MEET COOKIE THE POOCH, ERRBODY AND THEY MOMMA LOVE COOKIE. YO MOMMA, HIS MOMMA, HER MOMMA’S MOM, COOKIE’S A CLASS ACT, MAN’S BEST FRIEND. COOKIE’S THERE WHEN TIMES ARE TOUGH, COOKIE’S THERE BECAUSE HE’S SUPPOSE TO BE THERE WHEN TIMES ARE GOOD. ‘WHERE IN THE WORLD IS MY DAWGY?’ IS AN ERRATIC CRIME BOSS, IT’S A CRIME! IT BRINGS IMBALANCE TO WHAT HAS BEEN ORGANIZED IN FAIRNESS TO NATURE FOR ONE PERSON’S GAIN, SO FUCK IT, FOOS KIDNAPPED THE DUDE’S POOCH. MEET THE GUNMAN, ESTOBAN POTRASKY, HE’S A COLD FOO’ BECAUSE HE’S PISTOL WHIPPED A FEW CHUMPS ‘BACK IN THE DAY, NEVER NEEDING TO LITERALLY MURDER ANYONE IN GOD’S LAND. IS THE GUNMAN’S CONFLICT, THE DOG’S A HIGH PROFILE POOCH — WILL BE CONSEQUENCES FOR ANY HARM DONE ONTO THE DOG. THANK GOODNESS FOR THESE TWO CONVENIENTLY PLACED CHUMPS LOOKING TO BUILD THEIR PROFILE. ESTOBAN SOLD THESE GUYS A PIECE OF CAKE PICK UP, SURE ‘PICKING UP A CRIMINAL’S ILLEGAL MONEY ALMOST ALWAYS GOES THE WAY AS PLANNED; NEVER CONSIDERING THE PROBABILITY AND LIKELY CERTAINNESS, IF SOMEONE CAN AFFORD SUCH A RANSOM, THEY CAN AFFORD TO DESTROY! JOSE AND JEREMIAH DON’T KNOW ANY BETTER, MAN, THEY’RE LOOKING TO LIVE THE DREAM. WHAT ARE THEY DOING OUT HERE IN THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE, AT THIS TIME OF THE NIGHT, WE DON’T KNOW. ‘ESTOBAN SAID HOMEBOY OWE HIM SOME MONEY, ONCE WE COMPLETE THE MISSION, WE GET PAID,’ SAYS JEREMIAH. SITTING SHOTGUN IS, JOSE. JOSE STAY TO HIMSELF. ‘WHAT ARE YOU THINKING? WHAT DO YOU HAVE GOING ON, OVER THERE?’ JEREMIAH ASKS. JOSE NODS HIS HEAD, NO. JOSE DON’T FEEL LIKE TALKING. ‘COME ON, OH-GEE. WE MIGHT BE HERE A WHILE,’ REPLIES JEREMIAH. ‘IT FEELS OFF, LIKE, I DON’T KNOW, OFF,’ ANSWERS JOSE. ‘YOU’RE
NERVOUS. I’M NERVOUS, ITS CHILL,’ REPLIES JEREMIAH. ‘YOU WANTED ME TALKING, NOW I’M TALKING. LIKE, HOW BIG IS THE PICK UP FOR US TO BE OUT HERE LIKE THIS?’ QUESTIONS JOSE. JEREMIAH KNOWS AS MUCH AS HIM, NOTHING IS SAID. JOSE CONTINUES, ‘YOU’RE GETTING A LOT OF MONEY FOR THIS?’ JEREMIAH REPLIES, ‘YEAH.’ THE ANSWER DOESN’T MEAN MUCH TO JOSE. ‘I’M MAKING TWO-GEES. YOU?’ ASKS JOSE.
