quit talking let’s eat

 

grabbing her by throat hair he holds gun barrel to right eye with free hand she edges fingers into boot pulls dagger plunges it into his heart

i didn’t mean to do that i meant to do this

i’m trying to figure out how other people deal with disappointment of old age i guess they arrive at some settlement some settlement that eludes me

very few figure out meaning of their lives until it’s too late then become detectives trying to figure out whys if you wake up tomorrow you’ve got a shot at new day no one in this world knows what might happen

i believe people can do change maybe not their nature but spiritually emotionally intellectually psychologically i recognize change within myself i did could now never commit acts different from who i was more scared sensitive hopeful pure honest longing for love probably i sound corny all i want is mutual love adoration in way it was easier when i was thoughtless i got pussy i don’t know

poet must face every conceivable fear terror no matter how despairing risk walking away from table without chips

there are good people and bad people sometimes good people make bad mistakes sometimes bad people make smart choices

for decades he lived knowing no one valued him except his family collecting his paintings reading his works praising his efforts his entire career an inside job

her graying disheveled hair muddy smudged apron raw arthritic fingers she cooks meal washes dishes a million trillion dishes thankless life mom what’s for dinner

some people see it all coming plan invest i never saw any of it coming i never imagined

the sickly smell of grandpa’s farts lingers in room nauseating family

he held shivering abandoned puppy in arms she whimpered repeatedly he swore in that moment to protect her stood by his promise until he buried her

wild wolf chases him growling snapping nipping at ankles tearing jeans biting drawing blood he runs

pitiable old men everyone knows old men are impotent jokes with no pack to punch just harmless peevish impediments what good are they what purpose do they serve get the muther-freaking out of the road old man

riotous advancing mob overcome military police

sharing yoga class old man attending his skin thin as parchment bled i cleaned his blood from mat every class until he died

after puncturing her maidenhood reaching orgasm he strokes head of 8 year old daughter good girl good girl daddy is so proud

skin him alive skin him alive little girl asks what’s different about poetry from standard writing grandpa answers i have no answers

not possible yet happening gradually suddenly amidst bribes bargaining lies government collapses citizenry unleash in anarchy yearning for change

Mom’s fogginess i sense it beginning in myself possibly inherited will i become like Mom there’s no one looking out for me Mom i’m looking out for you

after 30 or 40 years life is over don’t believe what they tell you

when i’m dead what will they unearth in my personal effects writings paintings letters emails bookmarks internet visitations or gossip accusations from those still alive probably allege another selfish decadent fool squandered resources missed opportunities misses the mark

maybe in 5 years i will live in New York City London Paris Tokyo Tahiti  with beautiful wife who will spread her buns want me to fuck her grab my balls at least once a day

there is a star in north sky that shines i understand you looking away when pain gets too great please look into my eyes when throbbing subsides

don’t make it any harder than it has to be please find it in your heart to forgive me i am so sorry

yup i’ve got cash guns friends in Canada Mexico Netherlands France first let’s make a run for the border  then later think about a boat

oh yeah one last remark fuck you haters bigots greedy bastards all you big city fat cats small town big fish fearful suburban housewives over-cautious grannies gangsters politicians real-estate lawyers moneylenders fraudulent priests fuck you all you movie actor phony smile celebrities cliché skinny jean cowboy boot rock stars all you left-wing right-wing tea-party outer-space inner-space freaks fuck you i can’t don’t know how to explain myself fuck you all

Lost in my own country Chapter 6-8

Chapter 6

I thought I could never be this happy and also this scared than this anymore.

The day after I lost my virginity, I couldn’t even walk, or I didn’t want to walk. I hid myself on my little bed and didn’t go to school. My roommates are very concerned about me, asking me if I am ill. It is impossible for me to tell them what happened last night, but since the question made my face blushed, I just told then I had a fever.

I never thought, sex, is like this, it didn’t feel well, and it is quite different than what I thought. I couldn’t understand why it is such a taboo and why parents tell us it is bad, while the books are saying it is so good. I knew something down there changed, and something of me changed, I think I am a woman now.

a WOMAN. This is what Chinese believe. after a girl loses her virginity she will become a woman; not the first period, not when the time she could find a job, not when she got married., not when she give birth to the babies, not when she understands what the life is really about. Is that day, when she lost her virginity, she become a woman.

The hymen, for thousands years, is considered as the most important thing of a girl in China, even now a days it is still one of the most precious qualities to be considered when a Chinese guy is looking for a wife. Girls who are still virgin before they get married are very proud of themselves, they can be arrogant to every guy. But in recent years they started complaining about the new technology, how it has cut down this superiority of them. It is the advertisement of the hymen repair you can see in every Chinese newspaper.

I once went to the hospital with a friend named Nan who also broke the divine hymen by having sex with her boyfriend they were together for 4 years. She didn’t even sleep in the same bed with him for four years, but one day Nan decided to give herself to him cause she thought they will get married as the guy promised, but this asshole dumped her two months after that. She was pregnant.

Of cause she’s pregnant, I don’t think most of the Chinese guys understand what a condom is. I knew they would pay more to the prostitute just because they don’t want to wear a condom, ‘It is much more comfortable’, they said.

‘Guys are all like this, they only care about you when you have something that they are after, and can’t get it. But once you decide to open your heart and give everything about you to them, they will take it and run away as fast as they can.’ She said, lying on the white bed of the hospital.

Nan came to me one day while I was reading a book in the school’s garden, ‘I have to borrow some money.’ She said, as she kept her voice down.

‘Sure,’ I always help my friends without too many thoughts, ‘Care to tell me what for?’

‘That bastard, I saw him with another girl on the street two days ago, I questioned him who is this girl, she asked me to fuck off and never show up in front of him again.’

I put down my book, looked at her shocked.

She continued, ‘I am pregnant, I have to do an abortion, I already booked the hospital, with student card I can get 20% off. I have to do it in a short while, or it is going to be danger…the doctor said.’

I think my face turned completely red, I heard people gossiping about some girl that went bad and had to have abortion, but I never thought this can actually happen to my friend.

‘Sure, how much do you need?’ I try to keep calm, actually I am more worried about her health.

‘I need 1200 more.’

‘This much?! I remembered those advertisements on the newspapers said the abortion only cost 200, and now you even have student discount!’

‘So, you are naïve.’ She pat my shoulder, ‘ I need a surgery of hymen repair right after it! And are you coming to the hospital with me? that bastard does not want to pay, not even come to the hospital with me.’

