Marmalade is just jelly with chunks. Not even good chunks at that, sort of bitter and strange like they don’t belong. It’s a Grandma Conspiracy. It’s a global blue haired cover-up to make everybody nostalgic for The Great Depression. A time, that pretty much everyone agrees sucked and anything they ate or drank during that time sucked. Yet, somehow the octogenarians can wax nostalgic about condensed milk and canned beans, dust bowls and unemployment.
Marmalade just plain sucks.
Sapphire spread the lie with a white plastic knife across her toast.
“How much longer till we get there?”
“About three and a half hours.”
The sleepy bags of skin pulled on Johnny’s bloodshot eyes and dragged them down as if they were sad. He sort of grinned as he yawned and flashed the tooth. All that deformed vulgarity showcased between tired lips grabbed hold of Sapphire. She wondered if Massachusetts had a law against road side sex. Maybe it was against full penetration, but maybe she could get away with a lean over blow job? Maybe she could…
“I gotta take a shit. I’ll be right back.” Johnny said, snapping her back from her fantasy. Nothing like a guy opening his mouth and fucking up all the good stuff you were thinking about them. If they only knew how easy it could be if they just tried a little.
Sapphire watched Johnny as he slid out of the booth. She poked her lie covered toast with a fork in contempt.
She was tired.
Everything put her flight response on full alert, but she had more than enough left in her tank to make it. She couldn’t wait to get to Torbins Shore. Torbin’s Shore was where she knew she had to be .When she got there she could paddle out and hug all the puffins on Easter Egg Rock, congratulating them on their comeback attempt and stop anyone from hurting them ever again.
She wouldn’t mention that it was futile because Wal-Mart and all those other huge heartless corporations had no use for them and if Wal-Mart had no use for you, you had no chance of being protected by the Senate. Wal-Mart and Big Oil had just about every Senator and Congressman tied up with a giant string of dollar bills. When ever all those big companies pulled on that string of dollar bills, all those fine politicians redefined their campaign lies and screwed everyone that didn’t have a hand in their pocket. What ever it was that Big Business wanted, it would make enough campaign donations to make sure our elected officials could convince the general public that it was exactly what they needed all along.
That didn’t matter.
America deserved the scum it elected. Sapphire no longer believes that her vote mattered. The Government was just a machine that chugged along, driven by corporate greed. The single crusaders of hope, voted in by small communities scattered about the country, all flashed brightly then vanished like moths hitting the zapper. Change was just the other side of the same as far as politicians were concerned.
Puffins didn’t know about politics. That was most definitely for the best. But politics had its sights on the puffin and Sapphire knew she had to help them. She didn’t know what she would do, but she knew she had to do something.
Maybe, she would just hug them all.
Then she thought, “Do puffins like to be hugged?
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Thursday, April 8, 2010
The Wonder
Molly woke me up with kisses
And made the morning so delicious
She makes living in this city
like a pocket full of dreams
And she shows me all that life brings
Every Sunday we walk to breakfast
They all know us down at the Brickway
She gets a menu but orders the same thing
every single time
I’m so happy that she’s mine
Oh the wonder
She’s like lightning to my thunder
Make love to me in the morning
And again in the afternoon
Maybe twice if you’d like to
Maybe three times if I can
She cracks a smile and completes me
Sky blue eyes that enchant me
She’s so witty and flower pretty, the wonder never ends
She’s my lover and my best friend
Oh the wonder
She’s like lightning to my thunder
Make love to me in the morning
And again in the afternoon
Maybe twice if you’d like to
Maybe three times if I can
Sunlight painted red by curtains
Every moment I’m more certain
She is the meaning and the reason I have searched for all my life
I’m so happy that she’s my wife
Oh the wonder
She’s like lightning to my thunder
Make love to me in the morning
And again in the afternoon
Maybe twice if you’d like to
Maybe three times if I can
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
7
Mike Honey never regretted the change.
It made him free.
Personal liberation gets devalued in this age of reality TV and American irresponsibility.
The mouth breathers soak up the spin fed diatribe that shits out of the Idiot Box every night, lapping it up like suckling pigs.
