night of

the living

deadline

 

the sound

of liquid

being

poured

onto then

into itself.

 

unsaturated

and

passionate

moving

pictures of

dead actors.

 

it bites me

till i’m honest.

 

a pleasant,

albeit

convenient

and

vaguely

racist,

hallucination.

the

disembodied

head of uncle

remus gravels,

 

“muddy water

is mighty fine

to wade in,

but isn’t very

good for much

else. it’s not

deep water,

no sir. it won’t

take you

anywhere you

ain’t already

going and

don’t expect

salvation

should you

use it to sate

your thirst.

that said,

muddy water

is mighty fine

to wade in.”

 

i don’t believe

him and

appreciate the

sentiment, but

more see it

stopping to

smell a flower

growing in shit

and pesticide.

 

i grind

my teeth

into a

fine

amber

powder,

cut and

bump a

line, see

the future,

 

drink the dirty

bathwater of

a dime store

goddess

selling real

estate in the

afterlife.

 

a stainless

steel butter

knife

scraping the

carbon

from my

burnt toast

soul.

 

i make a

phone call

i shouldn’t.

 

frankenstein

-ed lines

from coffee

stained

spirals and

digital

post-its.

 

it feels

good to

push ink

into shapes.

 

apes in

asshole’s

clothes

all acting

the part.

 

i clerk in

a hollowed

out dump of

the last

video store

dinosaur

still roaming

the earth.

 

i wear my

mayberry,

the

customers

are

specters

passing

through

me. a

coworker

invites me

out from

under my

rock, to 

no one’s

surprise, i

disappoint

her.

 

in a

veterans’

basement

bar of the

american

legion on

58th & 8th,

 

the odds

were 5 to

32 and i

wasn’t

betting

on his

teeth.

 

he was a

priest

performing

free

exorcisms,

willing to

beat the

hell

out of

anyone

who asked

for it…

 

…he was

the only

one asking

for it.

 

it wasn’t

long before

someone

got up and

gave him it.

 

the other

patrons

nursed

drinks,

collected

dust,

burped

moths,

farted

cobwebs.

 

i tent my

fingers 

like a

cartoon

villain.

 

i edit old

words.

 

it’s most

important

to be kind.