Ive had this idea....

[champagne1982]

Reaching a dainty hand through the neck of the jar she looked at him, pulled out a slip of paper with a smile. She first read it to herself, then nodded and squeaked, "The stair tread needs fixin'. A hammer and a coupla' six-pennies oughta do it.

"Pound it down darlin' and show the world how well you can nail it. There's nothing like having a board come up off the damned porch and bite ya on the ass. It's sure to do your poker game a damned sight bit of good, too."

She loved repairman day. He'd do a little fix up without his shirt on and she could fantasize they were both new to it all. Like a kid when given a taste of the wine who wants the whole damned bottle, she wanted him, time and again, to do the things they did the first time.

 

[eagleyez]

My pants were too short and I had unmatched socks on.

"Jesus squid, you look like a sodbuster."

The crowd milled in the shade of Acer Rubrums and I stood next to the hearse man and we ignored the litany of "it was the caviar and fine champagne that got him," or "he was a heck of a guy when he wasnt drinkin," and the best, " he loved his life just a little too much." I thought briefly of the Green Knight and the Girdle.

The hearse man had Wilson Pickett on his box and Squint got bored and came and got me and as we walked away he said "it was his broken heart that got the poor bastard."

"Have you ever read "More Die of Heartbreak" by Bellow?" I was suddenly ready to talk. Excited even.

"Cut the shit, Squid," he said demurely.

I couldnt wait to get out of those funeral clothes.

 

[Guest]

 

[eagleyez]

Down at the hidden beach the hipsters were drinking Pumpkin Spice coffee, as we said "scuze me, pardon me, uh huh, oh thanks, scuze me, pardon me,"

Squintlips swore we had been this way before, last summer after Tomlin went back to London. I wasn't dressed for it, as usual on the slippery banks of the river hypothermia, frozen granite ledge inviting my chin to dance.

He turned left in his dark blue coat and smiled and said "follow me Squidboy."

I held tree limbs and traversed in my slippery shoes, "I dont recognize it, and how can you dive in a frozen river?"

"Only a bit farther gramps."

"I thought we were staying in tonite."

He looked at me with his jagged face.

"We're going out swimming, Squid."

 

[eagleyez]

Dragging ass out of the river I spied the blood above his breast, running down his right rib cage. There was mud there too, and his concave ribby torso was arched forward unaturally.

"Jesus H, Squintly, you've cracked yourself good there mate." The wateralder bristles of first spring tossed yellow pollen on us both, and he looked like an ochre wax doll, as we made for shore,

" I havent bled for years, wondered if I still could, quite frankly," he uttered as he ran his fingers thru the mixture of mud and blood and Acacia yellow dust. Just enough moon threw shadows under ribs and a dimpled scrawny jaw.

"next time you baptize me, do it with a garden hose. come to think of it you have been lanced and perhaps I should collect your blood in a grail. Hey, here is a rusty beer can."

He looked at me and laughed, "Your a rat bastard Squid, I fully suspected you would be the one busting your grape."

The mud softened underfoot. Up on the road the black ice layed like a verneer.

"not yet Squid, too early, I misjudged."

Deodora and overgrown Burning Bush hid us as we went back to where our clothes were stashed.

 

[Guest]

 

[ruminator]

He heard the silence take over when he entered the room... awkwardly stopping...feeling all eyes assessing the presence....not the awe inspired moment of silence reserved for prestige, no.....the curious inspection of a decently dressed well known vagabond opening the door at the country club luncheon. ...evoking the noiseless inquiry of what in the hell is he doing here.....silverware first....tankling against china....imported by outsources or outsourced to importers.....never can remember...doesn't really matter anymore....it's something he'll never be offered to own.....eyes avert clumsily...his, theirs, all....trying to find a better place to put them,....anywhere but where the soul's truth lies,....then they find him....warm, locked on in compassion rather than contempt....empatheitc sharing of a random moment snatched from the clock ticking......the old, always been there looked at it every time passing but never thought about who it was kept it running, clock on the wall.....the soft eyes offer a seat and some food to the stranger....hunger could be seen in his tired eyes....he declines for anxiety in knowing he had no idea what fork to use

 

[eagleyez]

Wildflower hunting peaks now and again in fall, the great rains have kneehighed the horse yards and open country, 2 rivers wash around the town as we all wait for the Sun to hit the tops of the Maples and open the western side windows, time passing so sweetly. She naps and I sip coffee and the wind blows an american chord in the deep dark woods.

 

[ruminator]

wobbly knock-kneed nimrods stumble incoherently.....squirrels sit and laugh at them...bark stripping claws stick and pull...lethal force among the unprotected..

