I lit two matches

I stoked a smoke

I fed a ceramic cat the burnt matches

I inhaled

I exhaled

I go all to haelle 
              the smoke works like a skeleton key through my lungs through my bloodstream into the motherlode fingering the silver keyholes in all the celldoors wiggling and tickling until one in particular wails in the right paroxysmic sigh(for that moment)

then plunges its thorny key

jiggles it for good measure

and turns it

            the cell unlocks

it takes a languid moment(for each)

before anxiously yanking the door wide open to reveal its contents

that squirm like an oyster just before its shucked

                                         AWFUCK  sighs the oyster
as it witnesses the tip of the blade penetrating its shhcell

all that effort to accrete a pearl

the irritations

now to lose it to something of a vagrant that robs rather than labours  hadnt bent a knee elbow or backAWFUCK!


but this pearl is swilling vodka laughing darkly  is drunk and wanton

a decrepit old conjuror

capable of playing whatever magic he wished

played pattycake

served his own purposes

but I know I could smell him

hes sousedhes loaded to the gills

but the conjuror knew Id describe him as soused to the gills and incanted in Latin from original Greek and grew gills bright red gills limned and hued in chartreuse that yawned   ancollapsed     anyawned
ancollapsed like feathery insatiable pussies

if the conjuror wanted he could make them speak

Say a few words to the people
                         as a ventriloquist might taunt the dummy seated on his lap
but these dummies were dumbed up 
he made them mute

he acted as if he were upset

knowing full well what he had done

Dont be shy the conjuror said Just a few words For their edification

and slyly looked out to see if I were looking in

if I were willing to assume his  their

if I were an audience

if I wished to be edified

outside the conjurors shhcell the smoke hadnt dissipated 

quietly it fingered a jailer keyring

it wasnt fool enough to leave a key in the lock

and while Im not a conjuror I impelled the smoke to move along  Parse I asked Please  Another shhcell

festooned in wiggling gills the conjuror was either partially blinded by their trembling tips or didnt see or drunkenly disregarded the sliver of smoke hanging outside his door

Dont be shy the conjuror said to me

hesitantly
I looked in
and as my eyes met the snarl starting up on his wetted lips the shhcelldoor hushed shut  was bolted and locked

over a vapourous shoulder smoke nodded at me  implying I owned it one

I nodded  I accepted my obligation

as I finished my smoke watching the blue and silver breeze snatch my exhales and drag them off to wherever breezes or winds go I pondered how my obligation would eventually play out

and crushing the butt

smothering the ash

inside my head I could hear the conjuror mull and threaten  When I get out

I didnt concern myself

I couldnt imagine smoke would let me off the hook that it would despoil any attempt the conjuror might make to escape

if he remembered when his binge was finished or his vodka deplete

perhaps I can go all to haelle for what it cared

Id find out

in the meantime I lit two matches I stoked a smoke

1915,  Thursday,  21  7. 16
1454,  Friday,  22  7. 16

Otis Redding  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wyPKRcBTsFQ

he fit her into a cigar box

the Lambrusco was too large

he left her on the limegreen dish towel that he used inside a cereal bowl to resemble a birds nest

he wanted to recreate realise a kind of animal fowl comfort for her

people had comfort clothing food gym workout outfits athletes had lucky garments accoutrements  there were places of refuge to disappear into

why would a bird be different

were earthlings all

he had a comfort place  the recesses of his mind

a comfort book  Finnegans Wake

a comfort whisky in front of a beeswax candle in a darkened room or fireplace firepit

despite understanding those comforts he had a hard time wrapping his head around the concept of comfort food

---   Your licorice is

---   No  Licorice tastes good I do not console myself with licorice

I like how it tastes its texture

she came from an uncomfortable childhood far more stressful than his

she had comfort foods

he was floored when she admitted as much

---   Im not judging  I cant judge  I cant because I have no concept of comfort food I eat to fuel my machine Me

she recognised he did  if they ever had ice cream cookies baked goods chips chocolate or candy(except for licorice) she put it in their market basket or their ingredients and baked them at home

he laughed suddenly

---   Oh   I suppose I do

My lemon meringue pie                   

Yathink itd pass as a comfort food

---   Babe  You have lemon meringue pie as your birthday cake

Once a year

---   See There you go  I do!

---   Once a year    On your birthday   You seek comfort

---   Can you think of a better day

---   Shaddup

Comere and kiss me

he liked kissing her

Why would a bird be different?

he didnt speak bird

no human being(earthling) did

though human beings big brains might tell them otherwise

---   Clearly its a bird

---   It is  Can you flyNo

Clearly its a human being

Yes  People of colour have intellectYes

Clearly its a racist human being who thinks otherwise

it took him a day to put her into the cigar box

he couldnt quit looking at her death or grasp they failedhe failed

the rational aspect of his irrational self:  does not compute  was stymied  anguished

she was all-in

he was all-in

they were ambushed

by something neither one of them could see  or fathom

it took him the day to apologise to her the day to grieve grapple and put down his horrible gnawing angst

the day to forgive himself

he wasnt a forgiving soul(not religious) and the last person he would give slack was himself

he was relentless

he had to talk himself down off the ledge

she tried to console him

he told her to shaddup and kiss him

he lost himself in her body between her legs her on top of him her passion sweating down on him  and spittle  hammering her from behind his sweat splashed onto the palette of her hips the small of her back

he lost himself in her

anaesthetised himself with her and her love and lust and sex

he came out of her exhausted

laying on the bed beside her

his hand flat on the flat of her belly

off the ledge

from her cigar box glancing up over her shoulder Pat forgave him

Dont beat yourself up

Have her again for me

Because I cant

I never will

Have her

Because you can

he rose onto his elbow

he growled at her

she rolled her bright hazel eyes

laughed

---   Youre insatiable

he split her legs buried his face in her pussy

                                    ahhis place of comfort

 

1504,   Thursday,  21  7. 16