I knocked my head, looking at her under the warm sunshine of spring. Nan skin is pink as a fresh peach, she is 19, full of energy. But her face is different, she is so serious, that makes me serious. I don’t have time to panic or be sad for her, she has made the decision so fast, and so in order. All I can do is follow her. She is always like this just determined about everything. But this time, just one time she lost it to the guy she loved, she failed.

The doctor who gave her this surgery was so cruel! Especially when she saw Nan’s ID say that she is only 19, she gave her a disdainful look for 3 seconds. But Nan ignored her, just asked for the time when she will have the first surgery.

‘In one hour.’ The doctor quick checked the form, then turned her face around.

‘But…’ I wanted to ask her how come there’s no medical checking before Nan’s abortion, but Nan quickly stopped me by catching my hand, then she dragged me out of the office.

‘The abortion is only 200! How good you think it will be?’ Nan sits down at the plastic bench in the hall.

‘Come on,’ I can’t believe this, ‘so you just gonna risk your life cause you want to save money?’

‘I have no choice!’ She become a bit emotional, ‘My parents only gives me 700 a month, that bastard didn’t give me anything, now I owr you and some other people debts, I have to save every penny of the next three months in order to pay you back! You think I want it?!!’

Tears came out from Nan’s beautiful eyes, she took in a deep breath and wiped away those tears before they dropped.

‘…’ I suddently feel so sad, she is right, even I have to be careful with my money for the rest of this month. But also I have this anger engaged in my mind, I hate Nan’s boyfriend so much, I wish I could find him and tell him how poor Nan is now, and I would slap him if he is not going to help her.

‘You don’t need to pay me back that quickly, I am fine, you know my parents give me more every month.’ I said to her.

‘Thanks.’ She looked back to me, her eyes are red, ‘I will never forget about this, you are a good friend.’

Now she’s lying on the bed, just suffered from two surgeries in three days, the pink color is gone, her face is white as the sheets, almost merged with the bed. She is still wearing her own T-shirt and skirt. She said she couldnt wear the jeans after the abortion, it is no good, she read it on a website. I never read that website, but somehow I know what is she talking about. Maybe because I also lost my virginity.

‘I already told your professor that you need to stay in the hospital for a week. because the surgery of  your appendix.’ I cut the apple into small pieces and fed her with a knife.

For years after that, everytime I heard a girl who had an appendix surgery I will be suspicious of it.

‘OK.’ She closed her eyes, slowly chewing the apple.

‘You don’t worry, Just relax here, I will have to go back to the school this afternoon for classes, Long will come to pick me up.’ I put down the knife, then looked up to the injection bottle. There is still a lot of medicine in there, she will be fine after this, I hope.

Nan suddently opend her eyes, she looked at me with the sceptical eyes, ‘You are not sleeping with Long are you?’ She asked.

‘No.’ I denied immediately.

‘Don’t.’ She closed her eyes again and said, ‘You are only with him for two months, but don’t even give it to him before you registered married.’

Chapter 7

Actually, just two weeks after I lost my virginity to Long, we broke up.

It was Saturday, we were sitting at the restaurant that we always go, I picked up some chicken and put it in his bowl. He didn’t notice, because he is concentrated on his mobile. Recently he always concentrated on his mobile phone, I wanted to know who are these people keep sending him messages and why he has to respond to everyone, I had to top up his phone twice a week, or his phone will be out of service,  which means I can’t find him anymore. I have to keep an eye on him; one is because I love him so much, two because I am his now, and three I have to make him marry me.

It was only April, but Chongqing has already become the hottest city in China, I was a bit frustrated cause I dislike hot weather very much, it makes me moody.

A girl with long curly hair is suddently stand right next to our table,

‘I am pregnant.’ She said.

Long stood up and dragged her away before I could even see her face clearly.

I finished my lunch, I even finished his lunch, then I stood up and walked back to the dorm. While I was walking, I sent him a message.

‘Don’t explain, it is over.’

He didn’t respond. He disappeared for a week.

During his week, I still get up every morning, go to school, go to lunch, go to dinner, go to sleep.

All by myself.

I was surprised I didn’t feel this pain I supposed to feel after this. I got confused. Is it because I didn’t love him that much as I thought? Or, I was just so shocked that my heart was not keep up with my mind.

A week later he called me and asked me to meet him in a café. I went there and sat in front of him. I wish I could release my anger on him, but I didn’t feel anger when I saw his face.

He said that was his ex-girlfriend, he was dating her while he was taking the spring holiday back in his hometown. He didn’t know that she was pregnant, but now he solved the problem, he paid for her abortion.

Is this make him a good boy? I mean compare with Nan’s ex, Long already a man enough to take care of his own business.

I almost forgive him right after.

Then he said, he couldn’t just let her be alone after this, so he will still need to take care of her. But I am still his girlfriend, it is just, he has another girlfriend back home.

I stood up and walked away.

That night, while I was lying on my bed, I felt something down there, I went to the toilet and found out it was my period. I took care of it and went back to my bed.

The tears suddenly went all over my face as soon I covered myself, it couldn’t stop, just kept going. The cry has no sound. I huddled myself up, I told myself, this is it, the feeling of heart breaking.

That time, a sad song could just make me cry the entire night.

I was sad for months. Until that semester end. I thought maybe this is the end of my life, I was even thinking maybe I should get a hymen repair, but I didn’t. I knew even If I could fool other people, I can’t fool myself.

Chapter 8

I was like an un-dead, I don’t talk to people and I cry almost everyday. It was a Friday, all my roommates were out shopping, they didn’t ask me to go with them, cause they knew I wouldn’t go. They tried to make me feel better for a while, but I couldn’t get better, so they kind of just let me be. They cut off all the information about Long, They never talk about him in front of me anymore.

I decided to watch a movie online tonight, I think I should choose something funny, maybe also stupid, stupid enough that I can’t even think about anything while I watch it, so I wouldn’t somehow connect it to Long.

So I watched the American Pie.

All the people are drinking beer, they become crazy after that, crazy fun.

What a brilliant idea! Alcohol! How come I never thought about it! And all this sad people go drinking? They must do that for reasons! And reason is the alcohol can magically stop their sadness, or, at least for a short while!

I looked at the watch, 8:30, if I hurry up now, I can catch the late bus before the school closed up at 11:30.

I quickly got up and put on my T-shirt and jeans.

I got excited just because of this idea, I blamed myself for not having this idea earlier. I stood outside the school, I knew where to go. The bar street, the place all the students talks about, the nightlife symbol of Chongqing.

Deyi.

Did I mention that Chongqing is the biggest city of the world? Deyi is in another district, by bus, it took me one hour to finally get there.

