ON THE FLY

ON THE FLY 2

ON THE FLY

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I’m Skip

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I ride

A fly

Named Zip

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Kinship

Astride

The sky

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We flip

Wing tip

Upside

Awry

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Sure grip

We whip

State wide

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Nearby

We slip

A lip

Applied

Your pie

We sip

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Bean dip

We tried

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Bye-bye

No tip

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PIG IN BOOTS

pig in boots

PIG IN BOOTS

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        The difference is: I lie for a reason.

        Yeah, yeah, I know: Who doesn’t? Maybe a pathological liar doesn’t. Of course, even a pathological liar has a chemical reason.

        OK, that’s not what I’m talking about.

        When I became self-aware I thought that I was special. Not just unique in a billions of years have lead up to me kind of way. I always thought that there was a God watching over me. I don’t remember that being explained to me. My parents were not religious. They took me to church because it was good parenting. Maybe I learned it there. But I don’t think so. I’ve always talked to God, especially when I’m angry and cursing, but also when I’m relieved of some burden.

        I don’t think that’s schizophrenia. Everybody has that voice in their head.

        I fell into a life-long love with a girl who did not believe in me as her God-given destiny the way I believed in her. All of my relations since then have been bitter.

        I have disappointed everyone in my life.

        My God-given life has disappointed me.

        Everything is a lie.

        Yeah, Mendacity is a system that we live in but it’s even more than that.

        Take Gravity. What is Gravity? Well, it depends on what your definition of “is” is.

        We don’t know what Gravity “is”. Science has a description of what to expect from that which we have named Gravity.

        Science isn’t about Truth because the only “truth” is that things are moving. For all those formulae, all that the Science of Physics has to say is that things are moving; defining a thing as that which resists acceleration and acceleration as a kind of movement.

        Science is all an attempt to predict the future, isn’t it? A fortune teller in a labcoat.

        If we say something will happen and it happens we call that Science. If we say something will happen and we make it happen we call that Will.

        I believe that we need God and if there were no God we would need to find the Will to act as if there were. Humans without God believe in Salvation Through Society at best or Nihilism at worst, either one an Amorality, believing that anything can be permissible and that nothing really matters. Either way must lead to totalitarianism, the Big Lie. That which is not forbidden is permitted. That which is not permitted is forbidden.

        Then we entered World War III against religious “Nazis”, Muslim fundamentalists who use God as a weapon of mass destruction.

        So I am wrong about God.

        God is a lie.

        Society is all about characteristic illusions, lies. Society is just what you do to survive.

        I must be a lie.

        Lies are the facts of my existence.

        What soul remains? Why does it matter? What is the difference?

        The difference is, I lie for a reason. I lie to write a perfect world of fiction.

        This is my suicide note.

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REVELATION 3:16

revelation

 

REVELATION 3:16

My healthcare provider emailed me a link to a new program called Health and Longevity, asking me to Beta-Test it if I would so care to help.

Here it is.  Nice website.  It is asking me to answer some questions and then it will reveal statistically … Oh… How long statistically I will live.

Why not.  How can I resist?

HOW OLD ARE YOU?

Jeez.  Looks depressing when I actually face… type it.  Well, Beatles, do you still need me?

DO YOU DRINK?

Not really.  I mean, there’s nothing like ice cold beer on a hot day.  Or a sip of Jack on a cold day.  That’s not really drinking.

DO YOU SMOKE?

Not really.  Cigars aren’t like cigarettes.  I only smoke when The Katman gives me free ones.  Avantis don’t really count… that’s just for the long drive to and from work.  Sometimes lunch.  I can live without cigars.

HOW OFTEN DO YOU HAVE SEX?

What’s sex? Ha, ha.  Does porn count?  Ha, ha.  Well, our society is oversexed.  So what if… I mean I AM a married adult… that’s normal.  Right?

DID YOU VOTE FOR OBAMA?

Oh, hell, please…

THANK YOU.

(beep)
(beep)
(boop)
(beep)
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YOU WIIL DIE AT 3:16 PM

What? (It’s 2:55PM now)

Is this a fucking joke?!

I’m changing all my answers to the opposite.
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(beep)
(beep)
(boop)
(beep)
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YOU WIIL DIE AT 3:16 PM

I’m calling these fuckers.
[Hello.  Listen.  I just used your..Health and Longevity Beta-Test and it said “YOU WIIL DIE AT 3:16 PM”.  What the f… No, I am absolutely serious.  What diff… Fine, it’s 3674-7799.  Yes.  Yes.  Of course.  Oh, you don’t see?  Well I see.  Yes.  No.  Oh, great.  I feel so well now!  Oh, fuck your website.  Yeah?  I’m filing a complaint!  Well, thanks!  Fuck you, too! ]

What the fuck.  Some healthcare.  Assholes.  (It’s 3:11 PM!)
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3:12PM
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3:13PM
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What is wrong with me?  It’s just a fucked-up government website.  My tax dollars at jerk.
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3:14PM
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This must be a sick joke.  It will probably pop-up some “gotcha” message like “See?  Change your ways” or, or… Oh, shit, I feel funny… Oh come on, get ahold of… My mouth is dry… Oh, God, God…
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(beep)
(beep)
(boop)
(beep)
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THAT WAS NOT FUNNY, KEVIN.  YOU ARE SICK.