They all validate themselves around the water cooler the next day and everyone regurgitates what they were spoon fed last night from the broadcast. Then, they take a sip of coffee, stand around in an awkward pause, realizing that all the people they hang around with for more than half the time they are awake are not people they particularly like. Suddenly, they have something to do and they slide a few short sentences that are too short and too vague to ever expose what they really think out and then slink back in their cubicles.
Fuck them.
Mike got his. Four and a half inches of flesh that validated what he was born to be.
He was a man.
He was real.
Modern Science fixed Natures hiccup. The mind and the body finally matched in philosophy. Jeans looked good low slung off his hips and his soul patch rocked.
Not to mention he owned the best Bed and Breakfast in Maine. Torbins Shore had eight rooms and four bathrooms. It overlooked a rocky beach that was saddled between two large outcroppings and it had the best chef this side of everywhere. Its rooms were filled from April till November.
Usually Mike spent the winter cleaning and repainting the empty rooms. Not this winter, the rooms were filled with rich Liberals. Not the Liberals he identified with, but the Money Liberals that were really Conservatives with a conscious. They were taking a break from their $900-a-plate dinners for the homeless and drove their SUV’s up to Easter Egg Rock to save the puffin.
Mike didn’t mind the business, but these jerk offs irritated him. Snooty mother fuckers always kick started his bad side. Silver haired fifty somethings honeymooning on their Do-Over Weddings always made better clientele. He didn’t even mind the young Affected Artist couples, even though they tipped lousy.
These people just sucked.
His life partner agreed late night in whispers, but during the day she never let her smile fade. No want went overlooked and no need wasn’t anticipated. She always knew how to make everybody comfortable.
Mike had never seen her falter.
He was surprised to see her body almost slump after the phone call from her nephew.
Mike guessed that he was coming to visit.
It made him free.
Personal liberation gets devalued in this age of reality TV and American irresponsibility.
The mouth breathers soak up the spin fed diatribe that shits out of the Idiot Box every night, lapping it up like suckling pigs.
They all validate themselves around the water cooler the next day and everyone regurgitates what they were spoon fed last night from the broadcast. Then, they take a sip of coffee, stand around in an awkward pause, realizing that all the people they hang around with for more than half the time they are awake are not people they particularly like. Suddenly, they have something to do and they slide a few short sentences that are too short and too vague to ever expose what they really think out and then slink back in their cubicles.
Fuck them.
Mike got his. Four and a half inches of flesh that validated what he was born to be.
He was a man.
He was real.
Modern Science fixed Natures hiccup. The mind and the body finally matched in philosophy. Jeans looked good low slung off his hips and his soul patch rocked.
Not to mention he owned the best Bed and Breakfast in Maine. Torbins Shore had eight rooms and four bathrooms. It overlooked a rocky beach that was saddled between two large outcroppings and it had the best chef this side of everywhere. Its rooms were filled from April till November.
Usually Mike spent the winter cleaning and repainting the empty rooms. Not this winter, the rooms were filled with rich Liberals. Not the Liberals he identified with, but the Money Liberals that were really Conservatives with a conscious. They were taking a break from their $900-a-plate dinners for the homeless and drove their SUV’s up to Easter Egg Rock to save the puffin.
Mike didn’t mind the business, but these jerk offs irritated him. Snooty mother fuckers always kick started his bad side. Silver haired fifty somethings honeymooning on their Do-Over Weddings always made better clientele. He didn’t even mind the young Affected Artist couples, even though they tipped lousy.
These people just sucked.
His life partner agreed late night in whispers, but during the day she never let her smile fade. No want went overlooked and no need wasn’t anticipated. She always knew how to make everybody comfortable.
Mike had never seen her falter.
He was surprised to see her body almost slump after the phone call from her nephew.
Mike guessed that he was coming to visit.
6
Butt Doilies rock!
They create the security blanket between you and what ever disease or disgusting funkiness that resides on that plastic public horseshoe of a toilet seat. No need to balance your hovering ass on high heeled feet and right angled legs, just sit down on the paper and let the warm nuisance sprinkle out.
Jasmine pulled out a doily and placed it down around the seat, framing her target with a safety seal. She pushed her pants down to her knees, making sure her thumbs caught her panties, dragging them down too.
Gravity did the rest.
Her ass pressed against the paper and split open her undercarriage over the watery basin.
Sapphire looked around. She felt awkward being alone with herself. She started reading the scratched poetry on the walls of the stall.
