cleats

            gawddamn  it was nice to hear cleats again

(even if it was in an airport terminal)

the steadysure

                         TAP   TAP   TAP 

                                                    brisk steps 

always sounded to him that the feet in those shoes knew exactly where they were going
confidently announcing themselves

                                                          BANG   BANG   BANG

coming through  or over the top of you

Ever been stepped on by a cleated shoe
or boot

            uncomfortable
really Uncomfortable

he played sports when using ones cleats were violently encouraged   and perfected

using them required no courage

standing in front of them  without flinching

                                                                      Courage

then sometime after he stopped competing   Life got in the way   cleats went soft   and turned into rubber

Blood went out of the game

he liked the blood

                              the wounds  the scars 
showed you were part of something
had skin in the game

1616,  Wednesday,  18  3. 15

odd

Hed seen odd 

odd was odd

it fastened your eyes to it

despite your parents level best warning to you as a child  it was impolite to stare

                                                                                                                                    SO

he learned to avert his eyes                                                                                                         

                                              BUT  Curiosity  is powerful
it was certainly more powerful than his parents warnings  their admonishments 
that took stutter steps tripped over their feet and finally fell flat on their utterly surprised faces
 

he did avert his eyes    briefly

                                                 then stole glances that soon overran him

he learned to keep his eyes way out ahead of himself
and hawkeye as he was
the glances he incurred became slides  freeze-frames
that he was able to flesh out  cobble together  and flash against the sleek bone screen inside his skull

he could hustle through their static-images and make them move as if they were exactly the thing he was warned
not to stare at

--  where there was a will(he was a willful child  and a willful man-child)

                                                                                                                      there was always a way  --

this odd though 

                          fixed him
by himself
he had to pause   and wonder 
nearly outloud 

                        He did climb the stairs to the mens lockerroom on the second floor
Didnt he

he was eternally distracted by the shiny things that shot through his head like sparks off
a mad whirling whetstone

                                            showers  bullets   falling ashes

he looked up  briefly
from out of the pale gray metal trash bucket

he saw the urinals on the wall  

                                                  BINGO! MENS ROOM!

the odd got odder

his temptation was to call it a teabag 
but thatd be a rare tea
likely one to take as a hot toddy 
fortified with a stark quaff of whisky a drizzle of honey and a thick slice of fresh lemon

which wasnt to say that after all that effort   he wouldnt finish the cup
the teabag bumping up against his lip

it was only his temptation

only  his temptation

because

               despite his over-the-top(parentally cautioned) imaginative mind
he tapped things into place with a realists sensibilities when Real was Required

too many years successful in math
making things add up 
equations equal on either side

it wasnt a teabag

it was a glistening white chaste  deployed   tampon
yawning on the bottom of an otherwise empty metal bucket
its cotton string perfectly extended
 

a perfectly-executed inverted Y

                                                       Somebody gets an A for Penmanship!

though a tad off-center 

if centered   he might have called it Art

Still
tough to get odder than this

1413,  Friday,  3  4. 15    

Ga Ga

Itd been

                    Forever

since he ran into a good old fashioned blasphemer

black spit
           susurrating between his broken and missing teeth

black heads dotting his nose and cheeks where his pores werent larger enough for them to fall into 

venal  to be sure

tangled  unruly long eyebrows 

rheumy eyes
               that the palest blue a hint of liquid quivered in

his body was shrunken desiccated

a caved-in chest 

thin cords of muscles ran down his forearms where they struck out of his plaid flannelled rolled up shirt sleeves

in his breast pocket a persistant crushed cellophane pack of Camels that never ran out of cigarettes

a butt smouldering between his yellowed nicotine fingers

in his eyes two things Fucked the World

God
     Id love to cut his throat and put my cigarette out finally in his blood

and

the United States Government

he had a bigger hard-on for It
                                Id love to fuck It raw in the ass

                        Fuck it Ga Ga

Ga Ga  he slobbered

Ga Ga  he spat

Ga Ga  like a retard with only sounds or syllables for his lack of words and Contempt

Ga Ga  he spazzed
                     a pronounced vein quivering at his gray fizzle-haired temple

his blasphemy
                never so much articulated

no patience to elicit a remark

his blasphemy
                like the stench off a moist turd crushed and smeared

emanating off the worn holey leather shoe bottom


his sole(said soul) said Ga Ga!                                                                        

1149,  Thursday,  2  4. 15

Bill Hems

           likely his name hasnt seen the light of day since his obit the Summer of ’76 its long overdue!