dreamed parcel 1

It happened again

                    he said it to no oneno one was around to hear him except his cats but they were fast asleep had breakfast groomed were acting like big cats on the savannah                                         

happened again

               bludgeoned throughout the nightparcel atop of odd parcel with scarcely time to draw a breath in between though these revealeddespite wildly separate locations  geographies  these revealed a continuity  a symmetry which captured his dreaming attention because his dreams hardly ever aligned

he held something that kept him afloat something he caught a frantic glimpse ofsomething angular the black water everywhere around him was anything but angular 

he caught glimpses of it as he swam in its direction   

he tried to remain calmtried wishing and not wishing it to be everything he hoped and everything he hoped was something that would save him from drowning something that would give him a chance to survive another day another day  and another  

he wasat last greedy

                     the years he lived before didnt matter he wanted to live more years

he didnt want his life to end here unknown  fishfood  scavenged bits

Him  Yeah him I remember him  Whatever happened to him

he sought solace with the thought  Him  Hes dead 

death  a solace

hed see what something under him was in the dawn

he unbuckled his belt and cinched his arm to the raft so it wouldnt lose him now that he found it

the white noise the lapping waveshow long had he been in the waterthe sea rocking himhe had no idea he just kept swimmingkept his head above waterquickly took him into a dreamless sleep

when he woke it darkstill darkhis back was dryhad he slept through the daywas this the same nighthis throat was parched  he kept trying to clear it

he unlashed himself

he rolled over onto his back and treaded his belt through his pants

he croaked again

again

he listened for birds he listened for anything other than waves

he croaked

whathe heard something

a whistle

he listenedlistened as he might stare 

he clutched his eyes shut

Was it again

             a whistle

No

Not a whistlea breath

an inhale

an exhale

Mygod  Inhales and exhales   Nasal

he rolled onto his bellygripped the rafts woodslats

whistles

he kept his eyes closed he moved his head like an antenna roving towards where the breaths were emitted 

opening his eyes he found himself looking into an curious eye  quiet in a long head  and beyond it other curious eyes and long heads

whales

a pod of whales

their breaths silver in the night

he crawled forward he reached over the rafts edge and touched the whale behind its eye  touched an alien humanity 

who exhaled

whistled

who breathed with lungs as he breathed with lungs

other whales crowded

                       he touched them  it seemed if they had hands they would also have wanted to touch him 

the pod turned in mass  it churned the sea and whale by  whale   by    whale  took turns taking himhis raft on their backs and swimming in a direction they determined 

he croaked happily 

he gazed in all the different eyes  gazed into their humanity     he passed out 

a red rising sun woke him  he was laying on his belly

he woke believing he dreamed the breathsthe whistlesthe eyes  the whales 

he hadnt

they were taking him into the sun into the east  in the once of wakingrealising he hadnt dreamedhe was washed in the scent of land

stiffly he made it his knees

                              before he raised his eyes he looked into the eyes at either side of him he luxuriated in their whispersin their splashin the mist of their breaths

then he looked

before him in the distance were brown and green curls of land  land that smelled like a woman did waking from her sleep

then he didnt lookhe couldnt he wept

the pod rotated around him 

he recognised particular eyes 

all the whales did not participate 

those who didnt remained at the periphery  perhaps unconvinced he was worthwhile  yet they did acknowledge him they raised their pectorals waved their flukes several leapt bodily into the air and crashed back into the sea throwing up exuberant sparkling gouts

that night near enough land that he could see individual lights hear individual voices curious eye rose beside him  

he could feel their pectoral fin rub the bottom of the raft

then he or she rolled and bankeddove to their right  they emerged directly behind him and nosing the raft they churned the sea with several mighty beats of their fluke pushing him towards the land ahead 

surging forward he saw the pod peel offheard their breaths and whistles and then gliding on the arch of a swellof he or she diving beneath him he heard rollers crashing on the beachhead  rhythmic   methodical  

he was never more alone

dreamed Day-between-Two-Ts and Thursday,  1 and 2,  8. 18

1159,  Sunday,  5  8. 18

this has occurred to him twice in recent weeks

he sets his alarm in the morningbacking up his girlfriend  he doesnt work till evening

their deal if she hasnt text him before his alarm sounds he calls her they crossed their fingers his call would awaken her  she slept like the dead though shed been on a roll  he hadnt called her in months 

hed reply to her text  :  Good morning, love

he wouldnt get a response nor expect one  she was in the midst of her toiletry preparing for work

unfortunately their brief exercise exercised his cats indie and october into thinking the ball was rolling  time to be UP  time to EAT

