He tried   

honestly tried
Never(thats always a huge order)

          to take for granted the simple things that provided him pleasure

sitting  having breakfast at a diner counter

rather than squandering an entire table

pleased him

his breakfast pleased him enormously

its buckwheat pancakes with fresh blueberries worked into its batter

the butter patties on white slips of paper  cherished on top small cubes of ice in a shallow sauce bowl to its side

a separate plate of thick bacon rashers  not well done

the ironstone cup(he could drive a nail with if need be) filled with smoking black coffee and the handsome buxom waitress(buxom  not fat  a rare commodity) who bent over his cup and listened to him

when he told her he wanted his coffee black

and she filled it completely without leaving room for cream

                                                                                                       

laying to the left of his meal he admired the ramshackle clipboard he scabbed more years ago than he cared to count from a garbage bin on a military base 

if not for it  he would have been arrested for trespassing

it distracted him

he went one way after it

the phalanx he was with went another

and while it clashed with military police and was violently subdued

he went over a chainlink fence into a woods and secreted himself throughout the night

he was fond of it  and its lever that slopped and clattered but tightly held the loose leaves of paper which one side had been appropriated with text  its opposite side unwrit was the side faced up  entertaining him  naked  begging to be clothed in ballpoint ink

its pages barely begged for long

his handwriting was expansive  and illegible

                                                                               

most people who became intrigued with his printing/writing wanted to know if the language was Chinese(their first guess)  or if it was code

replying that it was English didnt satisfy their curiosity

Of course its English   they said as they continued to scrutinize it and roll their eyes as if he thought they were stupid enough to buy that it was actually English

Move along  he wanted to say  Move along  Nothing to see here  I dont know why you should care what Im doing

Move along  he wanted to say  You surely remember that curiosity killed the cat and crippled the gawker

atop the loaded clipboard were usually a book or two or a complement of magazines he also admired

he loved the words they uttered  silently  and turned the clasp in his brain like skeleton keys unlocking unknown rooms pantries and cupboards

                                        stocked with either gruesome discoveries  murdered bodies never imagined to be found  trophies dead memories  or innocent moments laying forgotten 

words rocking ideations thoughts creative slips and slides   queer manipulations

then with breakfast savored and finished the waitress bent over him again  vigorous at his dishes and refilling his coffee smiling widely as she catches herself holds her tongue  remembering he was drinking it black  or either was alert to the hint were wasnt a creamer around him

Was there anything more she could do for him

 

he eyed the slice of her cleavage and told her the fresh coffee was wonderful and in a bit if either she could keep his cup refilled or provide him a carafe  in a bit  if her fruit pies were as good as she was  hed probably want a slice of one

Her pies were as good as her

Then fine  a bite in a bit

she smiled effervescently

reminding him of crescent moons appearing over the mountains  smiling over deserts  reflecting in motel pools and Midwest lakes and on the dark curl and spit of the sea

taking up his Bic pen sipping some coffee and then returning the cup to the worn Formica boomerang-etched countertop

he absently followed their design with his eyes   then with his pen

                                                                                             

he meditates
   

then lubed up  the coffee oiling his gears

he begins to write

write   

           what pleases him  

he wrote this(but kept the waitresss phone number to himself)

2324,  Friday,  3  7. 15

it was an affront

a kind of a barrage he hadnt imagined    and frankly he wondered where hed been to miss something so obvious as an

Irreversible punishment

 

he neither heard nor read of it before

it was stark

arresting

                 he came across it as he glanced a magazine header of an article which elaborated on the Supreme Courts recent 5-4 decision allowing the continued use of midazolam in state executions

Chico Marxs dropdead ringer Justice Alito wrote for the conservative majority “. . . inmates . . . failed to identify an available and preferable method of execution and failed to make the case that (midazolam) entailed a substantial risk

of severe pain”*

crafting his words  

                              despite evidence of three botched executions where inmates(Dennis McGuire suffered 26 minutes

Clayton Lockett suffered 43 minutes and Joseph Woods suffered 1 hour and 57 minutes) gasped cried out loud

and writhed

until they finally died

Alito affirmed 10^th District Court Chief Judge Mary Beck Briscoes** prior opinion that while the procedure was a “procedural disaster” it was “ultimately successful”

stone cold conservatism(psychopaths)

