trash man

they were having too much fun  shots and beers smoking cigars admiring the colourful Chinese lanterns dancing on wire on the evening breeze

his brothers wife cried from inside the housefrom the kitchen window WOULD YOU TWO KEEP IT DOWN? YOU’RE DISTURBING THE NEIGHBORS.

he beat his brother to the draw Don think so they aint yelling at us from their homes

Jesus, man.  he chuckled   Would you leave her alone, I gotta live with her.

Yah I dont

   STANLEY.   DID YOU TAKE THE TRASH OUT BEFORE YOUR BROTHER SHOWED UP?

NO Fuck. Trash day tomorrow.

Ill help

Nah, that’s okay, ain’t much since the kids moved out.

She cant take it out

That’s my job; been my job since we first moved in together.

You didnt hand it off to the boys when they got old enough

My job; she said her children weren’t going to be raised to do menial jobs.

Menial like making dinner washing clothes so on so forth

It’s my job.

Okay man I cant help

NAH. No thanks.

                   he got up from the picnic table bench took a drag off the Arturo Fuente exhaled sipped the Redbreast took a pull from his beer he cleared his throat

                                                 You know what she hoping for?

Ive got an idea

An idea, that’s fun; wanna share?You tell me yours I’ll tell you mine.

Not as fun as Showing the neighbourhood girls when we were young

Who knows! What’s your idea?

I was thinking along the lines that yare set out with the trash   Anafter the trashmen leave yare still there

GODDAMMIT, exactly what I was thinking.

Brothers Close  Grew up together

Yeah, we’re disgusting.

Whawe disgusting

What makes the world go round.

                                      At least . . what makes my world go round and round.

Wheels on the bus

Exactly.  Be right back.

                        Don’t let my cigar go out.

he watched him walk up towards the house bend over stand again an pull up on his trousers bend over roll a couple of cans out from under the backsteps out of the way unseen  effortlessly   practised

                                                                                           he pushed one ahead and dragged the other on the narrow walk that lead beside the garage and out into the alley

                                                                                             something his boys didnt do for their father because their mother forbade it 

he puffed his cigar 

                    he was a good B O B   beast of burden he deserved a good cigar a good whiskey a good beer their lavish rawsometimes obscene good humour many times over the years people within earshot got up from where they were sitting and left

                    snobbitchysneers smeared on their face

Life muthafuckers  its a comedy club

                                       Ifya cant take a joke ya never should have come in

MY CIGAR?

Smouldering like your soul cunt  I listen to you

                                                   I also freshened your whiskey

afternoon,  Twosday,  16  11. 21

1227,  Sunday,  28  11. 21

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sya0wEfu-Nk

 

he loved talking with his brother

they didnt do it often enough

talking was going to have to do because the motherfucker wouldnt write

not letters

not emales

his brothers popcorn ceiling disabused him that his hand was busted  fingers inarticulate

You know what a popcorn ceiling is, right?

Yes he said its a coarse texturing to finish off drywall similar to texturing a true plaster wall applied over wood lath sprayed on with a hopper gun held eighteen inches off  Im told it deadens noise

To a T, you described my bedroom ceiling. My wifes never been happy about it. In fact three, four years ago she told me she wanted it removed.

The ceiling bothered her that much

It bothered her that much.

It bother you

No. When I go to bed, turn off the lights, I can’t see it, she can’t see it, but she knew it was there.

Has she slept better since

You know, I haven’t asked her.

Have you slept better since

I sleep, I could care less what kind of ceiling is over me.

You ah  push back 

                     he knew his brother wasnt aggressiveconfrontational

Kinda.

Whas  kinda

he laughed gayly

                   I asked her if she wouldn’t wait a while longer. I hadn’t finished it yet.

their conversation collapsed in riotous laughter that ran ridiculously long

                                                                               he wiped tears from his eyes his brothers wife was humourless  his brother was a scream

when they could speak again his brother said Now that I’m not working anymore I’m thinking of doing standup comedy. What do you think?

Yare fucking hilariousYES Popcorn ceiling part of your bi . .

. . Hell yeah, thought I’d simulate how it’s done.

Complete with sound effects

Sound effects and faces, man, I practice faces when my wife isn’t looking, when she turns her back on me saying You’re ridiculous.

afternoon,  Twosday,  16  11. 21

1029,  Sunday,  28  11. 21

Iron Butterfly  Most Anything You Want  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5QZdITJX6I0

 

on a large sheet of paper he randomly slopped thin redpaint with a broad brush

                                                                                      then    he stoodup an stoodback

he slowly walked around the table looking at it

he was silent a long time

he sighed You did it because the mind will lead somewhere

                                                                 It is a frame of mind art is a frame of mind

he was gropingtryin to assess his

Wha to make   make  of this asymmetric Rorschach

the paint viscous like ink

the dribblings SPLASHesNO no

                                lashes       kinetic violence                      Im guilty

sympathetically Pray tell of what? 

     Wha

                  Nothing specificnothing in mind  nothing to put my finger on     Just how Im feeling

Then if I may, might the painting be at an end?    Done.

Thas not how I work

Maybe your work is done.

                             Maybe . . you’ve captured what you truly meant. You mixed the paint, troubled yourself getting it quite right, taped the page down, turned the paper . . you selected the brush from among many after fingeringweighin them, you practised manymany times how you might throw . which hand.

I believe you have startled yourself.

There is nothing more to be done; nothing more than where, the frame, angle, height, lighting.

 

Who was he to argue with himself

1753,  Day-between-Two-Ts,  17  1. 21

1102,  Saturday,  27  11. 21