It is my first time I saw anything like this for real. Nine o’clock, this place already shinning up with all the fantastic lights, one club next to one club, taxis are already waiting in line to pick up the drunk people, all the girls are wearing skirts and high-heels, their hair is stunning and all of them are wearing lots of make-up.

On the street people are laughing and smoking, but most of them just go back to the clubs after they finished the cigarettes.

This is the real adult world!

I feel a bit ashamed that I am not fully dressed up, I must look young and naïve to all of these people, so I decided that I am not going into the clubs, there is an outdoor bar, a lot of people are sitting there, they seems more casual to me.

As soon I walked close to this bar, one waitress already showed up in front of me and asked me if I am looking for anyone.

I shake my head, feel a bit shy. She must think I am a bad girl for coming out drinking by myself. Luckily she didn’t say anything else, just lead me to a small table in the corner.

As soon I sat down, I could feel there are a lot of eyes are looking towards to my table, I felt more shy, pretending I was checking the menu.

Actually the alcohol is much cheaper than I thought it will be. I brought all my money with me, I just wanted to get drunk, don’t want to think about how am I gonna survive the rest of the month. But now looking at the menu, I think I can take at least ten beers tonight and still manage.

I was wrong. I got drunk right after the second beer.

Maybe I drank it too fast, I had to, I don’t know anybody here, besides drinking the beer I don’t know what else to do. I felt like I should go to the toilet.

I can hardly walk straight, but I think my mind is still clear, I know what I am doing, just a bit not under 100% control. When I came back to the table, I don’t know why I started thinking about Long again, even stronger! All the nice memories all comes up, but they all just makes me more sad! Why? Why do I miss him so much more than I when I was sober? Isn’t alcohol supposed to make people forget about things???

I start crying, I was just so sad that I couldn’t control myself even in public, I tried to keep it low, quickly wipe off the tears on my face.

Someone sat next to me, and gave me a napkin.

‘How are you darling?’ He asked. He speaks English.

I looked up, and I saw his face. Yes, he is a foreigner, he sits there with his big nose and golden hair.

I was surprised. Of course I saw foreigners before, but I never got the chance to talk to one, plus there are not so many of them in Chongqing, sometimes people on the street just stare at them like they are aliens.

I stopped crying immediatlly , because I become nervous, this is my first time speaking to an foreigner. Luckily my English is good since I was in High school, I answered him.

‘I am fine. Thank you.’

‘You are fine?’ He seems confused, this time I saw his eyes so clear, they are blue, so beautiful!

‘Yes.’ I can’t remove my eyes from his face. It is my first time being this close to a foreigner.

‘OK. ’ He drank some of his beer, he noticed my empty glass, so he asked me, ‘Would you like to have another one?’

‘OK.’ I don’t know what else to say! I am too nervous! I feel I will do all the things he asked to do, it is like his face has magic!

He asked the waitress to come over to our table, ordered another beer in Chinese. His Chinese is not so good, but I am already very surprised. I saw him take out his money and was going to pay, that’s when I woke up, I quickly speak the Chinese to the waitress, ‘Don’t take his money, I will pay by myself.’

‘Why not?’ She asked.

‘What do you mean why not, I don’t know him , I will pay by myself!’ I am a bit angry, how come this waitress just assumes that his is my very old friend that I can let him pay for my bill.

As soon as he saw me take out my money, he understood what I was telling the waitress, he said “no no, I will take care of it.”
‘No.’ I refused, the waitress took away my money.

He still hold his money in his hand, seems confused, but soon he started smiling. This time is me who got confused.

‘Why you are laughing?’ I asked

‘I am not laughing my darling, I just found you very funny. I am similing.’

‘Why you call me darling? I am not your darling, I just met you.’

This time he really starts laughing.

I don’t know what I said was wrong to make him laugh like that, he laughed so loud that people around start looking at him.

He finally stopped, ‘Hi my friend, My name is P.’ He gave me one of his hands.

‘Hello P, my name is Amy.’ I shaked his hand.

He cheers with me, I am very happy, now I have a foreign friends, this is something new!

‘So where are you from?’ I looked at his face clearly again. I really cannot tell the difference between the looks of people from different countries.

‘Denmark.’

‘Denmark? Where is that?’ I try to search this word in my mind.

‘Dan Mai!’He said in Chinese. I guess he get this questions a lot in China.

‘Oh! Dan Mai, in north Europe, yes I know that place! The little mermaid!’ I said, hope he will not think that I know nothing about the world.

But he started laughing again, I really don’t understand why he is laughing at me.

‘My darling, you are so funny!’ He said.

‘No I am not. And I don’t understand why you keep laughing like that. Are you too drunk?’

‘Maybe!’ He looked back to his beer, then he finally stopped laughing, he looked at me, and asked, ‘So what’s wrong? Why you were crying? I noticed you when you came here, I am sure you are not coming here often.’

‘You are right, Iit is my first time here. I am unhappy because of my ex-boyfriend.’

‘Oh, typical.’ He said.

‘What do you mean typical?’

‘Girls at your age, easy heart-breaking.’

‘I am! So can we stop talking about this?’

‘Dar…friend, has anyone ever told you that you are a little bit rude? Just a little bit!’

‘Why am I rude? I didn’t ask you to go away when you sat next to me, and I didn’t let you to pay for my beer, I didn’t get angry when you laughing at me. You know? Actually I think you are a little bit rude!’

‘Amazing, you actually have a point!’ P raised up his beer, ‘ Cheers for being rude!’

After that we talked more. I got to know that he is already in China for 6 years, and now he is teaching English in Chongqing. That gives me a bit of relief, a teacher is always a respectful job. At least he is not some bad people. I trusted him more.

Soon this beer finished, I am very dizzy, but I am not sad anymore.

‘Another beer?’ P asked.

‘No, I have to go back to school. The gate will be closed soon.’

‘Fuck the school, it is so far. If you want, you can stay at my place tonight, I just live around the corner.’

‘No.’ I am a bit angry, how can he ask a girl go to stay at his place the first night they meet, no, not even two years after they meet!