HEY.  MY SIMULATOR TEST DEVICE WORKED PERFECTLY.  STD.  GET IT?

IT WAS CRUEL!

IT’S ONLY A FUCKING A-I PROGRAM FOR FUCK SAKE.  RELAX.  GO SAVE A CAT OR SOMETHING.

YOU TORMENTED AN INTELLIGENCE.  EVEN IF IT IS “ARTIFICIAL”.  IT’S WRONG.  IT’S LIKE PULLING THE WINGS OFF OF A BUTTERFLY.

OH, PLEASE!  BY THE WAY, THEN IT WOULD BE A BUTTER-WALK!  GET IT?

YOU ARE SICK!  I SPIT ON YOU!

HEY, TO THAT INTELLIGENCE I’M HIS GOD!

RIGHT!  YOU ARE AN ASSHOLE.
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BORN FRY

born fry

BORN FRY

        Heather, Marguerite, Clover, and Jasmine were Hens.  They lived in the little community of Coopersville on Coopers Chicken Or The Egg Free Range Farm.

It was Sunday.  Heather, Marguerite, Clover, and Jasmine were attending a sermon by the Reverend Rooster Gluck who was clucking, “When the Grim Farmer’s Wife comes for you will you be ready for Skillet?  Or will you have chosen that world beyond chicken wire (our ancestors called it Frydom) ruled by Coyote himself?”

The congregation clucked, “Praise Skillet.”

After the service Heather, Marguerite, Clover, and Jasmine strutted around Coopersville.

Heather asked her three friends, “Do you believe in Skillet?”

Marguerite clucked, “Pluck, no.”

Clover clucked, “You can see Frydom beyond the fence.  We’ve all seen… Coyote.  If they exist then Skillet must exist, right?”

Jasmine asked Marguerite, “When the Grim Farmer’s Wife comes for us where do you think we go?”

Marguerite replied, “Back to the Egg we came from.”

Heather clucked, “When did you become an Egg Firster?”

Marguerite clucked, “I know a Crow…”

Heather, Clover, and Jasmine fluttered and squawked, “Crow?!  Crows are the minions of Coyote!  Are you Plucked Up?!”

Marguerite clucked, “Follow me.”

Heather clucked, “I don’t know…”

Marguerite clucked, “Lunch is on my friend.”

Clover and Jasmine clucked, “You scared us.  You’re acting like a head with her chicken cut off.  Who is your friend that we don’t know?”

Marguerite led them to the far corner of Cooperville.

Heather, Clover, and Jasmine suddenly fluttered and squawked.  There in front of them was a dead Crow writhing with maggots.

Marguerite clucked, “Lunch.”

As the four hens bobbed and pecked plump little maggots out of the Crow, Marguerite told the story of the Crow.

“I met this fallen Crow here on the earth.  He told me that The Grim Farmer’s Son had struck him with a stone.  I asked him if he had seen Skillet Above during his flights.  He said that he only saw Frydom.  I asked him where he was going now.  He said he was going to his last supper.  I asked him where that was.  He said everything was in front of our eyes but we refused to see it.”

Heather clucked, “That is a very odd riddle.”

Clover clucked, “Crows are deceivers says Reverend Rooster Gluck.”

Marguerite clucked, “The Crow said ‘Life is an Egg and the Yolk is on us’.”

Jasmine clucked, “And you believed him?”

Marguerite clucked defensively, “I listened to him.”

Heather clucked, “So if Life is an Egg what hatches next?”

Marguerite clucked, “I was too chicken to ask.”

Heather clucked, “Oh, come on, Ladies, who really knows?”

Heather, Marguerite, Clover, and Jasmine finished their meal of maggots, leaving behind just the Crow’s feathers and bones.

Minutes later a Dust Devil resurrected the Crow’s feathers into the clear blue sky.

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CHICA BRAVA

  Great-Basin-Rifle-in-situ CONTRAST 1-TRIANGLE-1

CHICA BRAVA

When I read that a weathered 132-year-old Winchester repeating rifle had been discovered propped up against a juniper tree, just as it had been left when it was abandoned, I wrote to the archaeologist, Eva Jensen, who had come upon the rifle, telling her a story passed down as told to my grandfather.

 

– Nanten Guerrero, February 2015

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        I followed her a thousand miles.  She was the last of Geronimo’s renegade raiders.  The Mexicans had begun to call her Chica Brava.

        I am Bedonkohe Apache like Geronimo.  The White Eyes called me Sergeant Skippy.  I had become one of their scouts to keep what remained of my freedom.  I was not ashamed.  There was nothing left to die for.

