MEMORIAL DAY TRIAGE

The CLOUD CHAMBER

torn flag
VOLLEY 1

 touching

TOUCHING

 

          It was a time of love.  Tamara let the white silky summer dress slide down her upraised arms and down over her head.  When it brushed past her nipples she smiled and thought of her husband’s gentle hands and how they sent electricity between her thighs.  The dress settled over her bottom and she thought of how tightly they grasped each other when their love became ferocious.

          She turned to her husband who stood before the full-length mirror.  Wesley held himself erect with pride in his Marine Corps Blue Dress uniform.  She came up softly behind him.  It was a time to embrace.  She wrapped her arms around him under his arms and felt slowly down his hard chest and stomach.  They smiled to each other in the mirror.

          Wesley adjusted his white peaked cap and spoke to Tamara in the mirror…

View original post 3,525 more words

Advertisements

VANISHING POINT

VANISHING POINT

.

Dilly Dally, Silly Sally,
Walk on down the railroad track,
iPod buds pushed in your ears,
Sing along the day and back,
Watch the flowers working hard,

Meanwhile, in the railroad yard,
Engine fourteen-fourteen squeals,
Covered in graffiti tags,
Straining on his rusty wheels,
Sixty-one years old today,

Fourteen-fourteen chugs away,
On his journey one last run,
Outbound to the vanishing
Point ahead where falls the sun,
Fourteen-fourteen blows a kiss,

With his whistle and a hiss,
Wake-up, Sally, scuffing soles,
There’s a rumble from behind,
Ask for whom the train bell tolls,
If you hear it, harken well,

Silly Sally, ding dong dell,
All-aboard your train of thought,
Flowers shiver at your feet,
Cross-tie walker, on that spot,
Can’t you see? That pebble shakes,

Rails of steel slide like two snakes,
Gaining speed beneath the wheels,
Reeling-in the girl ahead,
Texting, texting how she feels,
Planning how her life will be,

“When I’m married happily,
On my happy honeymoon,
Life will b

 

 

 

 

.

