Empty
If someone were to hand me a blank piece of paper and told me to answer the question that was on the paper, and the question asked me, “How are you feeling right now?”, I would’ve left it blank, not solely because I didn’t know how to properly convey my feelings into words, but because there was no other way to explain my feelings perfectly than that.
Your Lips Said No, but Your Eyes Said Yes
"Honestly, Sheriff, that was the truth."
"Barney, tell me what happened one more time. Go slowly. Do not leave out any facts."
I took another sip of the stale coffee Sheriff Watson still had in the pot since this morning. I already told him twice what happened, but he wanted to hear it again. I inhaled, looked around, and began.
I told Sheila I loved her. I guess she suspected as much, but my formal declaration stole her breath. It must have been the suddenness of my tone that scared her. I let my words sink in as I stroked her hair. This always had a calming effect on her.
I wanted us to be more than friends, more than acquaintances, much more. When I arose each morning, I listened for her early morning regimen, knowing she in turn, listened for my approach. By the time I grabbed the feed for the chickens, she greeted me with a smile that made my heart skip a beat. Sheila liked to watch me work. She knew I was a farmer and that I may never have enough money for all the nice things females want. But Sheila also knew I had an honest heart and my words rang true.
The morning after I told her my true feelings, she met me during my chores and gave me that look. Ever so coy, Sheila played the coquette well. Others could never see what she saw in me. My father told me once that I could do better. But I never gave up hoping for a blessed union.
That morning, with those eyes, Sheila was more than any man could ask for. What she wanted was what I wanted. I pulled her close and kissed her softly. I wanted to be the man in her life. I told her, all I needed was a little more time to prove how worthy I was for her affection. She feigned a small amount of hesitation. I held her close and gave her the kiss that only a real man could give. The kiss that said, I wanted more.
In retrospect, that is where Sheila became scared. She tried to pull away, but I wanted her so. In the ensuing struggle, I became aggressive. Her muted yells fell on deaf ears as I dropped my pants and grabbed her from behind. Right there in the barn, I had Sheila the way I wanted. All of those years of waiting, all of those nights alone would seek their revenge as the sun rose on a new day. I grabbed her hard and made her the woman I wanted.
"But Barney, tell me again. Why did you have to kill her if you loved her?"
I took another sip of that disgusting coffee before I answered. What I said, I would never be proud of, never would forget. I wished I didn't remember any of this.
By the time I finished with Sheila, we had caused such a commotion, all of the other sheep broke loose from their pens and saw what I had done. They knew I had always taken a liking to Sheila, but after what just happened, I had to prove my standing among them.
Killing Sheila was the only way to do that. Sheep are herd animals. They would get over the loss of their leader and would choose another by sundown.
All that remained was the date of the next BBQ.
Funny Clowns
This is my warning.
My cautionary tale.
Never go to the circus.
Never go there.
When we went to the circus,
We didn’t have fun.
All the clowns had sharp knives,
But we had none.
Please forgive me, my brother.
Please wait for me.
Please!
Please don’t leave me behind.
Please wait for me.
PLEASE!
I apologize, boys and girls.
I’m jumping ahead in the story.
Let me start at the beginning,
Before the circus got gory.
It was a dark summer night.
The circus was in town.
My family bought tickets.
My brother hates clowns.
First, we met the Ringmaster.
She hypnotized the crowd.
She wore a grand top hat,
And took a grand bow.
Then it was time for the three-ring circus.
The Lion Tamer whipped lions and tigers
On purpose.
We saw dancing bears,
Elephants and giraffes.
We all loved the Freak Show.
We pointed and laughed.
The Ringmaster revealed
The last act of the night.
There were so many clowns!
It was quite the delight.
But my brother doesn’t like clowns.
He didn’t want us to stay.
We all should have listened
To my brother that day.
The clowns juggled balls,
Told jokes, and did tricks.
The clowns juggled hammers.
They juggled fire, and bricks.
It was frightening.
It was exciting.
We thought it was fun.
Until the clowns juggled knives.
I wish I'd had one.
A sad clown yelled a joke
Out to the crowd.
His face was painted
With a horrifying frown.
WHAT DO YOU SAY TO A CLOWN WITH A KNIFE?
YOU DON'T SAY ANYTHING.
YOU RUN FOR YOUR LIFE.
All the clowns laughed.