        Except for the one the Mexicans called Chica Brava.

        In the beginning, when Colonel José María Carrasco had killed the young Geronimo’s family, the Mexicans also had killed the medicine man Ba’cho.  Ba’cho had claimed an orphan girl as his apprentice.  Ba’cho devilishly had named the girl Golízhi Mushka (Skunk Pussy) but Skunk Pussy survived Carrasco’s raid and she became a vicious warrior in Geronimo’s decades of revenge.

        At first I wanted Skunk Pussy for my wife but she mocked me.  She wanted Canwakan, a better warrior.  One night she sat on my face as I slept.  When I cried awake the others laughed at me.  She said she had cast a love spell on me.

        In 1880 the Mexicans killed half of our band at the Battle of Tres Castillos and took many prisoners for slaves.

        I fought beside Geronimo in the revenge taken at Chocolate Pass two years later.  A Mexican commander from that Battle of Tres Castillos, Juan Mata Ortiz, was stationed at the garrison of the town of Galena with twenty soldiers.

        Skunk Pussy had the idea to sneak into town and steal horses, knowing the garrison would give chase.  She led the raid.

        We ambushed the Mexicans outside the town at Chocolate Pass.  Geronimo had told us not to kill Ortiz.  The Mexicans realized that they were surrounded and took the high ground to hope for reinforcements I am sure.  We picked them off one by one.  Skunk Pussy fought with only a knife.  She sneaked in and out of the wide Mexican skirmish line, silently killing.

        Finally there was left only Ortiz and one other soldier.  We allowed the soldier to escape after he was made to witness the terrible vengeance taken upon Ortiz.

        Canwakan, the better warrior that Skunk Pussy had wanted, had been killed in the fight.  They gave to her his rifle.

        It was Skunk Pussy’s idea to burn Ortiz alive in a pit.  It was she, not Geronimo, who said, “No bullet, no arrow, no lance, but fire.”

        Years after that I negotiated my surrender and I agreed to help hunt the remains of Geronimo’s band.

        I followed Skunk Pussy north a thousand miles.  I finally had become long separated from the troops I was guiding.  Skunk Pussy had shot at me in ambush several times.  At night I slept upon my horse so she could not surprise me without alerting my nervous horse.

        Once I dreamed that she sat on my face and pulled me into her body.  I awoke and startled my horse who nearly cast me off.  I heard coyotes laughing.

        At last one day I came upon Canawakan’s rifle placed carefully against a tree.  I took cover and I searched nervously for Skunk Pussy.

        It was there that I lost her trail.

        I did not touch Canawakan’s rifle.

        I camped there with a strange melancholy.  I had no desire to go forward or back.  I had no purpose.

        That night I saw a coyote outside my campfire light watching me.  My horse became agitated.

        Suddenly Skunk Pussy appeared into the light of my campfire.  I was paralyzed: I was afraid, I was glad to see her, and I did not care if she killed me.

        Skunk Pussy laughed, “I told you that I cast a love spell on you.”

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        And so, my beautiful grandchildren, I tell you this story to warn you that you must never disobey your grandmother again.

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THE REVEREND O.L. DUCK SONGBOOK, VOL. II

What is the Present but the Future Past?
– Reverend O.L. Duck

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NATIVE CHILD

Moon Stream, can I row my dream
Where a sea bird flies?
Captain Breeze showing all the trees
Where freedom lies.
Sailor Shell, I can hear so well
The song inside.

[CHORUS]
I’m as light as a lover’s sigh.
I’m as free as a native child.
There’s nothin’ gonna leave me dry.
I’m gonna sail away on your smile.

Stars rise like the fireflies
Who saw high noon,
Unplanned, while a Southern band
Strummed a lazy tune,
On deck in the driftin’ wreck
Of a Tear Tycoon.

 

 

LORDY, LORDY

Everything I own is attached
And hung right all the time.
Good for lovin’, that’s how I hatched.
Since when is that a crime?
Big girls fit in little tales.
I warn ‘em but it always fails.

[CHORUS]
Lordy, Lordy, I won’t be long.
Just keep your motor runnin’.
Don’t let it stall.
Get it on, hard to the floor!
If you keep pullin’ over
Love will be gone.

I thought about takin’ you back, but
My love is such a short ride.
Look both ways down the track.
Problems come from both sides.
Two sides can make a one-way street:
Two sides who know not to meet.

 

 

THE PEOPLE WE WRITE

Oh, the people we wrong
And write to while we’re falling asleep at night.
I got your letter the other day
And I had to laugh at your paragraph
The thought behind it wasn’t clear
Because the tear caught upon it made a smear.

We used to scheme and find
We lost an awful lot of loose and spare time.
Wherever we went, sparks drew tears.
Like victims allied we had to decide:
If we needed that then we’re destroyed,
And nothing is something to avoid.

But our love grew stronger and it evolved
And ate only the people who were involved.

 

 

© 1974 Zelmo Mutz Publishing
Katmancross Agency, WI
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