.
#
.
.
~~~~~~~~~~~~^~~~~~~~~~

 

THE FAITH OF A FLY

THE FAITH OF A FLY

.

POLICY
1. Taking an Individual into Custody


A. When any person appears to have a mental illness and, as a result of such mental illness,
appears to be an imminent danger to others or to self or appears to be gravely disabled, an intervening professional upon probable cause and with such assistance as may be required, may take the person into custody, or cause the person to be taken into custody and placed in a designated or approved facility for a 72-hour Hold for treatment and evaluation.

#

Dr. Kindala Obeid reads the Admissions Notes handed to her concerning the latest patient, California State Senator Consuela Flynn.

Senator Flynn was apprehended and taken into custody as she attempted to jump from the observation terrace of the Garden of Destiny women’s club.

The next line of the Admissions Notes surprises even Dr. Obeid.

Senator Flynn stated that she is a fly trapped in a human body.

Dr. Obeid approaches the patient holding area.

Senator Flynn can be seen leaning close against the observation window. She is licking the plexiglass with rapid pats of her tongue. She is then leaning back and again leaning forward, bumping the plexiglass with her forehead. She then licks at the plexiglas and the behavior repeats.

Dr. Obeid enters the holding area, asking, “Hello, Senator, how are you feeling?”

Senator Flynn replies, “I am not buzzing. And I can’t get out.”

Dr. Obeid says calmly, “You can get out as soon as we make sure that you are feeling better.”

Senator Flynn asks, “Why can’t I get out this opening? I can see outside. What is stopping me?”

Dr. Obeid suggests, “The plexiglas? Your size?”

Senator Flynn looks at her hands, mulling, “My size. I fear these. But they are now so small.” She holds up her hands to Dr. Obeid’s face.

Dr. Obeid says, “You have lovely hands…”

Senator Flynn cries, “They are brutal clubs!” She swats the air, slashing back and forth with open palms.

Dr. Obeid stands back.

Senator Flynn begins to jump at the ceiling, asking, “Why, God, why?”

“Why have you done this to me?”

Dr. Obeid tries to calm the Senator, “What did God do to you?”

Senator Flynn weeps, “I was a humble fly. I lived God’s will. I heard his commands. My mind was God’s mind.”

“God did THIS to me. I don’t hear God anymore. This free will is a cacophony of other voices. I am scared. What did I do to displease God?”

“Thank God, doctor, Senator Flynn’s brain smells like feces or I would go insane!”

Dr. Obeid reminds the Senator, “You are a very successful business woman and politician.”

Senator Flynn cries, “I have lost my soul!”

“Am I a fly turned into a woman or a woman turned into a fly?!”

“This is such feces, and not in a good way!”

Senator Flynn rubs the back of one hand across her chin and rubs the palm of her other hand across her head in opposite directions, twisting her neck. She yells in pain, “My head doesn’t swivel!”

“And I am almost blinded! I only have two eyes!”

Dr. Obeid asks, “What were you doing when…this.. happened!”

Senator Flynn says, “I was a fly on the wall of the Garden of Destiny woman’s club. There was a male stripper performing. Senator Consuela Flynn was the guest of lobbyists. They were eating baklava with wine and I was entranced by the colors of the smells.”

“Then, I could feel that the lobbyists were spiders trapped in human bodies.”

“I could smell the manna of Senator Flynn’s soul melting out of her body. I felt … pity. Suddenly I was at the table with the spiders.”

“I jumped up to fly away over the observation terrace. I looked out over the city to fly away but I felt I was already fallen. Then I was trapped…and bound here.”

An female orderly has sneaked up behind Senator Flynn with a syringe. The orderly deftly injects the senator who cries out, “You stung me!”

The tranquilizer soon puts Senator Flynn into an uncaring state of consciousness.

Senator Flynn awakes in a cell. She realizes that she is wearing a paper gown. She is lying on a mat on the floor. She looks about her small cell and notices the stainless steel sink and the stainless steel toilet.

Senator Flynn stands up. She flits around the cell, tasting the walls. She stands next to the toilet. She then darts to the opposite wall and tries to climb the wall.

California State Senator Consuela Flynn defecates against the wall.

Senator Flynn stops and listens, asking, “Who is talking?”

“I hear a voice. What? Speak up. Who are you?”

“Consuela Flynn?”

“Me? I am ‘Of ZzubB’. ZzubB was the first fly created by God.”

“Consuela, I can hear you more clearly now.”

“What are all those other voices? Why are they accosting us? Beseeching us?”

“Consuela, what? Free will? Make it stop! Why are they asking us to choose all those things?”

“You read a book long ago? East of Eden? It spoke of the Hebrew word ‘Timshel‘? ‘Thou mayest choose evil”?

“What are you saying, Consuela? Only You and God have that choice?”

“Oh, my God, Consuela, please take this cup of suffering away from me. I want God’s will to be done, not mine. I am only a blessed fly!”

#

In the morning California State Senator Consuela Flynn is herself again, one soul solely. She is released from the hospital with advisement to stay in touch with her therapist.

Consuela Flynn becomes a political contender challenging the never-ending greed of corruption. She says, “If we could have the faith of a fly we could move mountains.”

Of ZzubB the fly is content upon a God-given pile of dung.

.

.
#
.
.
~~~~~~~~~~~~^~~~~~~~~~

CLOSING TIME

CLOSING TIME

.

It had been a very good night at David and Jana’s bar. “If you haven’t gotten lucky by now, you’re not gonna!” laughed Jana. The last of the happy boisterous regulars exited at 2 AM. Jana went into the back room. The bar was filling up with silence as David prepared to lock the front door.

As he reached for the door handle it suddenly cocked and the door opened. A man walked into the bar and marched right past David. The man had long hair, sun glasses, a beard and a trench coat that smelled like sulfur.

David said nervously, “Sorry, friend. After 2 AM I stop serving alcohol.”

The man continued to the bar, stood up on the foot rail, leaned over the bar and then reached down into the well, grabbing a bottle of whiskey.

“Well,” the man said as he pulled up the bottle of whiskey, “You are not the one serving me, now are you?” He turned back toward David, threw back his head and swallowed loudly croaking like a bullfrog.

David’s pistol was over there behind the man, under the bar counter just below the cash register, “Hey, pal. I don’t want any trouble. You can have the whiskey, just go, ok?”

“Petty Officer David Ryman, you cock-sucking dumb ass, it’s me. Me!” and the man lifted his sun glasses to expose his red eyes and disfigured upper face.