Yah NO

        perhaps this is where his notion of catnapping came into existence  catnapped dreaming  similar to smartphone snapchats  which he virtually had no interest in

repositioning himself finding a good spot he fell back into a twilight of sleep  hypnagogic 

this mornings early episodes included text 6932420 repeating over and over  he witnessed a womans hand write it on a scrap of wrinkled paper  her disembodied voice intoned 6-9-3-2-4-2-Oh which irked him a zero is a zero not an Oh pettyperhaps she could have said twentyfourtwenty why people choose to languishrecite two-four-two-Oh was beyond him

that reoccurring text happened at fourtwentyfive in the morning 

well preceding his girlfriends text

he found he couldnt fall back to sleepthe number churned in his closed eyes as indie and october vied  ran across him  he was naked covered by a sheet  Time to get upTime to get upTime to get up 

he feigned sleepignored them

                             was it a telephone number no area code maybe she assumed they shared the same area codehow could she assume that  landlines were becoming passé 

was the number something else

eventually they subsidedfaded to black behind his dreaming eyes   

at fivefourteen a text roused him from his menial struggle

his girlfriend

she woke up and in some place in her brief shivering consciousness she realised she had fallen asleep the night before as they were texting about challenges she was having with personnel  challenges she hadnt expected from middleaged coworkersthe stress they inveighed

she valued his input 

her wakening however was exacerbated by a bad dreamshe had a lot of bad dreams in this one he left her because of her health  

he texted her  :  Good morning, my love Always beautiful to talk to you when I can

when she didnt reply he assumed she fell back to sleep

he had to ignore his cats againfind a new position  he laid on his backhis hands at his hips  he drifted off

a man walking towards him burst like a seed podspattering him harmlessly  like paint

from his collapsing shroud it falling flaccid to the ground his electricwhite contents caught a passing breeze and rose into the sky  turning into crimson plume in the dawning light disseminating

he woke stunned 

fivefortythee

that was surreal

dreams are

he repositioned himself again this time on his left sidetucking a pillow between his legs  his left arm extended  like Adams arm to God Michelangelos The Creation of Adam painted on the Sistine Chapels ceiling

he copped that position a couplethree times every night 

he rarely slept an entire night through

he walked along a curb in the amber of a streetlamp

wherever this was there were no sidewalks

a car approaching from behind threw his shadow on its face in its white headlights and abruptly cut him off

it was drab green 60s sedan

looking down he saw it nearly pinched his left foot between its tire and the curb

he stepped up completely up onto the curbonto the scrubbeddirt shoulder     

the sedans occupants unseenveiled by the lacquered sheen of light covering the windshield accosted him through the slightcracked windowsthrough curling skeins and jets of blue cigarette smoke

he swung his canvas knapsack off his shoulder

it was weighted by books and a Ka-Bar knife

in his eyes he saw an ugly deadly tangle with two occupants who sprung from the backseat exiting opposite doors 

then he recognised what he saw was really just a preamblea dance he would do if they attacked

voices snarled and spat  thensuddenly and as abruptly the sedan lurched backwards squealing  its tires peeled as it weaved back into the street 

perhaps they were daunted  they hadnt incited him to flee or make a chase of it  or perhaps the dangling knapsack its dangling unknown in his hand was like a defiant exclamation point  not to be trifled with

numbers seem to embolden people

his girlfriend texted and woke him  :  up up up. i love you. Thank you for allaying my fears and affording me more sleep. 