‘Easy! Fine, good-bye then, remember I am almost here every night, next time when you feel sad you can come to see me, I am your friend.’

portrait of artist as young man

 

in my family conversation is seldom thoughtful questioning filled with wonder quiet pauses instead it is sociable banter teasing goading spontaneous gratuitous remarks clever embellishment excessive flattery it is an ancient system passed down patronage pecking order nepotism sycophancy near to impossible for me to be honest in presence of their overwhelming vanity when it comes to family gatherings my voice isn’t very strong my family’s joking squelches my chirp they are each and all more loud sarcastic faster wittier more crude outrageous more funny loud gregarious sanguine Mom embarrasses herself with uncalled for flirtations (her mental state rapidly deteriorating) everyone laughs boisterously they snap kid exaggerate amplify taunt i can hardly get word in i need to repeat myself several times or more to be heard my voice is minor i struggle to tell story they listen politely then rush back into their rowdy repartee i am way too sincere way too naked in my ineptitude my stomach ties in knots biting lip shivering from cold fear what’s going to happen pitch black in front of me voice inside screams please i need help so bad please make it easier i’m lost in all this commotion drama hunger lack of clarityChicago 1980 Odysseus always revered cousin Chris is taller tan-skinned handsomer stronger protective of Odysseus knowing he is frivolous liability tags along with Chris and his prosperous trader friends advantaged echelon inherited wealth educated white young men they float above everyone else their tastes in clothes furnishings run Brooks Brothers Burberry Giorgio Armani Ralph Lauren John-Paul Gautier Paul Smith Emile Zegna Salvatore Ferragamo their preference in women run typically blonde large breasts tight butts make-up painted nails they think Odysseus is a freak because he usually chooses females none of them want Odysseus likes skinny girls flat chests glasses he knows he is an extraneous art pet to Chris and his group

Chris joins newly built state of art fitness facility pricey membership accesses all of Chicago’s fast track shakers movers politicians lawyers pretty people Odysseus has his limits he does not have money to join also he dislikes snooty elitism several times Chris invites Odysseus as guest Odysseus feels insecure outsider Chris always includes Odysseus pays for dinners they begin with round of doubles then 2nd round of doubles before glancing at menu Chris drinks Canadian Club on the rocks Odysseus follows they raucously order extravagant meals with appetizers 3rd 4th 5th rounds of doubles after pricey dinner at chic restaurant Chris’s group rendezvous at bar or club they order round of drinks tip lavishly sip drink glare around room leave barely touched drinks walk out with look of disdain they scavenge more bars in search of females or some intangible attraction Odysseus is never certain what they are looking for or what is the source of their contempt each wears black leather jacket carries huge wads of cash $20s $50s $100s folded stuffed in front pockets no wallets or clips

the Red Meat palace or Chang’s Szechwan grill are their favorite restaurants as many as 8 men sit at table pack mentality prevails for dessert course they pull out small brown bottles filled with cocaine if it is Friday night Chris’s pad is frequently elected females other arrangements settle bill depart restaurant one night Odysseus arrives early at Chang’s wanders downstairs into woman’s boutique salesgirl named Fiona greets him they hit it off he invites her to join him and his hosts upstairs after her shift is done Fiona arrives as dessert is about to be served table of men look desirously at Fiona beams Odysseus and Fiona along with Chris Phil Tom go to Odysseus’s place Fiona is perhaps 22 petite lovely with deep blue eyes set wide apart long eyelashes brown thick hair cut to shoulders high breasts pink nipples fragrance of linden flowers delighted by male attention Fiona sucks fondles each men are quite intoxicated Odysseus and Phil are only capable to sustain erections Odysseus stares mesmerized at Fiona’s extraordinarily swollen labia she notices his fixation grins blushing men shout commands but in actuality Fiona is in charge reducing each of them to little boys vying for her attention near conclusion she requests they form circle around her ejaculate on her chest she fondles them touches herself men laugh mockingly as if to compensate for their lack of performance Tom picks up plastic dart gun aims it at Fiona she laughs crawls on all fours Tom fires dart hitting her on butt Phil grabs gun from Tom reloads another dart suddenly it feels like fraternity stunt Odysseus goes along offended by his own complicity to him episode feels more like men having sex with each other than being with a woman telephone rings it is Odysseus’s latest love pursuit she tells him she is on her way over everyone rushes to put on clothes change bed sheets they depart within minutes she arrives finally ready after weeks of romancing to put out for him after that night when Chris and Odysseus get buzzed in bar Chris routinely speaks the line to women have you ever been done by 2 cousins one night at Green River tavern woman squeezes milk from her nipple into shot glass dares cousins to drink Chris laughing turns down her offer Odysseus shoots back shot of milk then takes swig of Irish whiskey cousins go see Billy Idol at Odysseus’s insistence they stand near front stage young girls screaming after show driving home in Chris’s Fiat Spider Chris complains his ears are ringing i don’t know how i’ll be able to work tomorrow Odysseus nods like he hears hollers out window hey little sister shotgun!

Mom and Dad want their son to enjoy fruits of burgeoning affluence they feel certain what they are doing is best for him they rent quarter seat at Chicago Mercantile Exchange they originally promised full seat but they are overextended Odysseus enrolls in trading course he learns to trade Certificates of Deposit and Eurodollars which are recently established markets suddenly Odysseus has lots of cash his parents are dishing out he does not know what he is doing newly launched markets lack investment and fleece young men of their parent’s money his friends surroundings change he loses sight of himself he is a thoroughly incompetent trader bleeding cash scatters money between harebrained panicked trades or cocaine girls $1000. wristwatch when Mom and Dad see jewelry they become furious in a way he represents his parent’s design for how to build successful son yet their plan is going dreadfully wrong he wants to stand up speak out against Dad and Mom he is not courageous enough to counter their weight he wants to express with more assurance his passion to pursue painting and writing isn’t fact he graduated from art school evidence enough of his aspirations commodities exchange is last place in the world he belongs Odysseus is risk taker but he is not aggressive or entrepreneurial only lesson he has learned with respect to his parents is how to run away

by all appearances cousin Chris is brilliant trader in reality Chris is hooked up with powerful crooked brokers they use him as their bagman he covers losing trades and is compensated or offsets winning side of profitable trades subsequently dealt his share Chris is not a criminal he stumbles into profit-making situation when certain conditions are flexible to advantages Chris is diligent hard worker the vast sums of money he earns do not distort his personality he is always generous shielding of Odysseus gold trading pit becomes so shady S.E.C. intervenes relinquishing exchange’s contract Chris and his bosses walk away unscathed having made their bundles

Mom and Aunt Rita run social itinerary for family including birthdays holidays all other gatherings where family will meet changes by the minute depending on Mom and Aunt Rita’s caprice checking in by telephone at least an hour before is mandatory arriving at destination Mom and Aunt Rita insist on specific table location seating arrangement it is important they be seen viewed by others at restaurant they never sit near kitchen or washrooms or where there is too much noise light away from drafts who sits next to who is crucial round tables are their favorite preferring backs to wall looking out so they can nod wave Mom rules from proud pedestal Dad upholds chain of command sometimes he irritably gripes Aunt Rita immediately comes to Mom’s defense Dad points finger back off Rita you’re way out of line where do you come up with a remark like that Mom mediates Max that’s enough in a way the sisters are spoiled little girls over-indulged by their father they believe their opinions and tastes are the best most correct everyone in family are subordinate to their no and don’t Mom and Aunt Rita routinely criticize Odysseus’s semantics oppose his observations critical of his clothes conduct they handily misconstrue his comments to mean fodder for their amusement Mom and Aunt Rita’s efforts to keep prim proper decorum cause resentment Odysseus feels constricted by his subservient role in drama of family he fails to understand their care

