All around him he had his shit stacked

some of it was stacked keenedged

                                                                like skyscrapers erected in the city to the east       

that he could make out if the lake breeze was blowing out

                                                                                                      usually the citys fetid air   

yellow-bruised like bad fruit  by exhaust fumes and factory emissions  shut that down

but on a really  really good day  he could make them out

on hot days  if a really good day

the skyscrapers quivered on the horizon like Indian smoke signals

                                                                                      he wondered what would they say     

if he could read smoke

his reading comprehension was lousy

he argued with his teacher that he read for the beauty of the text  and the thought it imparted

it was hard for him to tolerate English in junior high  for some ungodly reason it tried to create a mill of him   separating seed from chaff   and he wasnt going to become a machine by force of a pedagogy of grades 

    

some of his shit was stacked precariously

                                                                   appearing as if a piqued fart might toss it over on its face onto the worn parquet and the threadbare throw rugs under his feet

he stacked how he stacked it according to what was riffing through his head

it was of no matter to him how disparate it might appear to someone outside of his head

if they thought they could possibly know what made him tick

Christ even he didnt  all he knew was that the mad confusion made sense to him  and thats 

what mattered  

                                           they outside had better hope he let the ticking continue

cuz if a day came and he ceased ticking 

                                                                                            

                                               the bombd go off
and itd make those cowardly IEDs detonated in foreign countries look like childsplay
                               

theirs were intended to maim

fuck bodies and minds

although it was the minds they truly wanted to fuck  to fuck em raw and then roll off to a side smoke a cigarette   and admire the gore happening in behind their wideopen vacant 

black eyes

                                                                                                                       

eyes
evacuated by religion
theres nothing illlogical or irrational about religion
  

a bundled up  strapped in  straitjacket of Faith 

                                                                                       Faith   where Reason goes to die 

Faith   where you throw up your arms  your useless hands    and surrender 

                                                                                       hoping they dont shoot you first

one would assume theyd allow you a thread of hope

at the very least he hoped they wouldnt hear the click of the hammer drawn back into its firing position

 

if his ticking stopped

the annihilation would be severe 

scorched minds                                                                                         

                          wide black plebeian eyes

                                                                                    

it seemed to him it was time to learn what we failed to learn earlier

if he could stuff all that shit stacked around him into his head

                                                                                                                if                       

a mighty big word for two letters

if  --  thered be no stacks 

                                         if  --  thered be no helter skelter

but then he wouldnt be who he was

 

he needed the stacks like the atmosphere needed trees to scrub CO2 for Oxygen

2246,  Sunday,  15  6. 14

1459,  Sunday,  22  6. 14

there was a barcode

stuck to the end of his cock

it wasnt a Fresh-By  a Birth or Expiration date

it was # 0667528744757

                      $5.00

$5.00

shameful

if someone had the keen imagination to affix a tacky sticker to the head of his cock 
thats it  five bucks

hell  hed kick down five bucks just to learn how the tagger managed the sleight-of-hand

 

he was feeling like a bit of a scientific experiment   like he might have been lifted up during the night in his sleep  or in an induced sleep

and explored by Aliens                                                                                                               

or impressive Churchgoers

  

there was no way to tell                                                                                                          

                                            he was a heavy sleeper and was intoxicated with dreams   

filled with enormous red yellow and black fires burning in every direction he looked    

fires undiminished  burning in full throat and fury  their fuels impossibly not rendered    

not the sailboats at sea or tied to a quay  not the automobiles sprawled on crying and 

sputtering tarmac  stuck fast by black-taffy tires afire   not the shimmering walls of trees 

or singular plumes throwing off swarms of fireflies ash and sodden pitchblack smoke   

not the wood buildings shaking like epileptics  tipping their tinroofs like bright shining fedoras  

or mad locomotives and traincars snaking on ochre rails  and the fires themselves  their magnificent whirling sheens  painting and marbling the faces and bodies of onlookers as if 

their skins were made of paraffin   and they marveling as intently as he

he woke and pulled on his dirty buttonfly jeans to work the fruit trees in the yard  turned the copious compost  watered and tendered the young plants to assure their best starts to flourish 

he cleaned and refilled the halfdozen hummingbird feeders

                                                                                                     then stomping his work boots 

to shed soil  slapping the dirt from his knees and thighs and seat  he and she jumped into the truck and drove over to the Mercantile for groceries  the butchers for fresh meat

they stopped for a coffee and talked over the stained white ironstone mugs

somewhere in there 

or prior

he was tagged

he wasnt one to pay attention to discomfort or pain  both lubricated his sense of presence                                                                                                                                        being  in a word  alive

small ticks between the GONGs of waking and falling asleep

spice for his food  a clean glass jar for his drink

tagged

somewhere in there

he hadnt a clue 

she hadnt a clue

but she laughed something fierce and said she was sorry when she recognized the  

consternation in his face

then

laughed again and again something fierce

she even laughed when they went to bed and he nuzzled the back of her neck

wondering  over her shoulder  across her dimpled cheek  if hed remembered to wear protection

--   Yah love  Five bucks worth

1557,  Day-Between-Two-Ts,  18  6. 14

1423,  Sunday,  22  6. 14