                                                              he could suppose one might also imagine with those words confessed

that a burning at the stake with insufficient wood would not be out of the question

seems far and in-between in America there are souls who can do their jobs right

Irreversible punishment

                                        a sobering Law  oer the Land of the Free and the Home of the Brave

1305, Thursday,  2  7. 15

1828,  Thursday,  2  7. 15

* http://www.nytimes.com/2015/06/30/us/supreme-court-execution-drug.html?_r=0

** http://motherboard.vice.com/read/midzolam-the-drug-at-the-heart-of-oklahomas-lethal-injection-debate

--   Its just another one of those days 

her heels spiking the concrete veranda suggested otherwise

for such a little thing she was killing it

she walked on behind him balancing a sweet roll on top her capped coffee cup and thumbing her cell with her other hand

her heel sparks echoed off the coarse brushed cement and between the brickworked storefront walls support columns and cleaned plateglass

                                         devoid of green plants      they commiserated with the other artificial scabs  cobbled roadways and parking lots sidewalks and vacated Business Closed stores   side by side by side

by side

some untended puny yellowing trees stuck up out of bays formed by concrete curbs

which made him laugh sickly

--   Jailers

as the surrounding businesses referred to the trees as elements of an inclusive greenway

saying so  doesnt make it so

anymore than indulging a whorehouse because inside it  one was told  there was truly a virgin to be had

--   Greenway  my ass

a few of the nearby trees nodded to him in the wind

he nodded back

taking in the imprinted scabs

the black tops  the worked flood of concrete and useless building spaces         

they always picked him up violently by his ears

                                                                               and he followed them

a slight disabled junior high teacher convinced him it was a workable technique

hed seen other kids launch themselves to their feet and then hobble behind him bent over raptly following their tortured ears

the only time he and the teacher crossed paths was when he happened to be nearest the open classroom door

the teacher entering the classroom  it wasnt his  felt he needed to quell the noise and vigor and grabbed him abruptly from behind

his wellknown antic startled the class

usually when grabbed the student squealed loudly

he didnt

he did rise to follow his ear

but before the crouching and dragging began

he slammed his hard rubber heel into the calf of the teachers trailing leg 

he supposed as the teachers howl went off(that was different) they were both at fault

he retaliated against the uninformed choice

delivering the kick the teachers pinch flinched  went slack  and he stood upright

immediately

taking his ears out of harms way

--   Ill see you in Sweats office

he remarked down into the teachers pained and red glaring face

Mr Duckett was too overcome to reply

Sweat was the junior high principal

he was the epitome of a principal

he knew every kid on sight and by name

you cant kid a kidder

and with Sweat  you didnt even dare try

hed hand you your head even as your mouth was still working

Mr Sweat worked off Honesty and Respect

he lived on them as a two-way street

Sweat heard what transpired before he arrived

--   And you say  Mr Sweat asked

he said exactly what happened between the students who disrupted the class

Yes   Unfortunately that sounds like them

They disappoint me

You disappointed me

--   Mr Sweat  I apologise to you  for disappointing you

Ive got nothing for Mr Duckett

Dont grab a snake by its tail

It dont like it

Dont like it  particularly  when its relaxed sunning itself  not in the midst of things

--   What would you have me do

If the ball were in your court

--   Its not

But  since youre asking  the harms have equaled themselves out

Actually   equal   thats probably not true

but his pants will cover his black and blue

I cant cover my ear

--   Let me take a look at that

                                               Goodness

--   He never cuts that thumbnail  not ever  You dont want him to grabbing you by the ear

 * * *

It was just one of those days

one of the little things heels skittered

then immediately over his shoulder he heard her paper cup of coffee slap on the concrete

contents splash

her cell clatter

turning  he caught the donut rolling lazily

she stood  utterly rigid

 

her knees broke first

she crouched  femininely  in her short skirt

trembling

and while he expected her to collapse to her hands and knees and wail  slap the concrete over and over again

or perhaps rise and barehanded slaughter any human being who witnessed her abject discontent

she did not

she gathered up her cell

turned it side to side   then over

inspection complete

she rose  straightened her skirt  and continued walking to wherever she was going
her heels falling less sharp

the coffee cup  emptied  turned  and open mouthed watched her go

he could almost hear  What about me

he knew the answer the inanimate cup would never guess     

                                                                                                        One of those days

1523,  Twosday,  30  6. 15

0009, Thursday,  2  7. 15