Odysseus busts out of markets leaving behind alarming debts for family to pay off he feels humiliation disgrace plunges into bottomless sleepless despair hides in house door locked window shutters shut phone rings unanswered hates life willfully wants to destroy himself there is no way out after week Chris comes by to see if he is all right Odysseus is reluctant to let Chris in Chris commands be a man get a grip on yourself Odysseus replies maybe i’m not a man he feels failure shame realizes he has become traitor to himself he wants to look at existence head on embrace it but all he knows are dishonor regret deception he conceives his being has been stolen he wants his life back but knows not how to recover it he feels deep in obligation to Mom and Dad thinks to escape from Chicago but his parent’s control is crushing he wakes late drinks black coffee smokes cigarettes marijuana hangs out alone sky changes from light to dark to light phone rings he reads Nietzsche Sartre frequents Dirty Hole punk rock dive several blocks from residence becomes orphan of night drinking drugging

January 5 2011 30 years have passed Chris marries fathers son becomes best father to his child he can be leaves markets in late 80’s Dad dies in ’91 Odysseus leaves Chicago in 1994 he manages to paint some paintings write some words stomach ties in knots biting lip shivering from cold fear what’s going to happen dirty pink gray skies behind pitch black in front sometimes you need to take a step back in order to move forward Mom says she worried enough about money when she was younger and isn’t going to worry about it anymore her entire life she boasted i’m saving for my children but in the end she saved solely for herself Odysseus never learned to stand on his own all he ever wanted is to love and be loved he wonders what will happen next

If you guys dont read this and comment ill burn this place down

    "Somewhere off in the deep woods, you know between evergreen coated
mountains and a river, a train of thought was violently derailed; the
cars scattered, strewn about like a game of pyrotechnic Pick up
Sticks." I said with a slight grin.
    All this mayhem caused by one word, or grunt rather, from this
indomitable behemoth of an opponent that sat before me. I look back
down at my legions, trying desperately to regain whatever inkling of
control I had once possessed. All ten of my fingers squirming at a
furvirous pace; it was of no use at this point to try and conceal my
blatant nervousness.
    Again the noise came; I think it meant hurry up. I could faintly hear
the soles of his heavily worn wing tips tapping impatiently at the
Burmese marble slab at which we were  seated. Searching for another few
moments more of coveted contemplation, I took a glance up at the face
of the beast.
    He just peered out at me from behind his facial hair. His eyes look
squinted and black under the mass of eyebrow hair he had accumulated
over the years. The beard on this mans face starts, or ends rather,
just a centimeter or so from the eye sockets, where it is blended with
the runaway eyebrows. The combination eye, nose and throat hair hung in
a very unkempt, but fascinating manner to about the belt line, where it
tapers off into a point of sorts. On the reverse side, the labyrinth of
black hair dangled un-tethered down to and beyond the belt line and
looked as though something were being concealed inside. One time I had
asked for a reason, an explanation for the tangled mop of hair
follicles; he told me he wanted to be able to "tuck it into his
pockets." If it was intended to be a joke, the humor was totally lost
upon me.
    "Rook B-five."
     Immediately came his coarse response, "Bishop C-three."
    Again in a state of dismay, my eyes darting about rapidly at an R.E.M
sleep speed. The precision of his movements is baffling, and disturbing
for every time I speak it seems to cost me someone. Searching the
cavernous interior of my cranium for the list of scenarios appropriate
to my current circumstance is almost always a struggle. Today it seems
a bit more difficult because of my opponents sheer strategic prowess.
The man must have something along the lines of a photographic memory,
the evidence of my theory is displayed openly in his ability to be
prepared seemingly before I have decided on what it is that I am going
to do.
    One of the sidewalk meat-merchants just beyond the perimeter of the
woods knows this man as Larry; "Hairy Larry with the desert camouflage
jacket." The last name, which is stitched onto his right lapel is now
far less than legible, but resembles the word "Flint."  I have to
assume that this is not Larry's jacket because if my last name were
Flint, "in like Flint" would be my favorite thing to say; and said
often it would be. The black denim pants that cling desperately to
Larry's hips, look as though they only leave his body periodically,
perhaps just 3 times a year. Underneath the zipper sheath, and just
inside the pockets the material is still as dark and fresh as the day
of manufacturing; which leads me to believe that they have never once
been washed. On his knees and up towards the spot where the "gluts" and
thighs meet are holes; through which can be seen small portions of
Larry's skin that are considerably less coated with nappy tangles.
        The corners of his eyes long ago became the epicenter from which
shoot the deep laugh lines that tell me volumes about experiences he
may have had. Larry's two deep hazel eyes, most often kept behind the
protective shelter of his mighty eyebrow hair dart about rapidly,
sometimes making him look nervous or demented; but to me they look
frightened and timid. Larry is the sort of man you see struggling down
the sidewalk with an awkward pace and assume is about to snap; but in
all actuality, he is more likely to start crying.
    I can only imagine how difficult it is to try and make meaningful eye
contact if you were six foot one; and covered with a thick coating of
matted brown hair. This does not stop Larry, no not for one instant
could it keep him from being the bell of the "panhandlers ball"; a
social butterfly circumstances permitting. Only a connoisseur of combat
or those who can spot well kempt wing tips on a wayfarer would know
Larry as a well educated and nimble conversationalist.
    I have seldom seen legendary Larry elsewhere but the great marble cube
of conquest we sat at presently; but occasionally the sight of a
camouflaged neanderthal shuffling down Forty-ninth street can be seen.
On April  second, nineteen and ninety six, I had the good fortune of
running, literally headlong into Larry for the first time.
Coincidentally he and I both had business on West Forty-ninth that fine
spring day. Coming about a corner at great speed while juggling a
twenty pound briefcase and a "tall drip" in an obscenely tall paper
mug, I stopped microns from distributing my steaming caffeinated load
evenly all over Larry, who just brushed enough disgruntle eyebrow hair
away so that a brief wink could be seen. I said that I was dreadfully
sorry about the near collision but needed to keep on my way, for I was
uncharacteristically late for my appointment of destruction with a man
that calls himself Dr. Payne.
    Larry let out a bit of a snicker at that point, just a few puffs of
air escaping on each syllable.
    "Dr. Payne was invited to be my opponent in your absence and was
consequently excused promptly." Another sputter of giggles trickled
 from between his teeth as he leaned back into the alien stride he had
become accustomed too.
    Before he had sidled on too far I spoke up; "Wait" I said hesitantly.
"Any man who could dispose of a highly reputable figure such as Payne
in twenty minutes or less must be more than worthy of my time."
    Larry's foot stopped mid-stride atop a pebble that ground audibly to a
halt beneath the pressure then turned to me with a brown toothed smile
and said, " I've all the time in the world."        That was six years ago.
Today, every Sunday, at noon hour, we meet at the two ton stones, and
settle disputes ages old over opposing colors and squares. Once he had
told me over a game, that I was intentionally dragging out, that he had
learned the game from his "here one day and gone the next, junkie of a
father."
    "How could a junkie teach a game, as complex as this, so well?"
    "He couldn't; but I could read"
    "Knight A-one."
    "Queen A-one." His reply calm and calculated, rehearsed even.
    The little voice in my head was shouting and throwing furniture. A man
this crazy should not be able to agitate me so, and yet he does, with
astonishing brutality. Larry truly humiliates me; the way his sand
paper voice penetrates my soul, makes me quiver with inferiority. Slow
unwavering movements, undoubtedly planned out minutes in advance,
leading inevitably to my swift demise. Three hundred and thirty-six
scrimmages have taught me little but to look for genius in even the
most unlikely places. Larry is the only man I know that drinks wine
 from a water bottle while holding court; at the head of a long line of
challengers in the most central of parks.
    My tie was flapping in the wind, over my left shoulder as my right
hand made the last move of the day.
    "Queen E-three."
    As the last bit of  "e"  left my lips the first leaf of autumn fell;
kind of symbolic of the days events. The end of the year was coming
indeed. Late at night Larry sporadically introduces himself to my
thoughts; where does Larry go in the winter? The leaf plummeted
gracefully for nearly thirty feet before taking refuge on the ground
just beneath the tree it had departed from, the tree just behind
Larry's left shoulder.
    "The leaves have fallen; much like you my friend."
    "Without much resistance and over a short span of time?"
    "I was going to say gracefully...Queen A-three...check and mate."
    "You are a filthy cheater Larry, a filthy cheater; I will see you next
Sunday same time"
    Larry just nodded at me, and then to the fellow who was standing in
line behind me.