:  Ha  Good morning again

You’re welcome, my love

the cats began at him again but he quickly pivoted onto his right side pillow between his knees pinning his right hand between the pillow and his right knee

as the cats subsided he drifted off again

the buildings looked like stacked white cardboard boxes  the nearer he approached he saw they were big

they didnt have windows

he was inexorably drawn to them

they were his destination

he entered the square that contained them

looking up he saw queer black sticksquivering black sticks poking out of their tops and sides  the sticks werent organic to the buildings 

there was a smell

it was astringent  

formic acid

looking up he watched the black sticks tick they were articulated

OhChrist legs antennae   huge antssimultaneously they lunged out of their tall hiding places and toppledlosing their footholds freefalling into the square

they clattered around him like cannonshotsassiduous exoskeletons  then agilely gatheringregaining their feet they turned on him snapping wicked jaws   

the whitesheet walls hinted at accesses  slight small honeycombed impressions  

he threw himself at one  upclose it seemed a fibrous shoji screen he drove the sharp toe of his boot into it he punctured it he spun and jammed his heel into it several more times the hole enlarged begrudgingly he spun againbacked up several strides then hurled himself headlong at it ahead of an ant he breached it and from within he could make out stark silhouette of his antagonist the dull shadows of other ants as they massed on the translucent walls 

inside staircases went up  none descended into the earthen floor  ironwork stairs to ironwork landing and floors  everything he could see was lit opaquely  lit by sunlight

mounting the steps he found upper floors were cutup into unfinished spaces  ascending to the top was a singular suite  it was enveloped inkind by the exterior skin  

there was a single framed sliding door etched with Ron Rot & RCT     

inside he could hear motion  muffled voices

rapping at the fibrous door  it sounded dull  everything went quiet

which irked him

he put the toe and heel of his boot to work again

he crouched to enter the room through the hole he made  

of course three men stood opposite him he halfexpected theyd wear coveralls with Ron &  Rot &  RCT on their breasts

their faces were pinched

closecropped skulls

You guys look like exterminators then he motioned with his thumb to the walls at their backs and sides marred by the movement of huge herkyjerky shadows

So whats with the ants

the house phone rang and roused him fuckin telemarketers  going to his voicemail the call ended  and whined

he was sorely tempted to whine with it

catnaps

       snapchats

now indie and october won out

page said Wed evening,  20  6. 18 (but I think before)

1134,  Thursday,  2  8. 18

Follow Me Down  UNKLE  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E6v5OPd9rTQ

TheManCan TMC  the Manchurian Candidate cleverhuh

You cant use it

he was talking to himself

Why cant I use it

You know why you cant  It isnt original  You hold yourself up to originality

Genius rather 

You callin yourself a genius

No  Im copping Oscar Wildeyoure in my head you ought to be able to read my thoughtsrunnin the tickertape too quick for you Oscar Wilde  Talent borrows Genius steals  A great tiedyed tshirt doncha think

I think sometimes you ought to quit thinking  Sometimes youre absurd
Sometimes  Awman youre hurtin my feelings  I try hard to think outside the box

Youre like your brotherinlaw says a contrarian

Mebbe  But for all the right reasons

Yes There is that

Look at yougivin yourself US  a pat on the back

Dont try an humour or . . 
. . Polish yer knobshine yer buttons

Dont flatter me  Im you  You deign flattery

I doWe do  Dont try an butter my bread   We like it dry

Yes we do

Look at us In agreement once again  I figure eventually youll come down to stand with me Yaknow (he begins singing) For united we stand  divided we fall . . 
. . YahBrotherhood of Man  Stop 

You dont like my singing
You dont like your singing

I dontyoure right

So back to my point Yacant use TheManCan  TMC   Awright 

Stick with The Manchurian Candidate  Try not to be groovynot aggregate every fucking little thing into shorthand or acronyms like everyone else Theyre not as clever as they think

Doncha think

I think Im in agreement

Youre in agreement with me

I am

Shall we make a note on the calendar you took my advise

Your advise 

Sure

Yathink youre always on the inside looking out

What

You heard me

Arent I

Youre a dick NO Think  Were typically on the inside looking outraggin each other until we decide Which usually comes down contrary to the majority the commonplacethe commonly accepted notion