‘THE SAME,’ ANSWERS JEREMIAH. UNBEKNOWNST TO THEM, THE CRIME BOSS DOESN’T OWE THEIR LEADER A BABY’S DICK, LET ALONE HALF A MILLION DOLLARS. THE PICK UP IS NOT GOING TO GO WELL, THEY’RE GOING TO GET OUT THE VAN, THEY’RE GOING TO TAKE A SPANKING, AND WILL BE HUNTED DOWN ONCE THE DOG IS BACK IN THE OWNER’S HANDS. A HALF BEATEN TO DEATH JEREMIAH AND A HALF BEATEN TO DEATH JOSE WILL HAVE TWO CHOICES: DELIVER THE BAG AND GET PAID PENNIES ON THE DOLLAR — ALL TO HAVE A CRIME BOSS LOOKING FOR THEM, OR TAKE THE MONEY TO VEGAS THEMSELVES AND DAMN IT, WHO GIVES A SHIT, ‘WE’RE ALREADY TARGETS,’ SAYS JOSE. ‘WHAT YA’ MEAN?’ ASKS JEREMIAH. ‘THEY MIGHT GUN US DOWN ON PRINCIPLE. MIGHTEST WELL TAKE THE MONEY AND BE RICH,’ JOSE INSISTS. ‘YOU DON’T HAVE ANYBODY HERE, YOU HAVE NOTHING HERE — ?’ A TIMID JEREMIAH IS INTERRUPTED. ‘— NO, MAN. I’M ON MY OWN. BEEN ON MY OWN, YOU?’ ASKS JOSE. ‘I GOT MY GIRL. I GOTTA LOOK OUT FOR HER,’ SAYS JEREMIAH. ‘FUCK IT, LET’S ALL GO TOGETHER. I’M TELLING YOU, WE GIVE UP THE BAG — WE’RE DONE. LET’S SKIP TOWN!’ SUGGESTS JOSE. YOU KNOW THEY’RE GOING TO TAKE THE MONEY AND RUN.
THE GOAL IS TO CAPTURE AS MUCH OF IT AS YOU POSSIBLY CAN BEFORE IT COLLAPSES. THE THING TAKES EFFORT TO PIECE TOGETHER, WHAT IS THE LABOR ABOUT? SOMETIMES, CRUMBS OF A PERSPECTIVE, OTHER DAYS, COULD BE A QUOTE, COULD BE A PHRASE, MAYBE A WORD THAT QUILTS A WEB OF THOUGHT, THINGS TO HOLD ONTO, SAVE OR PRESENT? FINAL AND COMPLETE’S TAKING FOR’EVER, I ALLOWED THE TASK TO BE THE POINT, I AM AS I WOULD, I AM WHERE I STAND.
SCENE,
‘TELL ME, YOU A COP?’
‘YEAH. I’M A COP. AND I’M HERE TO BUST YOU. I’M HERE TO BUST ALL OF YOU!’
LAUGHTER FOLLOWS THE RECORDINGS PLAYED IN A COURT OF LAW.
WAS A SCENE TO A NIGHT THAT IS NO MORE, IS A DETECTIVE THAT DID NOT LIE IN COURT.
END OF SCENE.
THE BOARD IS FOR US ALL. LIKE ANY OTHER TALENT, LIKE ANY OTHER SKILL, THE BOARD IS AN OPPORTUNITY AT OUR MOST, A MAN, A WOMAN’S ABSOLUTE. BRILLIANT, UNDER CONSTRUCTION TIL FURTHER NOTICE. CHESS PLAYERS AT THE PARK, ‘THE THING ABOUT THE BOARDS BIG BABY IS — YOURS IS NOT MINE LIKE MINE IS NOT YOURS. YOU SEE, IF YOURS WAS MINE,’ MOVES ON THE BOARD, ‘THAN IT WOULDN’T BE YOURS IT WOULD BE MINE, AND IF MINE WAS YOURS, WELL I WOULDN’T HAVE THE MUTHAFUKKA NOW WOULD I? MINE WOULD NOT BE MINE IF WERE YOURS LIKE YOURS WOULD NOT BE YOURS IF IT WERE MINE, YOU LISTENING TO WHAT I’M SAYING? IS SOME SERIOUS SHIT GOING ON, RIGHT NOW!’ SAYS MILKWEED. BIG BABY AND OR CORNELL IS MILKWEED’S FRIEND, THEY’VE KNOWN ONE ANOTHER FOR MANY OF YEARS, ‘YOU DONE OR ARE YOU FINISHED? YOU REDUNDANT MICROWAVE OVEN SENSE OF ENLIGHTENMENT HAVING, YAPPER. YAP, YAP, YAP. TALKING LIKE YOU KNOW SOMETHING,’ CORNELL MAKES HIS MOVE, ‘GO!’ MILKWEED LOOKS AT THE BOARD, HE BEGINS, ‘I KNOW YOU’RE A GOOD PLAYER, SO I’M NOT LETTING ANYTHING SLIDE,’ MILKWEED COMPLETES HIS MOVE. CORNELL SMIRKS, ‘WHAT’S THAT SUPPOSE TO BE?’ HE ASKS. NOTHING IS SAID. ‘I’M SAYING, YOU WERE TALKING BIG SHIT, NOW YOU WANNA SNIFF BUTT, HUHH — !’ CORNELL MAKES HIS MOVE, ‘CHECK!’ HE SAYS. MILKWEED MAKES A SACRIFICE. A FEW MOVES ARE HAD, A COUPLE MORE, ‘AND — I OWN YOU, CHECKMATE,’ SAYS MILKWEED. ‘LIKE A THOUSAND YEARS LATER,’ ANSWERS CORNELL. ‘YOU’RE GETTING BETTER,’ MILKWEED REPLIES, THEY SHAKE HANDS.