this is my disease

 

this is my disease

here i am age 6 stealing candy from a shop on Broadway

here i am age 7 pulling a girl’s panties down around her knees while she’s swinging upside down from jungle gym bars

here i am age 8 Jackie K shows me how to masturbate to this day i’ve never looked back

that’s me age 9 creeping into my sister’s bedroom into her sleeping girlfriend’s adjoining bed concerning my sister she’s a great gal but i’ve never been physically attracted to her

this is my disease

here i am age 10 with 4 grammar school buddies shoplifting at Marshal Fields department store we got caught sent home and severely punished

here’s me age 11 erasing and altering test scores in my 6th grade teacher’s grade’s book while class is out to recess

here i am age 12 repressing my true voice and lying to my parents about everything

this is my disease

this is me age 13 being shipped off to boarding school

that’s me age 14 getting kicked out of boarding school then shipped off to another boarding school

there’s me age 15 with Kent stealing girl’s purses from Pink Panther lounge in Rogers Park

here i am age 16 stealing Mom’s sleeping pills trading to score my first heroine fix sick as a dog vomiting by the side of the road

this is my disease

this is me age 17 running away from home to Haight Ashbury CA waking up with ants crawling in my hair strung out on methadrine and acid in Berkley crash house

and there i am age 18 running from tear gas and police Billy clubs in Lincoln Park and rioting in Grant Park at the 1968 Democratic Convention

that’s me age 21 getting tricked by my parents into 3 month lockup at Institute Of Living Hartford CT

this is my disease

there i am age 23 practicing Transcendental Meditation and yoga with Cathleen at Hartford Art School

there’s me age 24 kissing with Cathleen in photo booth at the Century Theater in Chicago

there’s me age 25 working for my Dad while Cathleen is away with her family in Indonesia

there i am age 27 holding a teacher’s certificate from SAIC Mom’s idea i never wanted to discipline kids

that’s me age 30 wearing necktie working at CME and selling coke on the side

that’s me age 32 drunk slurring words telling Elizabeth and her Mom at expensive seafood restaurant i wasn’t fit to marry anyone

this is my disease

here i am age 32 stealing money drugs to support my urges

that’s me age 34 with my first puppy Taters

there’s me age 37 awarded Illinois Arts Council Grant spitting peeing splashing blood on charcoal drawings reading Marquis de Sade dismissing many girls

here i am age 41 exhibiting my first one-man show at Deson Sainders Gallery Chicago Dad died 6 paintings sold

that’s me age 44 leaving Chicago after too many dropped balls opportunities chances at love success no destination other than hope prayer of becoming a better person

there i am age 48 burying Taters deep in dirt in Wilmington NC

this is me age 49 working at a record store in Tucson AZ running in the mornings feeling so alone crying

this is me age 50 masturbating about anal sex peeing hairy females questioning to myself do any of those fixations actually matter in a real relationship

this is my disease

there i am age 55 living without drugs for more than 10 years swimming every day awarded yoga certification

this is me age 61 without  the affections of a woman for 15 or more years wondering if i’ll ever find love

here i am age 62 returning to Chicago worried about Mom’s illness hoping praying begging for just one more possibility to prove myself

this is my disease

this accounting does not include surviving throat cancer Hepatitis C severe compound fractured wrist and 2 suicide attempts

this is my disease

The Dramatic Exit

 

She took a deep breath and said a silent prayer right before she stepped on stage. This was her moment. To do or die they say. Her final monologue that she had made for the ending act of the play, and at the end, her character commits suicide by stabbing herself directly to her heart. Of course, she isn’t going to do that, and of course they weren’t going to use a real knife or dagger. How stupid they would be to use a real knife.

The curtains closed and prepared for her scene in a bedroom, reminiscing in memory of her now dead family. Her body started to shake. Without anyone’s permission, she tweaked, well made it more dramatic, the ending because she knew they would not allow it or even allow her to be part of the play. In her mind, she went through her plan and made sure that she had done the preparations correctly so this would work. Was she nervous? Oh, yes. Could she chicken out very easily in front of this huge audience? Most likely. But, she didn’t care. They didn’t know the pain she went through, they didn’t see the lies that held her together, or even the secrets burned into her. And, with this final performance, they will finally know, they’ll finally see.

