he possessed a hair-trigger curiosity that readily recognised minutiae

  

the  blatant  smallest things pricked his mind  piqued him 

and he raged  bloodlusting  when others he assumed to possess faculties as full as his own either averred their eyes

or didnt look

                         terra incognita(unknown territory – land)

how could anything Latin not cull someones interest

a fearsome sounding gobbledygook  which  viscerally enunciated by the priest during the recitation of Sundays Mass  rained down on the large and small worshippers from his prominent lectern

then particularly  

                            when most of Earths terra incognita has been erased and replaced

and in his best estimate  by terror incognita

metus   timor   vereor

 

                                    let people pick and choose the names of their fabricated and enforced fantasies

he would have none

he earnestly still sought occasions to thumb through an old reprinted hardbound he stole from the public library as a boy                                                                                                                       

The History of the Expedition Under the Command of Captains Lewis and Clark

and within  its map entitled

A Map of Lewis and Clark's Travel, Across the Western Portion of North America,  

From the Mississippi to the Pacific Ocean

fear could summons no passion or combat to rival his succulent enticement

perhaps  at best  fear might muster his blanket pity
                                                                                     when his pity was hapless and extended in a word  because in all good conscience he had nothing more to offer than the salve of the word itself

he did not know the Latin for that brusque alignment
                                                                                      though he was confident it existed

Latin  had a word for everything

1351,  Saturday,  8  8. 15

2353,  Saturday,  8  8. 15

He abruptly lifted his nose up out of his book

                                                                                  he remembered grammar school recesses

those  particularly  when he fell lax  which was so unlike him  lazy  and took his eye off the clocks sweeping second-hand  failing to anticipate the bell  then found himself buried many many steps behind the bustle and crush of children who busted out into the fresh blue air to play  to not have to listen to their teachers instructions for ten cool clear minutes

he wasnt a bad student  he certainly wasnt an exceptional student

he had his share of bright moments

                                                                                  

he took his nose out of his book to walk a bit and not read

gently offering himself a respite  a reprieve    a break to let those things happening him to sound in his skull

and be absorbed

not that he needed to

but rather to help restore the translucent bubble shimmering around him and reaffirm in his consciousness where

he exactly was and what in his vicinity was static or fluid  or might feel emboldened to enter his sphere

reacquainting himself to that which was without   what he might consider allowing in

amusing himself   if there were breach how hed combat it expel the unwanted then close and seal it airtight again

   

he cast his eyes about for any taxing or unfortunate juju which would be as obvious to him as a gold tooth in a black mans mouth

he had spent too much time in this world of his

he was practised and ready

when others watched him walking and reading 
they believed what they witnessed was the top of his head 
they didnt imagine the articulating structure hidden beneath
a dome scanning three-hundred–and-sixty degrees and from horizon to the blue  to the deepening-violet altitude 
 

a keen agile sonar
                                                                                                       

its unexpected  underappreciated reach

still

       often when he took the book away from his face the immediacy around him was shocking
he would have preferred not to see what he saw 
                                                                               angrily questioning himself
Why didnt you keep your head down a single moment longer

though  perhaps the Force forced his hand and betrayed him to witness what he saw

                                                                                                                                                    Oh Witness!
he witnessed the obscene waddle of a pale woman in hot pursuit of her cunt                 

her cunt like an aggressive seeing-eye dog relentlessly dragging her behind it  

its monocle  eye-patch  a pair of blue denim short shorts  unable to diminish her cunts intent upon the world

it waddled dead-eye in his direction

tugging at her to follow 
while she lurched stumbled and took missteps trying to keep up with it

why she gave it head was beyond him

lessons proved all he could do was wait for that opportune  inevitable   moment
when it blinked
and unblinking slightly disoriented he could throw it a head fake  shake something bright in his hand as a distraction like a red cape in the face of a lunging bull  and sidestep it  the horn of her hip passing just wide of him
and her momentum too much to heel or veer

before it could recover

                                      he buried his head in his book
and from above watched it lunge left and right  infuriated that it was slipped  but unable to recognise him behind his books hardcover  its leaves of dense text  tracts   and spells

frantically not to go it alone or submit to its failure   it gored an unsuspecting Mickey Mouse standing behind him

            

1343,  Friday,  14  8. 15
2351,  Saturday,  15 8. 15

Something

Something occurred to her

                                           he could see it in her eyes

but she didnt say

so he waited patiently for its infection to become pronounced 

 

its swelling red and distended

and when she still didnt say

he asked

her eyes swelled with tears

she bit her tongue

                                                          then

she said as if her breath was evil

It occurred to me

Yes 

 

It has occurred to me

                                    a frightened policemans handgun

is now the noose people are lynched by in broad daylight

without snarling dogs or forsaken dark gatherings or cowardly drunken screamed encouragement

he took her in his arms  held her  and tried to absorb her trembling the violence that upended her and stole away
her legs so she couldnt run
                                                  and stomped her heart

Im sorry love

 

The more things change the more they stay the same

Its not appealing  or very compassionate

I am sorry

it wasnt his failure

Horror

              has no consolation

1954,  Friday,  14  8. 15