The crowd went silent.
The clowns weren’t so funny
When they became violent.
My brother doesn’t like clowns,
And my brother was right.
No one survived the circus that night.
Deadbeat
“Mommy! Mommy!” A small girl of about eight ran into her mother’s bedroom, limbs flailing wildly in the air.
The mother stirred slowly, groaning into her drool-soaked pillow.
“Shadow man?”
“Yes! He said he’s going to do all sorts of bad things to us!”
“Is he in the closet?”
“No! He’s on my bed!”
The mother let out an exasperated sigh. “Fuckin’ asshole.”
“Mommy! Don’t say that!”
“Not now, honey.”
The mother shoved her feet into stained fuzzy slippers, adjusted her bonnet, and sleepily shuffled into her daughter’s room, the child following cautiously behind.
“Hey. DICKWEED.”
A shadowy figure slithered from the foot of the young girl’s bed and formed a pool of black beneath the mother’s feet. It rose from the pool into a vaguely human form, looming over her petite frame. The mother stared into the void she assumed to be a face and raised a single eyebrow with impatience. A gravelly voice erupted from the figure.
“YOU DARE CHALLENGE ME, MORTAL? I AM DARKER THAN THE BLACKEST NIGHT, FILLED WITH SUCH DEPRAVITY THE DARK LORD SHUDDERS AT THE THOUGHT, I FEAST UPON YOUR FEAR A-”
“Shut it. I thought we discussed this already.”
“I MAKE NO DEALS WITH HUMANS. FOR I AM AN ANCIENT AND POWERFUL EVIL OF WHICH YOUR PITIFUL MIND COULD NEVER CONCEIVE-”
“Ugh. Even the spirit men are douchebags.”
“YOU WILL PAY FOR YOUR INSOLENCE-”
“Go ahead and get it out, big guy.”
“I WILL CONSUME YOUR SOULS-”
“Honey, what time is it?”
“RELISH IN YOUR SCREAMS-”
“3:15.”
“PLUCK THE BONES FROM YOUR WILTED FLESH-”
“Of course. Right on schedule. Did you finish your science project?”
“YOU WILL BEG FOR YOUR SAVIOR-”
“Yeah. I don’t think I can take it on the bus, though.”
“CHURN IN THE ETERNAL FIRE-”
“Do you want me to drop you off? Maybe get breakfast? I don’t have to be at the diner until nine.”
“RIPPED LIMB FROM LIMB BY CREATURES INCONCEIVABLE-”
“Ooh, yes! Can we go to McDougal’s?”
“BONES SPLINTERING IN THEIR CLAWS-”
“Whatever you want, baby girl.”
“AND YOU WILL CURSE YOUR FOOLISHNESS, WEEPING OVER THE DAY YOU CHOSE TO CHALLENGE ANSELOW, THE WRETCHED.”
“Are you done?”
“...YES. I SUPPOSE I AM.”
“Alright. Listen here. You gonna pay my mortgage?”
“WHAT IS A MORTGAG-”
“What about my lights?
“I PREFER TO MOVE IN THE SHADO-”
“Buying my food?”
“I FEAST UPON THE SOULS OF-”
“Yeah, okay, well I don’t. So if you’re gonna be in my house every night, messing with my kid and making me get out of bed, then you might as well contribute. You know how to work a washing machine?”
“I DON’T WEAR CLOTHES.”
“That’s a no. You got a job?”
“I WAS TOLD THE RAPTURE WAS COMING-”
“Also a no. Well, you aren’t feeding me, fucking me-
“THERE ARE RITUALS-”
-or paying my bills so you can go lurk in the closet of some rich asshole on the other side of town. Probably have more room anyway.”
“YOU DARE-”
“Shut up. I work two jobs. Sun-up to sundown. I’ve been in here every night for a month to deal with your ass. My kid is failing because of you. Enough is enough. I’m over it. You’re a good for nothing-”
”HOLD ON-”
“Bum ass demon-”
“UNCALLED FOR-”
“If I wanted to deal with a deadbeat, I’d tell my ex to move back in.”
“I DON’T HAVE TO TAKE THIS-”
“Then go haunt somebody else’s damn house! I got enough problems. Can’t afford a priest and I’m not spending my food stamps on fuckin’ sage.”
