28.5.17




slowly undulating white halls 


overhead
      light sweeps in waves and shadows of things unseen crawl creepily on the tiled floor scribble the walls


inside the halls he hears a breathing or a whisper    he follows his ears refutes what his eyes seehis dominatrix sense shrills                                                                                                                          
he lets her go 
though he refuses to close his eyes                       

he digs her febrile hallucinations sent to confuse him   




within he found a very old man laying in bed  beyond struggle  surviving only in his eyes   they are enormous
paleblue  

he has crepepaper skin  

he didnt know who he washe didnt wear a bracelet

the old man didnt say   


he talked to the old man like one talks to a pethopeful at least he might convey his feelings emotions  he didnt assume they spoke the same language

the old man moved his eyes side to side searching his gaze as he spoke to him

he didnt trouble himself wondering what his looks meant

he hazarded the moving wallsthe effacing labyrinth contrived to keep him away from this  and yet during every visit the old man remained mute
   
                 then he would feel the halls behind him begin to quiver sense their impatience their preparation to constrict and close and seal him inside 

he rose from a simple wood chair touched the old mans shoulder Ill be back  I will be back   then he strode out of the room ignoring the false exits the maze tendered  it was a pity it couldnt smell the freshblue aroma more robust more realised than Ariadnes thin spunsilk




he didnt know how many timesthe dozens of times he risked the labyrinth to visit the old man


this morning he rode the brisk threads of silver morning sunlight pushing him through the quivering hallwaysover the thin black spider shadows haunting the floor and walls to the old mans room

Good morning he said as he entered Its a glorious day  You ought to allow me to take you out of here

the old man shook his bald head no
                         it was the first he ever acknowledged a word he said

then out of his shrunken body laboring he said Please do not come anymore

he nearly gasped
You dont want me to come


he labored Do not come  I am only living to see you again         I am tired of living


tears welled up in his eyes You cant mean that

Please  Do not come

Dont come

Yes


he searched the old mans eyes
the old man looked back into his lucidly  without alarm  not averting them  piercing  despite their rheumyness

I hear you he heard his heart crack  I wont return 


the conversation exhausted the old man

he shrank a bit more before his very eyes


then he talked as he always talked 
                              of the blue and green world outside the queer walls  the prowling animals flying calling birds the ants and bees and butterflies  the natural lively earthlings which would recognisethough only briefly the old mans death  feel his soul flee through them
 


                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         then the spasming came
I have to go  he stood laid his hand on the sheet over the old mans chest he could feel his ribbones   he smiled

the old man betrayed himself
he smiled


leaving he didnt look back

    he felt the old mans eyes accompanying him  he hurried through hallsdisappointed he passed  and took them outside so they could see again
                           one last time


1235, Saturday,  27  5. 17 
Unkle (feat. ESKA) The Road  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pq0iplfH3l0

27.5.17



her hand moved sensually down the corner of the rough brick wall  like a pale octopus fingering the minute crags  elasticreaching curling
                     he craved to be that wall

at its feet cast about were stones   they were brown tarnished  grey
                                                     then they werent
not when he looked closer
they were crownsdomes of skulls

fragmented spoons and bowls  splitjaws   glaring eye sockets  gulping sutures
 
                                                       when he looked closer         



what had he been looking atdistracted
 


                                                                                                                                                     her hand

                                                                         her nimble fingers 
                                                                                                                                                          her tendons sinuously
sliding under her skin

ahhto be held in her arms hidden behind the wall pressed up against her belly and breasts their thighs sighing together

strange  
     that a hand should pit him against fever



then it retreated behind the wall


the sun was setting

he couldnt follow

he was lashed to a stake





0834,  Monday, 17  4. 17
1251,  Day-between-Two-Ts,  24  5. 17
1052,  Saturday,  27  5. 17

26.5.17




sipping cold coffee smoking a cigarette  he stood at the porch rail in the shade and could feel the coming heat of day

he came out of the house to check on bigfoot see if he had come around for his breakfast

he wasnt out there 

didnt rise to him calling out for him

his new sidekick a dusky calico stumbled out from under the porch  a sidekick only in that she showed up four days earlier and ravenously tried to knock bigfoot off his evening feed

he got between their snarls her dartingthe quick angling to steal a mouthful of food

he snatched up bigfoots and went back into the house to dole out kibble into a fresh bowl for her

returning to the porch he set hers downshe fell on it he was able to divert bigfoot from her bowl with the comfort of his own

he remained out there while they ate keeping them sequestered  cats always got to know what you got that theyre sure they didnt

since  it was becoming easier to feed them

the wee one quickly comprehended his systemunderstood that she was getting hers

if only fucking people were that easy  if fucking people werent always trying to game the other

but inequality does that

                  and if there was anything America was really really good at  it was inequality   it protected by the selfrighteous squawk of independenceentitlement bootstrapsentitlement capitalismentitlement  funny how so many can squawk around silver spoons stuck in their craws

                                              everyone else can chew on a toothpick



the calico was rail thin

though most feral cats are

he had a way with feral cats

they seemed to find him

his daughters and girlfriend teased him that he was a cat whisperer

he gamely refuted corrected them No  A pussy whisperer

they rolled their eyes
no matter
         there was no denying that he had a way with wild things

from spiders and black widows to hummingbirds to snarling dogs off leash  to buffalos


kindred spirits


made perfect sense


he was wild too 

just sheathed in human skin

he rubbed between many rocks seeing if he could shed it
                                                               No

                                           this white skin came with this incarnation



10something,  Twosday,  23  5. 17
1335 days remaining of less Russianbuhbye