."them squirrels is viscious 'l'il bastards, I tell ya"....uncle walter had a row of flags on his truck antaena that the radio didn't work......damn predatory gotta be destroyed squirrels....damn nice tail......always did have an eye for nice tail.....bounced so damn hard outta potholes I banged my head on the roof....that truck would flat-out fly tearin'ass down the road to the olde mill....storm chasers in the mirror...runnin fast from the rising clouds of dust...hand beating the cadence.... farm use only painted on the door....

.."NOOoooooo....."....the few bits of gravel DOH left after the thaw went flying past my head on their way down the road......coughing and choking that brown-grey plume of audacity what caught up to us in the sudden stop.......grumbling cussing the slamming door rattled my teeth like the chattering oil starved lifters.....he shook the dust off and grinned the answer in a maniacal sigh of relief....."hot-damn......we didn't hit the l'il bastard"....good going uncle walter......you're a real sport.

 

[eagleyez]

wobbly knock-kneed nimrods stumble incoherently.....squirrels sit and laugh at them...bark stripping claws stick and pull...lethal force among the unprotected..

."them squirrels is viscious 'l'il bastards, I tell ya"....uncle walter had a row of flags on his truck antaena that the radio didn't work......damn predatory gotta be destroyed squirrels....damn nice tail......always did have an eye for nice tail.....bounced so damn hard outta potholes I banged my head on the roof....that truck would flat-out fly tearin'ass down the road to the olde mill....storm chasers in the mirror...runnin fast from the rising clouds of dust...hand beating the cadence.... farm use only painted on the door....

.."NOOoooooo....."....the few bits of gravel DOH left after the thaw went flying past my head on their way down the road......coughing and choking that brown-grey plume of audacity what caught up to us in the sudden stop.......grumbling cussing the slamming door rattled my teeth like the chattering oil starved lifters.....he shook the dust off and grinned the answer in a maniacal sigh of relief....."hot-damn......we didn't hit the l'il bastard"....good going uncle walter......you're a real sport.

nice to see you Ruminator Man.

I dreamed I had 6 elbows on one arm. Just sayin.

 

[ruminator]

nice to see you Ruminator Man.

I dreamed I had 6 elbows on one arm. Just sayin.

Thanks, my friend, This thread of your's was like finding the La-z-boy with the sunken cushions and worn arm rests.



life's been good.

 

[BooMerengue]

I'll carry a beer out to Squid- he's the kind I can talk to and don't have to say anything. Only it's not Squid when I get there. It's Johnny Billings down there on the rocks. The ocean side where the Atlantic sculpts the shore her way, and makes pockets to hide in. I found a little octopus there once. Yes, I did. Everyone said it was a squid, but the body wasn't right. I kept it in a coffee can. I don't know why. He was 27 that year. Skin covered with salt, and sun bleached hair. Rough. A townie. Not your kind, girl. He swallowed that first beer whole. And watched me. I watched him do it but he didn't know. Funny thing how your insides light up sometimes. Not always but this time, yes. In a lumpy kinda breathsnatching way. But I kept my face still. That way it was someone else that was watching me. I noticed that there were four big ol' pines growing in such a way that a boss fort could be made to hang out over the sea. I bet my brothers would like to try fishing from there. I think he was trying to see if he could have me. Not that he wanted me. Just to know, you know? When I hurt I kept hearing this song; I still do. Sally go round the roses (sally go round the roses) Sally go round the roses (sally go round the pretty roses) Hope this place can't hurt you (hope this place can't hurt you) Roses they can't hurt you (roses they can't hurt you) Sally don't you go, don't you go downtown Sally don't you go-o, don't you go downtown His lobster boat was named The Rose; did I tell you that? or something like that. Anyway he was asking me about school and where I lived and I said I know you're not coming way down there to visit me and he said you just never know. But I knew. He wouldn't look right and I'd have to pretend I didn't know him. And when I looked at him I knew that he knew that, too. I wanted to know how but I never asked. I should have. I might have learned more than what I did that day. I guess I learned enough, though. Like warm beer will get you silly quick, and supper was in an hour, and I had to dress for dinner at Boones. It was a family thing. I got a picture here of a bunch of headstones and all of them were at that dinner. The people; not the stones. Jerk. This beer I'm drinking now is ice cold; so cold it hurts. In a good way. But dammit it snags things out of my brain that should be left alone. He's almost 70 years old now. He didn't have me. But still... I wished I'd asked him. Stuff. You know...

 

[eagleyez]

hi Boo-

nice to see you!!