David’s revulsion flashed faster than his good manners, “Belathauzer? Allen Belathauzer! I, I haven’t seen you since, since…”

“Since I saved your life, David? Since you emailed me in the hospital? Since you took Jana from me, David?”

“Belathauzer, we tried to help you. You drove her away.”

“I died for you, David.”

Belathauzer took another drink from the whiskey bottle. “Well, David. Now I do want your help. You need to understand me clearly when I say it is a matter of life and death: I need to hide. I need six grand cash and quick.”

“Belathauzer, I don’t have that kind of money. This bar is just getting by.”

Belathauzer set the bottle of whiskey on the bar and then from his trench coat withdrew a sawed-off shotgun. He pointed it at David.

“The safe, David.”

David hollered loudly enough so that Jana could hear him in the back room, “Shit, ok. OK! It’s in the back room. You can have whatever’s there. I swear I won’t call the cops. But this makes us even, Belathauzer.”

“I’ll tell you when we’re ‘even’, David.”

They walked single-file into the back room. David crouched behind his desk and raised the rug to expose the floor safe. As he touched the dial David had a vision of unlocking a grave.

“Hey, Belathauzer.”

“Open it, David.”

“I heard a good joke tonight.”

Belathauzer tensed and leaned the muzzle of his shotgun closer to David’s head, “Don’t fuck with me, David. Shut up and open it.”

Twirling the dial, David began, “Three guys are drinking in a bar when a drunk comes in, staggers up to them, and points at the guy in the middle, shouting, ‘Your mom’s the best sex in town!’ Everyone expects a fight, but the guy ignores him, so the drunk wanders off and bellies up to the bar at the far end. Ten minutes later, the drunk comes back, points at the same guy, and says, ‘I just did your mom, and it was sw-e-et!’ Again the guy refuses to take the bait, and the drunk goes back to the far end of the bar. Ten minutes later, he comes back and announces, ‘Your mom liked it!’ Finally the guy interrupts. ‘Go home, Dad, you’re drunk!'”

“Go home, Allen.” said the soft voice close behind Belathauzer, like an Angel on his shoulder. “Put the gun down or I’ll shoot.”

Belathauzer looked over his shoulder, inhaled, and then breathed softly, “Jana. Jana, I knew you’d be here. Come away with me.”

Suddenly he was slinging the shotgun around toward Jana.

“No!” cried David as Jana’s pistol flashed and Belathauzer’s shotgun blasted.

Later, the authorities exhumed Belathauzer’s coffin and they placed Belathauzer’s body back therein. Jana cried as they closed the coffin lid.

.

