Skip to main content

The Nhoc's, Sister and the bottom-men

poor broker in the open air-a-thon
The way it looks from here... Those are question marks that we'll just need to get around latter. Tall as my insignificance is it's way behind us now, She's been dipped in brown shoes with tapered trousers that look gray to the touch. They're definitely not average and they're not for a woman whose ankles are painted pugilist white. Don't you see that its your distemper that's our context Greg. It's like a shadow that calls the neighbors to share a quiet laugh Greg, She sneers keenly. It keeps buying the kids apples from the day cart and it jerks off in our bathroom at night. Don't tell me that story about pretend smoke rising in curling heaps or the meaningful dimness that settles over the room leaving it less dense less alert and more fucking honest. Don't tell me that story tonight.
Their's is a genderless intercourse that's beached at the edge of pornography. She needs someone to move the pictures and Greg has some extra coffee to share. This is the introduction to the whole back half of their affair and its delivered with this advice, Don't confuse any of this with something that matters. They're going to screw us Pree. They're going to grab his sister and run. I know it and so do you.
Glory Hollow must smell sweet from there John...
You're missing the point.
And you're drunk. I'm not having this talk when you're like this. The Nhoc's aren't leaving tonight. Gayle and I are too damned pregnant to pack. Besides the Old Man would find us between stops and drag our asses right back here.
That's not what I'm saying Pree. They're getting out. All of them. Even Person's fat in the stink. The deals gone flat he helped steal the pole. You and Gayle aren't going anywhere because their is no more Gayle or Greg. The Nhoc's are gone or dead already.

“They lied,” He yelled at her. “They lied to us.” He never called Mother, Priscilla.“Will you keep your voice down,” She plead. I saw it wasn’t having an effect. “If they hear, they’ll come. They’ll take him away. You know that!”“They can have him. They’ll take him away soon enough,” He shouted.“Not until his parochial's, that's the agreement,” She yelled. “They won’t take him away until then. They promised.”“They lied. It was a mistake. The sooner you realize, the better.”“Don’t ever say it, Never you fucker,” She yelled.“It went south. His sister never happened. They’re gonna take him from us, they’ll 86 the whole project,” He yelled. “Do you know what that means? Do you?”“What are you saying John?”“I’m saying it's him or us, you and me. It’s a lie Pree,” He grabbed a glass from the counter top and threw it past my mother. It bounced. I clearly remember the first one bounced. “The fucking Neoists are gonna come by one day and tidy up their bed and make it so we don't. All of my work will disappear. You’ll disappear. Even this fucking house will go. His sister's to blame. It’s her fault. They fucking screwed us Pree and now we’re gonna pay.”“You don’t mean that! Say you don’t mean it, John. Take it back,” She screamed.“We're not kids Pree. There aren’t any take backs. We’re dead. I shouldn’t have Listened, thrown in, whatever that fuck wanted,” He shot another glass over her head. It shattered, spraying glass everywhere.“And getting messed is your answer is it,” She hit him hard across the Jaw. I heard the crack and saw his head snap, left. On its return blur, he stretched his arms, sweeping everything from the counter. Then panting like a dog, he stopped. It wasn’t enough I saw see it. He knelt and picked up two mason jars that had escaped, hefting them as though he was weighing their potential. He looked at my mother then threw them with a flash. “Youvvv -ish,” he screamed.She ducked the first one. The second one caught her across the cheek, just below her right eye and she fell. Then everything went still.
 
  

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

In fashion, passive is to envy the figure smote.

Juniper, cedar and all that's old tends to settle on the bus in the corner by this door. It's not quick, joints are popping like failure. Left alone in the kitchen, looking for matches until it can light the stove. "There once was a night here," I've said as much before.
Corn conjured syrup from the corn that I brought from the back of the store. The simple pleasure of falling into that warm slip isn't like drying off or tempting the man at all. It's a lottery with pages of never knowing it all the first time that I was there.
A three way intersection where the street is wet. There's shrink-wrap that's been spooled across each of the pedestrian walkways. It's secured with bulky knots to the street lamp, the sign post and the scooter at each of the corners. There's a garage door or something else done up in yellow with blue steel doors. In the street there's garbage and soon enough an umbrella will join your car keys.
There's alr…

Got a dog in my earring (an instance of 3)

H' after everything is a mailbox stamp knows. Don't, it's all bad. Like a captain bad.


Own Mah Own Rose

What say the fallen in the Vestibule, late to dinner  Warm as a garden chair Yes to that, to tea and all  in the green as pale as peaches will get 

Turd Grinder IV: Keep me in line for a little while longer, just until you have to go again. The dark wave and the first jolt from my morning coffee are elements that have yet to sheep. Looking through a ton of old glass is hard. Sitting down and sifting through the odd bits of sparkle and dust left inside this hidey-hole at the bottom of this calendar. There's almost always more bitter mixed in there then there is the sweet.  Fontso: I'm so happy-happy to see that this work is being edited down. All of it's been sitting on the back of my desk forever. Where plastic gets soft in the sun and the desks window looks out south all day long it's always so hot. Turd Grinder IV: There's safety in warmth, freedom from reprisal among the pillows, in the soft down. The clock inside is as deep as a clouds kiss.  Fontso: Onion thugs, yello…