“YOU WILL DIE ALONE-”
“Yeah, whatever. Don’t let the door hit ya where the Dark Lord split ya. Go on. Get. Before I have to Old Yeller your ass with the family Bible.”
The shadowy, faceless figure stood still for a moment, as if it were peering down at the irritated mother. Suddenly, the mass dropped to the floor, slid across the hardwood, and slipped out through the tight spaces of the daughter’s bedroom window. The air in the room lightened and the little girl rushed to catch her mother in a tight embrace. The mother ran her hand through her daughter’s hair and leaned down to kiss her on the top of the head.
The daughter released her embrace and looked up at her mother inquisitively.
“Mom. What’s a deadbeat?”
“What now?”
“A deadbeat. You called Dad that.”
“Oh. You know what, sweetie? It’s late. We’ll talk about that some other time. Go ahead and get back in bed. We’ve gotta get up extra early if you want to get McDougal’s.”
Not the Worst
Poor Satan-
so misunderstood.
A lost boy, undermined by his brother,
he boasts into his adult life to feel important.
Day by day,
he surrounds himself in darkness.
His Underworld-
his cave, where he finds solace
“aiding in mortality.”
One day a woman, lively and colorful,
surpassed the hexes meant to exile the rest of the world
and explored his realm.
Recognizing the possibility of magic,
the Devil Himself invited her to stay,
but he was still… himself
and could not resist loving her demise.
After all, he had only ever known betrayal-
punishments were his chosen protection.
As time passed with his lover,
he grew to realize the goddess of spring
could never bloom entangled in his darkness.
Satan, consumed with hopelessness,
released his muse, his last chance at mortality,
back into the world.
Is The Devil truly a monster
or essential in one’s soul purpose?
Greatest Fear
a work drone
happily working hourly
something about
beers after work
the game this Sunday
holding his coffee
grinning like
the Cheshire Cat
morbidly smiling
only this is real
the next forty years
seductive with frequent
pay stubs and home loans
I‘m watching myself
as if from above
miming for air
only to be told
this is how I will grow old
Who Is She?
I sit alone
at a bar in a tiny beach town.
no one knows me here,
I find it quite comforting
and I order a whiskey.
I escaped the cold here,
the weather and the feeling.
it’s funny isn’t it?
what a little distance does
in not only miles,
but time.
I felt the sun on my skin today,
it penetrated deeply and
I could just feel it
reawakening my soul.
that almost killed me.
that. almost. killed. me.
but… it didn’t
so now I’m figuring it out while
I sit alone
at a bar in a tiny beach town.
1. Have kids. They don’t give a flying fuck what the clock says. They want Cheerio’s in the Batman Bowl with the green spoon (that probably needs washing first), and they want it immediately. You will be so used to having your sleep snatched from you, that you probably won’t even notice that one measly hour slip away. Oh look, there it goes, along with your sanity. Bye-bye now.
2. If you are a little smarter, you possibly don’t reside with tiny humans, and therefore may get to travel a bit. In this instance, pack a suitcase before bed. When you wake up, adjust your watch (you may need to guess a little at this point), and then unpack your suitcase again. This way, you can trick your body into presuming you are jetlagged. And you know the best cure for jetlag, right? Yes, that’s right, any alcoholic cocktail you can get your hands on. Vodka in your coffee totally counts. And if someone says, ‘Hey you drinking at this hour? You know what time it is?’ You can laugh and say ‘no’ because you genuinely haven’t got a fucking clue. Is Google in charge of the time now? Are you? You’re drunk, you probably shouldn’t be. But seriously, whose job is it to reset the time on your phone? Make sure you pay through the nose to ring Direct Enquires to find out the actual time. Or stay ‘jetlagged’. Your call.
3. Again, if you don’t have tiny sleep thieves littering your home, you may consider this final option. Now this one you need to start the night before and you are going to want that Vodka. Or whatever other alcohol you can get your hands on. But go steady now, you’re going to need to pace yourself. This one may prove tricky if you are over the age of twenty-five. You are gonna just go straight through. Weekend bender. Deal with it Monday. You are going to feel shit no matter what.
If you are over the age of twenty-five, give it your best shot. You will pass out and wake up feeling like the aforementioned shit anyhow. And you definitely won’t care what time of day it is just as long as no one opens the curtains or breathes too loud.
In conclusion: make bad choices and Daylight Savings Time ceases to matter.