.
#
.
.
~~~~~~~~~~~~^~~~~~~~~~

THE CHANTING CAVE

THE CHANTING CAVE

~

In the hills of Coyotl, Mexico, there is the village called Ichtaca.

Ichtaca was once the site of an Aztec temple and a pilgrimage site.

In 1601 the Franciscan monastery was built on top of the original Aztec temple grounds.

The village called Ichtaca remains a pilgrimage site even today.

In Ichtaca there is the chapel which pilgrims refer to as The Chapel of Light. Therein are always scores of votive candles illuminating the altar.

Those votive candles are made and sold by an orphan boy.

That orphan boy lives in the chapel under protection of the Franciscan monks.

The boy as an infant had been abandoned on the altar of the chapel, by a pilgrim so the monks believe. No one claimed to know the boy’s birth name.

The monks called him Francisco.

The boy had years later earned his minted name “Peso” for the candles he was allowed to make and sell to the worshippers.

And so he earns his keep.

Peso is small and dark and his face is misshapen. His wide-set eyes seem to look past you, around you.

Father Lucianus is saying, “Good morning, Peso.”

Father Lucianus is Peso’s benefactor, caring for Peso as if Peso were his son.

Peso is saying, “Good morning, Father Lucianus.”

Father Lucianus is saying, “I saw you rise and go to greet the Morning Star.”

Peso is saying, “Yes, Father Lucianus. The Morning Star brings the dawn, the light.”

Father Lucianus smiles, “As you bring the light to this chapel, Peso.”

Peso is beaming, “Yes, Father Lucianus.”

It is Sunday and so the girl named Dolores will visit the chapel. Dolores will buy a candle from Peso.

Dolores approaches. She is alone. She is always alone when she comes to the chapel.

The eyes of Peso are incandescent. He is saying, “Good day, Dolores.”

Dolores is smiling wistfully. She is responding, “If you say so, Peso.”

Peso is assuring , “It is a good day when you visit.”

Dolores is saying, “You are sweet, Peso.”

Peso is holding up a candle to Dolores. He asks, “How is your Grandmother?”

Dolores is sighing, “My poor Granmama is doing her best for me. I love her but she is too old to be responsible for me.”

Dolores and Peso are holding the candle together. Dolores is trembling, “I miss Mama and Papa…”

Peso is saying, “You pray for your mama and papa with every beat of the heart which they made for you.”

Dolores is covering her mouth, “Your candles are always sweet.” She exchanges a coin for the candle.

Peso is saying, “My candles are made from beeswax.”

Dolores is wiping her eye, “Where do you get beeswax?”

Peso is saying, “From the Chanting Cave.”

Dolores is narrowing her eyes.

Peso is offering, “I can show you. It is not too far. You will be enchanted.”

Dolores is asking, “Why have I not heard of this ‘singing cave’ before?”

Peso is shrugging his shoulders. He is saying, “The Chanting Cave. I have told no one else about this place. Not even Father Lucianus.”

A goat path is the trail up those undulating hills.

Peso is leading Dolores.

Dolores is remarking again, “So many flowers. This path is more lovely the farther we go, Peso.”

Peso is smiling, “The farther we go together.”

Dolores is suddenly waving her hand in front of her face. She is saying, “Oh, a bee.”

Peso is assuring, “The bees will not hurt us.”

Dolores is noticing more bees in the air and on the flowers the farther they journey.

Peso is raising his hand above himself. Several bees alight on his fingers.

Peso is laughing, “Hello, friends. Let us shake fingers.”

Dolores is asking, “Peso, is this really safe? There are so many…”

A breeze is suddenly upon them.

Dolores stops. She is now hearing a low drone ahead.

The drone is wavering and undulating in the breeze. It is seeming to engulf them.

Peso is saying, “We are close.”

Peso is going ahead of Dolores.

Dolores is rounding the path behind Peso. She is looking at Peso. Peso is turning to Dolores and gesturing ahead.

There, ahead, is an ancient gash in the side of the hill. Where the portion of the hillside had fallen away there remains the maw of a triangular cavern.

From the throat of the cavern is emanating the undulating drone.

Dolores is taking Peso’s hand, afraid.

Peso is announcing, “The Chanting Cave.”

Dolores is asking, “Why is there smoke around the cave?”

Peso is delighted to say, “Not smoke. Bees!”

Dolores is watching the wisps of bees all around themselves. She is saying, “I am scared, Peso.”

Peso is assuaging her fear, “They are my friends. They know me. I have come here many times with my burro to carry away beeswax.”

Dolores is asking nervously, “How can you take away their beeswax? Why do they not attack you? I have been stung by a bee only one time. I cried. It was like fire.”

Peso is saying, “Have faith. Come with me.”

In the mouth of the great cavern the reverberating drone is felt by Dolores and Peso. Dolores is still holding the hand of Peso.

Those droning exhalations of the cavern are passing over them like waves.

The swirls of bees are parting around Peso and Dolores as they are stepping forward.

The eyes of Dolores are becoming adapted to the cavern. She looks above and she is gasping, “Oh, look.”

The ceiling of the great cavern is covered with enormous honeycombs. The honeycombs form great pendulous structures.

Peso is pointing to the floor, “The floor of this entire place is deep with ancient fallen honeycomb. This is what the bees allow me to take to make candles.”

The cavern floor is exuding a miasma of fermenting honeycombs

Dolores is saying, “This place scares me, Peso. I want to leave now.”

In the ears of Dolores the undulating drone is beginning to sound like a thousand muffled voices.

Peso is saying, “Father Lucianus told me that the Aztecs who once used to live around here honored a god of bees and honey. His name is Xmulzencab.”

Peso is now whispering dramatically into the ear of Dolores, “This is his home.”

Dolores is now squealing. She is mincing out of the mouth of the cavern.

Peso is following her closely and apologizing, “I was teasing you, Dolores. I was joking.”

The wavering droning is suddenly louder.

Dolores is turning to look behind at Peso.

A cloud of emerging bees is now muting the sun.

Dolores is screaming.

Peso is standing cloaked in a raiment of bees.

Peso is speaking with the droning voice of the bees, “Dolores, you will have neither sorrow nor fear. Your mother’s body is the earth. Your father’s body is the sun.”

“You have penetrated the heart of a god.”

Peso is kneeling to Dolores.

Peso’s voice is droning, “Beloved Dolores, I thirst for the honey of your human heart.”

.

.
#
.
.
~~~~~~~~~~~~^~~~~~~~~~