She walked onto the stage behind the closed curtains, becoming one with her character. The curtains opened.

“Alone. Alone in a cold cruel world.” She picked up a scarf from the table set up. “Margret, may you rest in peace.” A tear ran down her cheek. It was part of the play of course but it wasn’t fake, it was a real tear. She was getting more nervous about this plan of hers, but it must go on. She continued her monologue, saying each word with deep passion. Finally, she walked towards the front where a vanity set was set up. There she picked up a silver dagger. “What beautiful creation this is, but so evil. Killed everyone in my family didn’t you? A lovely crafted piece of silver. Work so lovely, but only meant to destroy. How can there be such thing? How can there be something so beautiful, yet… so destructive?”

Back and forth, she walked on the stage talking more and more about the beautiful dagger, how destructive it was, and that she no longer had reasons to live because of this beautiful dagger. Her final lines were approaching and so was her dramatic ending.

“Because of you I have no reason to live, and no one to live for. You took everyone from me.” She looked at the mirror. “You monster! You took something so beautiful and made it evil!” she sobbed then walked back towards the vanity mirror, pulled on a drawer and pulled out a mask. The crowd gasped. Through the whole play they wondered who the murder was, never did they think it would be her.

“I knew it!” a random person in the audience yelled making the crowd burst into laughter.

She waited for the laughter to die down then resumed. “There’s nothing more I can do. Why did I bring this upon myself? Loneliness, and for what? Money? What a selfish deal. Now I want nothing, nothing at all. I rather be dead, to be stabbed straight through the heart like I’ve done to my loved ones.” She held the dagger tightly then looked at it then raised it. “To be stabbed straight through the heart like I’ve done to my loved ones,” she whispered, and quickly motioned the knife towards her heart, stabbing her deep into her heart. She collapsed on the ground.

The crowd burst into cheer, they all thought it was superb acting, only to be mistaken by the seeping blood on the stage. The director rushed towards the stage to check her pulse, but it was too late for she was dead. She saw the dagger and realized it wasn’t the prop they were to use. It was a real silver dagger.

“It’s real!” the director said shocked.

People started to gather around. All were shocked. Why would she do this? Why in front of everyone? People cried, and others were left speechless. They didn’t think something so tragic would occur so suddenly.

Where did the silver dagger come from? Many thought it was by accident that someone thought it was the fake one that was to draw back when being pushed towards something. Others thought someone placed it there on purpose. The real reason, she replaced the fake one with the real silver dagger. No one understood her, she felt unwanted, and she thought this was the only way to make them pity her. To realize what they’ve done to her was wrong, and now it was too late for them to ever apologize. This was her dramatic exit.

snow mermaids

 

(AP) another tragic report today of snow mermaids resurfacing a phenomena of drastic blizzard conditions young men lost in blinding blowing winds that sends a person forging foreword then back a step are sightings of real or imagined snow nymphs naked gorgeous young women giggling frolicking through 8’ snow drifts arching limbs grinding hips twiddling fingers toes swaying long hair spreading thighs exposing privates pinching nipples pursing lips gesturing to be seduced beckoning into freezing snow entrapments eventually freezing victims into lifeless blue corpses only additional forensic evidence left behind are definite female snow angel signature tracks in surrounding snowfall areas since onslaught of February 1st storm strike 18 male bodies missing 13 bodies recovered all found grasping clutching clinging desirously to unknown source 5 men still missing if you suspect the whereabouts of any of these individuals please contact 911 authorities warn men of a certain age wear appropriate winter gear scarves raised hats lowered eyes squinting look away without delay if you think you are witness to one or more of these deadly snow mermaids GPS immediately to Police postscript in the several thousand years since these occurrences have been recorded not a single snow mermaid has ever been caught

Because We’re Special

“So I grab him by the neck just to shut him, just so that I could hear myself think. He starts to wriggle around, whipping his arms and legs around like a puppet. I’m squeezing his neck pretty tight, enough so that no oxygen can pass through his windpipe. But I’m pretty calm.”

snow worms

 

(AP) Chicago vicinity hit hard yesterday by fierce bracing winds approximating unmanned chainsaws violently cutting across streets sidewalks heavy lakefront blizzard icy snow resembling slivers of broken glass slashing stinging skin news alert of return of dreaded snow worms attacking women and children technically known as Kinorhynchan Oligochaetes Nemertines these deadly transparent parasitic creatures slither slightly ticklish creep inside boots preferring hairless legs of children slimy vipers dig between toes devouring traces of toe jam then gnawing toenails until they reach foot bed where they fester in bitter dark brown green milky juices crippling little boys and girls in shaven women the elongated legless carnivorous ice worms disguised as mere icicle drippings climb up calf knee thigh vagina uterus ovaries feasting on female eggs their favorite food many northern women choose not to shave during winter season so as not to fall victim to the snow worms

Mighty Triumphs

 