Squidlips made it ashore and waits patiently.

 

[Angeline]

<snip>The ocean side where the Atlantic sculpts the shore her way, and makes pockets to hide in. I...<snip>

And you say you're not poetic these days. Hahahaha.

 

[Guest]

Thanks, my friend, This thread of your's was like finding the La-z-boy with the sunken cushions and worn arm rests.



life's been good.

I often come and use this La-z-boy, curl up and read the walls.

 

[BooMerengue]

hi Boo-

nice to see you!!

Squidlips made it ashore and waits patiently.

for??

I really think this is my favorite thread here. When no one is here for a long time I get sad. I know those guys- Squid and Squintley. Don't stop, ee. Just don't.

AngieDom? I have moments, baby... but they're just moments anymore. Thats all.

 

[Angeline]

for??

I really think this is my favorite thread here. When no one is here for a long time I get sad. I know those guys- Squid and Squintley. Don't stop, ee. Just don't.

AngieDom? I have moments, baby... but they're just moments anymore. Thats all.

Me too. I have to stop thinking the world is a 6 year old that needs to learn how short i sounds. It's fucking with my poetry...

 

[BooMerengue]

Me too. I have to stop thinking the world is a 6 year old that needs to learn how short i sounds. It's fucking with my poetry...

Just remember... It's all on your shoulders now whether those kids grow up to love their language, or hate it. hehehe

 

[eagleyez]

The night was maroon,
The day had been blood soaked-
"Squid, even you are not immune," he drawled, with the hum of a town full of sprayers, boiling the grey paint of Northern English shipbuilding towns. Manchester north on the stinking muddy roads.
"This blood I mention, your an orphan, so enough already with the heroism."

"Why are you the only bloke I know, that I take that off of with such little anger."

"Ive fucked up the plan alot mate, but the riverswallows and the migrating junkos co-mingle just fine."

"Point taken, and heaven help us ya bloomin squidlip wanker."

We travelled uphill to the flat and he made me strong English tea, at last.

 

[BooMerengue]

There!

I found it!

Now sit and write!

 

[Angeline]

There!

I found it!

Now sit and write!

This is it! Neither of us could remember the name lol.

Nice tawkin to ya sis.

Boo has a real cute twangy voice

 

[BooMerengue]

This is it! Neither of us could remember the name lol.

Nice tawkin to ya sis.

Boo has a real cute twangy voice

*grooooan.....









and Ange sounds all sultry and sophisticated and shit... ya know??? lol

 

[ruminator]

*grooooan.....









and Ange sounds all sultry and sophisticated and shit... ya know??? lol

This is one of my favorite threads. Can I write too? Sadly, I know nothing of squids.

 

[eagleyez]

Squintlips called me and in his natural Sean Connery voice, said "do you fancy some fishing tonight Mrs Moneypenny?"

"Oh I dont know Squidcheese, I do have a pack of crawlers in the fridge and I think a big fat one escaped and is hiding in the salad. Would you like to come for dinner tonight?"

He went unusually silent for a brief period, and said if we had some French dressing he would consider it. "Should I use a Bobber and a treble hook to subbie for Crutons?"I asked.

"If I swallow the hook, what will you do Squidboy?"

"Needlenose pliars, very gently oughta do the trick."

"Nah, but maybe we can take out the Shocker tomorrow and drift where the big river empties into the Stillwater."

The phone rang and I said "Boo is on the phone. Gotta turn it over to Ange mate." Well, fine then ya wanker, he said. Im going to have some pie and go for a walk. As usual, he said I owed him. I suggested that I row upstream in the heavy current "so gramps didnt get overspray on his Knickers."

He hung up on me just in time. I gave the phone to Ange and said, "y'all take your time. Im going to inventory my tackle box."

( It was a pleasure to hear that twang, Miss Merengue)

 

[BooMerengue]

wowie zowie! I'm feeling almost famous. I sure wish I coulda seen you walkin around in that apron and nothin else, though. Hearin it was one thing; seeing it woulda been another.

It was nice almost bein there for supper. Thank you. I'll almost have y'all over for catfish next week. We'll make the salad fresh, ok?

I have to go write a poem. Its been nagging at me. About bodies. Thumping. A storm of bodies. A New Age Sacrament. But I have to figure out which god. Well, maybe I don't. He wasn't there. He isn't here. It'll make more sense without him. It always does.

Don't lose this thread anymore. You have a select audience. Do you want to be booed?

Booed?? That sounds dirty. Fun dirty. Hey- its not a pass- its a Nuther poem!!

G'night and sweet sleeps, you two.