the wind was really rocking 

                              the hummingbird feeders swayedswangtorquedtwisted it was some kind of breeze working the gangway between his neighbours privacy fence and his house

there were better than a maddozen feeding made him think of Rodney King ‘92 Can’t we all just get along? off to a side at an uncontested feeder who knew why one little bugger was beginning to show green gills they penetratedpresented through his brilliant emerald feathers redthroat

haplessly he tossed a wing to the glass cylinder that held turbulent undyed sugar water  then the other and leaned heavily against ithe could relate he spent a year at sea

                                                           although he enjoyed the violent stormsrode the bow ran a rope through a shackle he bolted to the railing he was having too much fun to be troubled or nauseated by seasickness even the time when he slippedwas working his way back to the cabin where someone blew their guts  it hadnt washed away was still warm  the only bothersome thing was that the mess looked like shit-on-a-shinglelooked like the creamed chippedbeef breakfast Cookie made and was immensely proud of freakin tasty  it made him think of his father-in-law and wife who seriously devoured Stouffer’s

Poor lil guy

              he watched him push off the glass turn aroundwobble a bit clutch the perch with his toes blow his meal a slick silver thread that coiledbriefly in the dirt then was absorbedcovered by loose dirt brokenbits of drieddead leaves

Poor lil guy

             he gathered himself wiped his bill with a wing turned around began eating again like a game Roman returned from the vomitorium misconception or not to delicious to deny

 

1723, Twosday,  26  7. 22

1309, Day-between-Two-Ts,  27  7. 22

it wasnt his handwriting

not on the clipboard he kept beside his bed 

he lived alone

if it was one of the spooks who toured his place they hadnt scribbled beforeitd been nine years  this script was strong precise

he was making the bed when he recognised it at his foot

had he written during the night hed remember then waking in the morning have gone to it hed remember he had though not exactly what he wrote except that he woke and scribbled no light he surprised himself how good he wrote in the dark it was legible

he didnt stoop to pickup the clipboard and read it

some things ought to be savored 

                                  he intended to savor the hell out of this 

curiosity bitched it wanted to know NOW  an impetuous child leaning heavily towards a spoiled brat

he thought curiosity would have known better  he was a bitch when someonesomething wanted to bitch him a hardline bitch 

      Youll wait until Im good anready

You can be such a prick.

Yah sometimes I am

                       Now go off somewhere Youll be the first to know when I go to read it

curiosity shuffled off dejectedly

he took care of his kitkats inside and out

made more hummerfood he attracted nine which was puny compared to the three dozen once upon a timefive quarts of sugarwater a day

made freshground black coffee

sat down read the newspaper played with the crossword puzzle  it made the paper worth its subscription

he read furthur into four of seven books he was reading

took off his reading glasses

rubbed the bridge of his nose

Ohyah he said out loudstartling the cats as they lounged around the livingroom with him

he was their alphamale a good alpha-bet 

                                    Yah why didnt ya knuckleheads remind me rhetorical  though smilincrossin his fingers hed catch them unsuspecting and theyd actually respond to himsay something theyd make a million togethertake the act on Johnny Carson

he fetched the clipboard

poured himself another cup

sat on the couch

put his glasses on

sipped the coffee

swallowed

cleared his throat

barked Curious

felt its presence

read

   a death threat

he was disappointed

less is more

maybe whoeverwhatever was hoping to bore him to death

kill him in his sleep in his bed

                              why would he fear thathed bet everyone wished theyd die in their bed if they could afford a bed a room a roof

 

the house had been locked

he wasnt going to lose any sleep over it

he kept it dated it timed it whoeverwhatever didnt that bugged him a petpeeve moved it to the bottom of the onesided pages other side utilised gripped by the BEAR-OF-A-CLIP clipboard

                                                                 suddenlylaugheduproariously tickled to tears  it occurred to him laughing harder it was probably the only letter he ever received he wouldnt reply to

0800,  Twosday,  26  7. 22

1117,  Day-between-Two-Ts,  27  7. 22

Billy Joel  The Stranger  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E5ofVsxTPoc