“Here I sit, broken hearted. Tried to shit, but only farted.”
“I lived and learned, then got stoned and forgot.”
“MANNY SUCKS COCK!!!!!!!”
Not quite Pulitzer prize material, but it distracted her eyes and occupied her mind. Her focus deflected, she felt safe and relaxed, listening to the echoing splash of her piss stream.
She emptied out, kind of surprised she had that much in her.
She balled up some tissue and wiped from front to back, just like her mother taught her when she was 3. Pulling up her pants, she thought about the trifecta of fast food outlets that filled the lobby.
“I hope he’s hungry.” She said out loud.
She waved her hands under the faucet and forced its automatic flow. No soap, just a casual rinse off and a damp fingered splash to her bangs. She almost body kissed a middle aged soccer mom as she turned to leave. For a brief second Sapphire glanced into her eyes and slid down their mind funnel. She saw three kids, a Doberman and a lean chiseled Pilates instructor that filled the gaps her inattentive husband left on his career path. Sapphire shuddered with cold contempt.
“Fuck that,” she thought, “Why pretend to settle on one dick?”
She was going to taste a bunch of them, in all their throbbing saltiness, but when she found the right one, there would be no pretending. She wasn’t going to fuck it up. It wasn’t like she needed a man. She just knew that somewhere out there, a man existed that was more than a life support system for a cock. There had to be at least one man that would unlock the jaded cell of her heart. Her mother had to be wrong. She had to be. Sapphire had tried to be a lesbian. She really did. Women were so beautiful and soft. She even adored the firm shapeliness of breasts, but it just wasn’t there. She wanted a man, with all his imperfections. Strong shouldered, he would wrap her firmly as they made love and make her feel embraced. He would cuddle and laugh at her jokes but leave abruptly to conquer the world, not forgetting to kiss her passionately before he did.
Yeah right.
A girl can dream can’t she?
Right now all she had was Five Hairs. He had potential. After all, he had convinced her to double back towards home and he had such passion for the puffin. A man with passion is a good thing.
Maybe he had passion for other things, like tongue circling her clitoris till she came.
Maybe for cuddling and pillow talk.
Maybe for buying two cheeseburgers so he could share.
Maybe it was just a passion for the puffin and that would have to suffice
They create the security blanket between you and what ever disease or disgusting funkiness that resides on that plastic public horseshoe of a toilet seat. No need to balance your hovering ass on high heeled feet and right angled legs, just sit down on the paper and let the warm nuisance sprinkle out.
Jasmine pulled out a doily and placed it down around the seat, framing her target with a safety seal. She pushed her pants down to her knees, making sure her thumbs caught her panties, dragging them down too.
Gravity did the rest.
Her ass pressed against the paper and split open her undercarriage over the watery basin.
Sapphire looked around. She felt awkward being alone with herself. She started reading the scratched poetry on the walls of the stall.
“Here I sit, broken hearted. Tried to shit, but only farted.”
“I lived and learned, then got stoned and forgot.”
“MANNY SUCKS COCK!!!!!!!”
Not quite Pulitzer prize material, but it distracted her eyes and occupied her mind. Her focus deflected, she felt safe and relaxed, listening to the echoing splash of her piss stream.
She emptied out, kind of surprised she had that much in her.
She balled up some tissue and wiped from front to back, just like her mother taught her when she was 3. Pulling up her pants, she thought about the trifecta of fast food outlets that filled the lobby.
“I hope he’s hungry.” She said out loud.
She waved her hands under the faucet and forced its automatic flow. No soap, just a casual rinse off and a damp fingered splash to her bangs. She almost body kissed a middle aged soccer mom as she turned to leave. For a brief second Sapphire glanced into her eyes and slid down their mind funnel. She saw three kids, a Doberman and a lean chiseled Pilates instructor that filled the gaps her inattentive husband left on his career path. Sapphire shuddered with cold contempt.
“Fuck that,” she thought, “Why pretend to settle on one dick?”
