and by its exceptional arc of splash
and spatter it flowing over three concrete steps he had confidence the Maker
walked off with beads and bits clinging to their slacks
it wasnt the repose of a
scantilyfed human
seamyngly some individual happened
upon a weal to feed from there were
numerous fastfood joints and small local restaurants in the immediate vicinity and for expediency he thought it unlikely they secured
their trash foodstuff is foodstuff Beggers cant be choosers. that was a line his
father used on him and his siblings if they complained about dinner about not
wantingsay potato pancakessay squashsay
eggplant parmesan You dont have to eat. hed say You can be excused. he often thanked his fatherthanked his mother
for making the food and excused himself rather to go hungry than eat something
that didnt appeal to him he was shocked
years later when he relented had the same food found someone prepared it better
than his mother she was a very good
cook it was a revelation meatloaf without
a can of Campbells Tomato Soup poured over it thickcut liver to thin
leathersole liver topped with sliced cheddarcheese or maybe his palate changed when he was
older or sex or love had enthused him no matter however he still relished the dinners they had of organ meat and
was happily surprised to discover that he and Mexicansdespite their geographieshe was Slavic was thrilled by the same organs
someone was novel
he used that stairway as egress
from the citys library every other day its
angular flow of concrete the sharp step
by sharp step between three different landings before reaching the sidewalk at
street side having been in construction
he considered every time he used it what a pain in the ass it had to have been to
excavate fashion the forms pour and finish not a desirable gig but the break
in its relief was obvious it howled something was afoot afoulsomething was very
different from its usual complexion
whoever shat on the steps
scattered dried pine needles clutched through the railing at their left to disguise
the toilet paper and diarrhea
too bad they didnt think to move
two feet to their right and shit in the dirt
possibly some sort of statement
possibly Im homeless.
possibly Look what you made me do.
a shit screed
1347, Saturday,
6 10. 18
1316, Monday,
8 10. 18