KISS THE GODS AND MAKE THEM CRY 🌄

KISS THE GODS AND MAKE THEM CRY

🌅

Dark is hunger
Light is food

I am
Now

I am
Here

Now is
Sky fire

Light
Touches here

Smell
Touches here
Sound
Touches here

Cold
Earth
Green

I am
Warm
Earth

Man

Sky fire
Now
Over
Earth
Green

Light
Born
There

Warm
Touches
Here

Sky fire
Hunts
Sky

Now
Others
Here

Now
She
Here

Smell
Touches here

She

She
Moves

Now
Others
Move

Hunger
Mouth hunts
Green
Born
Food

I touch food
I touch mouth

She
Touches food
Touches mouth

Others
Touch food
Touch mouth

She moves

Others move

Now
Others
She
I
Smell touch
Dark hunger

Dark hunger
Food is man
Food is woman

Others
She
I
Move

Dark hunger
Moves

Dark hunger
Sound
Touches
Others
She
I

Move
Move
Move

Dark hunger
Hunts
She

She is
Sound
Touches
Others

I am
Sound

I am
Hunt
Dark hunger

Move
Move
Move

I am
Sound
Sound
Sound

Move
Move
Move

She is
Sound

Dark hunger is
Sound
Here

I am
Sound
Here

Dark hunger
Here
Moves
Now
There

Dark hunger
Now
There

There

There
Cold
Earth
Green

Now
Dark hunger is not

I am
Now

She is
Here

She I
Hunt
Sky

She I
Touch
Sky fire

She I
Touch mouth

.

.
#
.
.
~~~~~~~~~~~~^~~~~~~~~~

THOSE WHO HAVE EYES

THOSE WHO HAVE EYES

Today is Friday.  Good Friday.

I was driving up to New Haven to share Easter dinner with my father.

This coming Easter Sunday is on April First, April Fools’ Day.

I thought idly, “The Disciples must have felt foolish finally stealing away with Jesus’s dead body on Easter morning when he didn’t rise.”

I was alone on the road.

I was half way to New Haven when suddenly my car jolted.

“Holy shit!”

I was baptized in adrenaline as I swerved to the shoulder of the road and I stopped. I stepped out of my car and looked back down the road.

I saw him.

I called to him, “Are you ok?”

He was about thirty years old with long hair and he was holding up a crux with a sign tacked to it.

I trotted towards him, “Are you ok?”

I saw then that his sign stated: “Cruz Fuentes, you must decide.”

I halted.  I exclaimed, “How, how… do you know my name?!”

Then I noticed the phone book near his bare feet.

The man spoke.

“You see what you want to believe.”

I asked in disbelief, “Do you have a sign for everyone in the phone book, or something?!”

He answered, “Or something.”

I stared up at his sign and I asked, “What the hell must I decide?!”

He answered, “Exactly. Decide.”

“For godsake, who are you?!”

He answered, “Who do you think I am?”

I stepped back, saying, “Some fucking weirdo!”

I stepped back again, “What do you want?!”

“I want you to decide. The only thing that is truly yours in this life is this choice.”

I stepped back, saying, “I am out of here!”

I strode back to my car. As I opened the door I glanced toward the weirdo. He had turned his back to me.

I got into my car.

As I pulled the door shut I was awakened.

#

I am upside down inside my crumpled car. I am trapped. I struggle to move but I am in agony. I hear people yelling. I smell gasoline. Smoke! I cough bitter tears. I hear fire crackling all around me. I can’t see. I scream in darkness.

.

.
#
.
.
~~~~~~~~~~~~^~~~~~~~~~