She was going to taste a bunch of them, in all their throbbing saltiness, but when she found the right one, there would be no pretending. She wasn’t going to fuck it up. It wasn’t like she needed a man. She just knew that somewhere out there, a man existed that was more than a life support system for a cock. There had to be at least one man that would unlock the jaded cell of her heart. Her mother had to be wrong. She had to be. Sapphire had tried to be a lesbian. She really did. Women were so beautiful and soft. She even adored the firm shapeliness of breasts, but it just wasn’t there. She wanted a man, with all his imperfections. Strong shouldered, he would wrap her firmly as they made love and make her feel embraced. He would cuddle and laugh at her jokes but leave abruptly to conquer the world, not forgetting to kiss her passionately before he did.
Yeah right.
A girl can dream can’t she?
Right now all she had was Five Hairs. He had potential. After all, he had convinced her to double back towards home and he had such passion for the puffin. A man with passion is a good thing.
Maybe he had passion for other things, like tongue circling her clitoris till she came.
Maybe for cuddling and pillow talk.
Maybe for buying two cheeseburgers so he could share.
Maybe it was just a passion for the puffin and that would have to suffice
Saturday, April 3, 2010
You Are My Song
You Are My Song
The night is over
And the band has left the stage
The bartender cracks a smile
At the money she has made
They’re loading up the truck
And turning on the lights
But something here is missing
Something is just not right
Because my head is humming now
And I’m too drunk to see
But I feel it
Taste it
Deep down in me
It’s a symphony
Playing in my soul
And I’ve got to find a way
To let it show
But I think it’s fading fast and now
Oh no it’s gone
Doesn’t matter anyway
Because there is no one left in here
To hear me play
Then you walk up to me
And lead me to my car
I open up my eyes and stumbling I see
It’s right there where you are
It’s coming back to me
My private masterpiece
It’s all around me
It’s you…
You are my song
You are my song
I love you
You are my song
The night is over
And the band has left the stage
The bartender cracks a smile
At the money she has made
They’re loading up the truck
And turning on the lights
But something here is missing
Something is just not right
Because my head is humming now
And I’m too drunk to see
But I feel it
Taste it
Deep down in me
It’s a symphony
Playing in my soul
And I’ve got to find a way
To let it show
But I think it’s fading fast and now
Oh no it’s gone
Doesn’t matter anyway
Because there is no one left in here
To hear me play
Then you walk up to me
And lead me to my car
I open up my eyes and stumbling I see
It’s right there where you are
It’s coming back to me
My private masterpiece
It’s all around me
It’s you…
You are my song
You are my song
I love you
You are my song
Saturday, March 27, 2010
Daddy can we play now?
Daddy can we play now?
Daddy's Home!
Daddy's Home!
Daddy's Home!
Liam came running down the hall and jumped into Daddy's arms
He wrapped his arms around Daddy's neck
Hugging him as hard as his little arms could
"Daddy can we play now?"
"Not just yet," Daddy said "I have to take off my jacket and put away my things."
Liam frowned as Daddy set him back down
Liam watched Daddy as he took off his jacket and put away his things
Then Daddy walked into the Living room and started talking to Mommy
"Blah, Blah Blah and Grownup Talk" Daddy said to Mommy
Liam pulled on Daddy's leg
"Daddy can we play now?"
"Not just yet," Daddy said "I've got to make us something to eat for dinner."
Liam frowned as Daddy walked into the Kitchen and pulled out some pots and pans.
Liam sat down next to his toy box, but he didn't want to play with any of his toys.
He smelled something good and heard a lot of noise from the Kitchen, so he ran in to see what was happening.
Daddy was busy with all the pots and pans.
Daddy looked down and saw Liam
"Hey! Be careful everything is hot in here."
"Daddy can we play now?"
"Not just yet," Daddy said "We are just about to eat dinner."
Liam watched Daddy and Mommy put plates on the table and frowned when they all sat down to eat.
He fussed a bit, but then he ate his dinner after Mommy told him it was yummy.
Everyone got up but him
Daddy grabbed all the plates and put them in the sink. Then he walked down to the Living room.
Liam asked to be excused and hopped off his chair, following Daddy down the hall.
Liam grabbed onto Daddy's leg.
"Daddy can we play now?"
Daddy looked down at his little boy and knew that he wouldn't be little for very long.
Daddy scooped Liam up and they rolled around for a bit until they decided to be pirates looking out for pumas and searching for buried treasure.
Liam smiled as Daddy let out a great big pirate "AARRRGGGHH!"
Liam loved Daddy and Daddy loved Liam.
Daddy's Home!
Daddy's Home!
Daddy's Home!