I hate notions

Yahhell We don even wear deodorant or cologne Fuck notions

I didnt mean those notions

NO  You didntI know what you meant  I can read the tickertape too

1217,  Monday,  30  7. 18

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RZB96cvBjy8

a tweet a moronic Manchurian tweet

                                       from where he stood it sounded right on a dutiful tweet to mollify his babyboy his namesake boy deserves some love cut of Dadas cloth  following in the old mans infidelities

the Manchurian Candidate wont cross his white rallygoershis QAnAholes

                                                                             for the same reason a straw man shuns fire

theyd burn him down if he did if he did not go their way 

he aint heroic

text  : 1453,  Thursday,  2  8. 18 

https://www.mediaite.com/online/trump-retweets-his-son-erics-swipe-at-jim-acosta-after-rally-heckling
https://www.npr.org/2018/08/02/634749387/what-is-qanon-the-conspiracy-theory-tiptoeing-into-trump-world

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6NyuNnAURSg

Lenny  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8LhCd1W2V0Q

Bee

her name suited her to a T

she was kinetic lightning in a bottle  sassy even curtsied jealously to her

but only her husband Russ or a few close friends were allowed Bee  shed acknowledge them  if anyone else dropped Beeaddressed her  it was as if they never spoke or she didnt hear them

to everyone else it was Bernice or Mrs. Leveack

she was a soughtafter hairdresser

she went to womens homes to do their hairwhich was ridiculously convenient for her clients

she didnt respect salons  They up their prices you pay their overhead. 

her cuts were usually five or ten dollars less

a dollar bought more then

                         fivecent candy bars were bigger than the ones were paying a buckfifty for now he quit candy bars more years ago than he could remember  last century  

occasionally she cut hair at her apartment  thats where she cut his  but he had to be patientunderstand his cut would take longer because she was making dinner

Russ ate at 6 

sometimes as Russ ate at 6 he watched his reflection eat in a mirror  I’m almost done, baby she would say

Take your time, Bee, don’t louse up his beautiful hair on my account.

Russ would blow kisses at him in the mirror  Anyone else other than me tell you you’re pretty?

No one aside from you would get away with that Russ  We cant fight in the house anif we took it outside Bernice would never cut my hair again 

Leave him alone, Russ. He’s the only man I’ve ever cut.

Because you cut his mother’s hair.

Because he asked if I would, not because his mother sent him to me.

Whaddaya call that haircut, boy?

he smiled at Russs reflection chewing pot roast  As Ive told you before  A shag

when Russ finished chewing he wiped his mouth with a linen napkin  Bernices dinner setting was second to none  China  Silver  Russ was drinking his cold beer from a crystal goblet  A shag. Yah. I seem to remember.

Why don’t you come with me to Tony’s, a proper barber shop, and get a real man’s haircut?

Bernice is giving me a real mans haircut  Anything I do is manly  You like your hair cropped  You have Bernice  I like my hair long  And I have plenty of women who like my hair long  They latch on itwind their fingers through it keeping my head exactly where they want it

That’s enough, Joe Bernice said  I'll tell your mother . .

. . She knows . .

. . Russ is eating.

He is  I apologise Sometimes I forget my table manners

Bee.

Please, Russ, my dinner’s not getting cold. I have it warming in the oven beside your second helping. We’re just about done here, love.

he and Russ had an affection despite Russ picking on him

he knew Russ and Bernice were kids togethermarried right out of high school

he couldnt imaginelet alone imagine being with only one woman in your life or a woman with one man

the last few haircuts Bernice gave him when he would return after moving to Minnesota she still cut his hair with a cigarette smouldering between her crimsonslashed lips still the longest hanging ash he ever saw on any cigarette in anyones mouth Fucking World Record Length that shed gently take from her lips and place intact in a furrowed bit of a large blownglass cocktail ashtray heaped with butts and ashes  and then with her free handher other still holding a swatch of his hair shed clutch to her face a plastic respirator attached to a hose from her oxygen tank and breathe deeply for several beats

she suffered emphysema

Bernice

Let it go, Joe. I always knew cigarettes were going to be the death of me. I’m okay with it.

his mother called him to say Bernice passed  Russ had her cremated as she wished but he couldnt think about a memorial for her  not just yet

Russ died not a month later  Of a broken heart he thought 

late May, 2018 (scrawled on a page dated 2222, Saturday,  26  5. 18)

1118, Monday,  30  7. 18