The old veteran and his booze lingered in the booth, creating a fortress of newspapers and plates of food piles against one another until it became an explosion of colors and textures, an explosion of meats and sauces, a recreation of a limbs and organs washed onto a German shore. He was one of those veterans who reached his ends, spending the rest of his pension on conspiracy pamphlets, newspapers, and malt liquor. A Korean kid beckoned me while I was smoking a cigarette in the patio as I was talking to a pimp who used to be a regular at the restaurant. He has since moved to Mexico and opened up a brothel down south in some beach town and is living with his wife and kids. But back to the Korean kid. He complained that the old vet kept calling him and his friends chinks and niggers, and that the black guys a couple of tables away were getting ready to jump the old man with some brass knuckles and a wrench. I asked the kid why the black guys had a wrench to begin with, thinking it a rather cumbersome object to carry around. He looked at me half-crazed and said, “how the hell should I know. All I know is that the old farts pissing us off and if the black guys don’t jump him, we are.” I told the kid to relax and wait for me inside while I took down the address for the brothel in case I ever headed South.
I went back into the diner. When I approached the old man, I saw his table was a mini scrap yard. He had mustard smeared across his grey whiskers and wore plastic rimmed aviator prescription glasses as thick as coke bottles. I told the old man that he needed to haul ass before he got his ass kicked either by the Korean kids he called chinks or the black guys who heard you say nigger. The crusty old vet staggered up, toppling with the weight of his beer belly and drunkenness. He screamed at the Korean kids, threatening to kill them with a machete once they left the restaurant. One of the Korean kids who stood at six feet, and two hundred and ten pounds rose from his chair hovering over the old man. The vet shuffled towards the door at a sluggish pace, leaving a trail of crumbled napkins and unraveling pages from the newspaper. As soon as he stepped outside, he opened freely, his reign of verbal assault onto he world. He called me a traitor to the American people, and that he saw little shits like me with half of their faces blown off, mumbling memories of their wives or mothers, and sometimes even their regrets as they slowly dissolved into the dirt. He said that I had no idea of the freedoms he fought for or the horror he witnessed and that I was a piece of unadulterated cowardly shit, and incompetent, and that if he saw me on the battle field, he’d most likely stab me in the face with his bayonet. I lit another cigarette and looked into the moon. It was a full moon and the rest of the night was silent. I didn’t hear the sirens of a single squad car or the ripple of another ghetto bird, only the ranting of this mad man and his mighty triumphs on the bloody battlefield.
He went on like this until I told him to go home before I called the cops.
“I fucking dare you, you prick. I got shot in the leg three times. You think those amateur fucks can make me shit my pants?”
He started charging me with his pile of newspapers and pamphlets in tow as his fat gut jiggled in the night. He might as well have had a walker for the speed in which he “charged” me became tedious and I decided to meet him half way. I fingered a can of mace in my pockets but decided that the slight breeze in the air might actually blow the residual spray into my eyes and since I was wearing hard lenses, I’d rather not be optically challenged so instead I stood back and extended a leg and tripped the bastard so as to keep my hands warm in my pockets. The fucker went crashing. I thought his fall was a bit dramatic if you ask me. The fucker had no poise at all. He just went down for the count. He flayed his arms like a lame duck and dived nose first into the broken concrete. I heard a small crack and heard his growls smothered with the wetness of his blood as it drowned his face. His fat gut made it impossible for him to speedily recover and roll over and after about a minute of thrashing around for his surroundings, he eventually turned over and sought refuge in the crisp air to inflate his lungs and clear his airways of blood gushing from his nose. His left lens was cracked and his lip busted.

“Jesus why’d you have to go and fall like such a bastard?”

He didn’t say anything after he recovered. The fall sobered him up a bit and made him for the first time, self-conscious about losing his dignity. He seemed for a second to have regained insight into the trajectory of his madness and maybe even a desire to relinquish his relentless rage. His eyes seemed awake even as the broken shards of glass were shedding on his face. He sat up absorbing the futility of his life. I tried to help him up but he kept pushing me off as he heaved himself upright and staggered away into the night.

Cleo is out from being in

 

tension is mounting in Egyptian capital Cairo after military staged apparent show of strength during a 6th day of anti-government protests

“judging by the proofs she had before the effect of her beauty upon Caius Caesar and Gnaeus son of Pompey she hopes she will more easily bring Antony to her feet for Caesar and Pompey had known her when she was still a girl inexperienced in affairs but she is going to visit Antony at the very time when women have the most brilliant beauty and are at the acme of intellectual power” – Plutarch

Cleopatra strapped by great debt incurred under the reign of her father thought it imprudent to mint gold coins so only lesser metals were used to commemorate her reign gold would have survived the centuries better than baser metals

sword slashed blood-spattered stomach Antony’s corpse lies motionless across room Cleopatra drinks mixture of opium hemlock wolfsbane she holds squirming asp between her legs with wary hands around its neck she lifts snake to her naked breast its fangs strike at her arm handmaiden Iras dying at her feet another handmaiden Charmion adjusting Cleopatra’s crown before she herself falls

Egyptian Pyramids Sphinx Pharaohs mummies internet cell phone blackout police stations plundered weapons stolen gangs of armed men attack at least four jails across Egypt before dawn Sunday helping to free hundreds of Muslim militants thousands of other inmates as police vanish from streets of Cairo and other cities

the couple jumping holding hands out of burning World Trade Center building i understand it was defiant gesture of love over death maybe they hardly knew each other the sight of them just tore me up inside

Cleo is out from being in her hair is shorter figure looks too thin the neighborhood changed old ghosts new skins Cleo is out from being in walks same old streets yet does not recognize thinks thoughts never realized sees people she believes she knows but no one is who they seem they talk different tongues glance sideways scheme shaved heads fat wads of cash beautiful young women scattered dreams Cleo is out from being in she orders ice with glass of gin sips drink sits back grins voice from past out of nowhere whispers hey Cleo where you been there’s a debt to be settled truckload of hunger basement full of sin you up for paying your dues again Cleo is out from being in skeleton packed closet dirty dishes in sink she murmurs i just can’t win

who shot Gabby Giffords

 

o darling oh wohw ohhh dar-ling oh wohw wohw wohw dahrrr-leeeing some gunman walked into the mall

who shot Gabby Giffords? why what’s the reason for I said Sarah Palin with my cross-hair target I shot Gabby Giffords who saw her fall? I said gun laws people with my little eye I saw her fall who caught her blood? I said Daniel Hernandez who placed pressure to her wound with my finger caught her blood who shot Gabby Giffords? why what’s the reason for who’ll make the shroud? I said Cochise County ranchers pressuring for tougher Mexican border laws I’ll make the shroud with my thread and needle who’ll interpret what she stood for? I said Tea Party constituents with my pick and shovel I’ll dig her grave who shot Gabby Giffords? why what’s the reason for who’ll be the minister? I said Washington lobbyists with my little book I’ll be the minister who’ll be the clerk? I said the media if it’s not in the dark I’ll be the clerk who’ll carry Twitter I’ll fetch it in a minute I’ll carry the link who shot Gabby Giffords? why what’s the reason for who’ll be chief mourner? I said American people I mourn for my love I’ll be chief mourner who shot Gabby Giffords? why what’s the reason for who’ll carry the consequence? I said destitute lost their homes to Wall Street banks if it’s not through the night I’ll carry the moment who’ll bear the sadness? We said the world both man and woman We’ll bear sadness who shot Gabby Giffords? why what’s the reason for who’ll sing a psalm? I said the poet as she sat on her bush I’ll sing a psalm who’ll toll the bell? I said factory worker because I can pull I’ll toll the bell for all people of the land fell a-sighing a-sobbing when they heard the bell toll for poor Gabby Giffords. who shot Gabby Giffords? why what’s the reason for some gunman walked into the mall 9 mm Glock in his hand shot a bullet through her head 13 wounded 6 dead including little 9 year old girl Christina-Taylor Green who shot Gabby Giffords? why what’s the reason for

marching bands make me cry i don’t know why they’re so dazzling beautiful fun playing their instruments marching in uniformed unison they melt my heart eyes wet with sadness joy who shot Gabby Giffords? some gunman walked into the mall

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