Liam came running down the hall and jumped into Daddy's arms
He wrapped his arms around Daddy's neck
Hugging him as hard as his little arms could
"Daddy can we play now?"
"Not just yet," Daddy said "I have to take off my jacket and put away my things."
Liam frowned as Daddy set him back down
Liam watched Daddy as he took off his jacket and put away his things
Then Daddy walked into the Living room and started talking to Mommy
"Blah, Blah Blah and Grownup Talk" Daddy said to Mommy
Liam pulled on Daddy's leg
"Daddy can we play now?"
"Not just yet," Daddy said "I've got to make us something to eat for dinner."
Liam frowned as Daddy walked into the Kitchen and pulled out some pots and pans.
Liam sat down next to his toy box, but he didn't want to play with any of his toys.
He smelled something good and heard a lot of noise from the Kitchen, so he ran in to see what was happening.
Daddy was busy with all the pots and pans.
Daddy looked down and saw Liam
"Hey! Be careful everything is hot in here."
"Daddy can we play now?"
"Not just yet," Daddy said "We are just about to eat dinner."
Liam watched Daddy and Mommy put plates on the table and frowned when they all sat down to eat.
He fussed a bit, but then he ate his dinner after Mommy told him it was yummy.
Everyone got up but him
Daddy grabbed all the plates and put them in the sink. Then he walked down to the Living room.
Liam asked to be excused and hopped off his chair, following Daddy down the hall.
Liam grabbed onto Daddy's leg.
"Daddy can we play now?"
Daddy looked down at his little boy and knew that he wouldn't be little for very long.
Daddy scooped Liam up and they rolled around for a bit until they decided to be pirates looking out for pumas and searching for buried treasure.
Liam smiled as Daddy let out a great big pirate "AARRRGGGHH!"
Liam loved Daddy and Daddy loved Liam.
Saturday, March 13, 2010
The Last Slap
I stepped out of the bus, leaving it empty except for the driver and shuffled up the gravel driveway to my house. There was a metallic gag that burped out behind me as the bus driver shifted into first and rumbled his carriage off to the end of his shift. I stopped halfway up the driveway and listened to the loud silence that always echoed through the woods surrounding my house. Trees cracked against the breeze and birds chirped out a cacophonic symphony. There were bull frogs croaking in the pond and and a dog barking off in the distance. I could hear the shuffle of leaves as all the tiny critters scurried in the underbrush and a dull hum from all the bugs filled up any empty spaces.
Interrupting everything, I could hear a tractor trailer thundering down the road.
I felt the illogical insanity of youth fill up my twelve year frame. I quickly scanned my surroundings and zoomed in on an egg sized rock two feet to my left. I took a step and scooped it up with my right hand. My thumb instinctively rubbed the dirt away so it could angle tightly around the back edge.
I waited until the nose of the semi passed my mailbox and then rotated my arm forward. The egg sized rock bee lined from my hand and smashed against the trailer..
I felt cool for less than a second and then the screeching tires panicked me into a run. All rational thought left me and intelligence just stood off to the side laughing. I thought I could get away by scurrying under my front deck, past a missing piece of lattice.
I low crawled between the damp earth and pressurized wood and tried to make myself small against the foundation of my house. The cold cement didn’t yield to my scared hot skin trying to melt safely into the basement and I was frozen in my fear.
I heard the driver wheezing and cussing her way up the gravel to my house.
Then hell broke loose.
I heard the side door open and the heavy footsteps of my dad pounded down on the boards above me. I gagged down the terror erupting inside my gut and tried to make myself smaller.
I looked out through the diamond holes of the lattice and saw the truck driver with her hands on her knees and gasping for breath.
She looked up and said to my dad “Your fucking piece of shit kid just threw a rock at my truck and I’m going to kill him!”
Well, my dad might not have been the best of fathers, and he may have agreed that I was a piece of shit, but damn if someone was going to talk shit about his kids. He started spewing out hatred and insults that whittled that big boned driver into a sniveling toothpick.
He took a few angry steps in her direction. She found herself in my world and I saw the fear knock her over.
Stumbling to her feet, she retreated down the gravel, got back in her truck and sped off.
I was safe.
My sense of relief was short lived.
Moments after the diesel growl of the truck faded into the distance, a shadow filled the space in the lattice and the large hands of my father cuffed each of my ankles. I was jerked out, face down, and then flipped over so I could see the anger.
I was afraid.
But….
This time I stared straight back into those angry eyes. I don't know why I chose then and there to make my stand. It just happened.
My defiance did not go unnoticed.
I closed my eyes and watched the bright lights. They flickered every time fist found flesh and the light show somehow made me numb to the pain.
It wasn’t easy to know when it was over, but there was this moment when I noticed the silence. I stood up and ran up the steps, past the door and straight up to my room.
I couldn’t lock the doors to my room because none of the doors in our house had locks on them, so I tried to disappear in the space between the left side of my dresser and the wall.
I wasn’t afraid, but I shivered as the stairs warned me that he was coming.
His presence pushed me deeper into the corner of my room.
I waited for the bust in.
I waited.
I could hear him breathing.
Then I heard the stairs creak with his retreat.
I didn’t believe it and stayed right where I was for at least twenty minutes. I couldn’t believe that was all I was going to get.
But it was.
It would be another six months until the last time my father beat me. He slapped me upside the head a couple of times when I got suspended for fighting and he managed to pop my ear drum. Something inside of him clicked at that moment and he cried, promising to never hit me again.
He never has
Interrupting everything, I could hear a tractor trailer thundering down the road.
I felt the illogical insanity of youth fill up my twelve year frame. I quickly scanned my surroundings and zoomed in on an egg sized rock two feet to my left. I took a step and scooped it up with my right hand. My thumb instinctively rubbed the dirt away so it could angle tightly around the back edge.
I waited until the nose of the semi passed my mailbox and then rotated my arm forward. The egg sized rock bee lined from my hand and smashed against the trailer..
I felt cool for less than a second and then the screeching tires panicked me into a run. All rational thought left me and intelligence just stood off to the side laughing. I thought I could get away by scurrying under my front deck, past a missing piece of lattice.
I low crawled between the damp earth and pressurized wood and tried to make myself small against the foundation of my house. The cold cement didn’t yield to my scared hot skin trying to melt safely into the basement and I was frozen in my fear.
I heard the driver wheezing and cussing her way up the gravel to my house.
Then hell broke loose.
I heard the side door open and the heavy footsteps of my dad pounded down on the boards above me. I gagged down the terror erupting inside my gut and tried to make myself smaller.
I looked out through the diamond holes of the lattice and saw the truck driver with her hands on her knees and gasping for breath.
She looked up and said to my dad “Your fucking piece of shit kid just threw a rock at my truck and I’m going to kill him!”
Well, my dad might not have been the best of fathers, and he may have agreed that I was a piece of shit, but damn if someone was going to talk shit about his kids. He started spewing out hatred and insults that whittled that big boned driver into a sniveling toothpick.
He took a few angry steps in her direction. She found herself in my world and I saw the fear knock her over.
Stumbling to her feet, she retreated down the gravel, got back in her truck and sped off.
I was safe.
My sense of relief was short lived.
Moments after the diesel growl of the truck faded into the distance, a shadow filled the space in the lattice and the large hands of my father cuffed each of my ankles. I was jerked out, face down, and then flipped over so I could see the anger.
I was afraid.
But….
This time I stared straight back into those angry eyes. I don't know why I chose then and there to make my stand. It just happened.
My defiance did not go unnoticed.
I closed my eyes and watched the bright lights. They flickered every time fist found flesh and the light show somehow made me numb to the pain.
It wasn’t easy to know when it was over, but there was this moment when I noticed the silence. I stood up and ran up the steps, past the door and straight up to my room.
I couldn’t lock the doors to my room because none of the doors in our house had locks on them, so I tried to disappear in the space between the left side of my dresser and the wall.
I wasn’t afraid, but I shivered as the stairs warned me that he was coming.
His presence pushed me deeper into the corner of my room.
I waited for the bust in.
I waited.
I could hear him breathing.
Then I heard the stairs creak with his retreat.
I didn’t believe it and stayed right where I was for at least twenty minutes. I couldn’t believe that was all I was going to get.
But it was.
It would be another six months until the last time my father beat me. He slapped me upside the head a couple of times when I got suspended for fighting and he managed to pop my ear drum. Something inside of him clicked at that moment and he cried, promising to never hit me again.
He never has
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