an obscure practice known as poetry.
the sky is not blue, today. i like it this way. it is as planned as a pollock splatter. chatter of today, ramblings of tomorrow. thinking of times i miss. i close my eyes. it twists, it drifts, it turns, it bends, it folds, it shapes, it breaks, left, up, right, down, right, left, and backflips into a pool of the abstract. arrived a dream of tomorrow. lick it and stick it on the page. you were there. and you were there. so were you. you in the blue, yeah, you too. ‘our next stop, elmhurst,’ is announced over the intercom. it’s gone. i get off the train and make my way into a local bodega, for my usual before work. a bacon, egg and cheese sandwich, small coffee, light and sweet, please.
God gave us what we needed. It is up to you to get what you want.
A dream we remember, I’ve been thinking of this feeling.
like a poet, but not really
Something gentle, like your kiss. Something cruel, like your fist. Something fragile, like your heart. Something firm, like our love. From the shouts, to the tears, To the goodnight whispers, in your ear. How solid it was, How broken it is.
I think of you, when my eyes open. I dream of you, when they close. I talk about you like you never left. But, I’m missing you like,
Never forget what it is like to be a child. No matter how old you may get, the feeling never goes away. It is child-like the way I feel about you.
I wish I knew how to paint, so I could MAKE SOME OF THE COOLEST STUFF IN THE WORLD. WAS THE DAY. SO I TOOK A CLASS AND WAS INTRODUCED TO MY LIMITS WITH A PAINTBRUSH. BE VULNERABLE. NOT KNOW FROM TIME TO TIME. IT IS GOOD FOR YOU. BACK TO THE STORY, HOMIE DROPPED A HEAVY ‘R’ WHILE WE WERE FINGER-PAINTING, I LAUGHED, TOUGH. ‘WHAT’S GOING ON, HERE?’ SHE SAYS.THE GIRL NEXT TO US SPILLS THE BEANS, CRUCIFIED ISN’T THE WORD. OUR INSTRUCTOR’S ALL SORTS’ OF LIVID! THERE ARE RULES TO LANGUAGE. THESE ARE WORDS WE DON’T USE, BECAUSE OF THE TRAUMA SUFFERED BY COUNTLESS PEOPLE. TO BE FAIR, MY PEEPS AND I SPEAK INSENSITIVELY WITH ONE ANOTHER ALL THE TIME. COULDN’T STAND THE HEAT, HE WAS LOOKING FOR AN OUT, SENT IT MY WAY. ‘NO, SIR. YOU’RE AN ADULT, WHAT SAY SO DO ‘I’ HAVE OVER THE THINGS ‘YOU’ SAY?’ IS WHEN HE DECIDES TO BRING UP SOME
BULLSHIT THAT GOT ME BANNED FROM THE NIGHTCLUBS. SUFFERING LIKE PREJUDICE AND MISCONDUCT IS NO LAUGHING MATTER, BUT I’LL TELL YA’ THE STORY. JESUS IS JEWISH, NOT — A JEW. TRUE STORY, LOOK IT UP. ERRBODY GETS OFFENDED WITH CONVERSATION, IT HAPPENED, WE’RE OFFENDED WITH IT HAPPENING, WE CAN’T TALK ABOUT IT? IT’S ALL I GOT, TALKING SHIT, IS NO BETTER. IS WHAT I DO, OTHERWISE I HAVE NOTHING, A ZERO, SQUARED, PHUX WITH YA’ BOY!
NEVER AGAIN, I DON’T DO THIS STUFF NO MORE, I’M OUT THE GAME — FAMLAY.
WAS WHEN I ROMANTICIZED AN IDEA, GAMBLING. WIN LOTS OF MONEY AND LEAVE IT ALL BEHIND MY REAR VIEW MIRROR, FOR GOOD. THAT WOULD BE LIT, INDEED,
PTA ACTS LIKE HE DOESN’T SEE ME OUT HERE AND EVERY TIME YOU ASK HIM ABOUT ME, HE ACTS LIKE HE HAS NO IDEA WHAT’S GOING ON IN THE MARKET, RIGHT NOW. I’M WATCHING YOU CLOSELY, MY FRIEND.
EXISTS NO SUCH THING AS A SHORTCUT. SHOULD SUCH A ROAD BE AVAILABLE, IT WOULD BE KNOWN AS THE WAY. I WROTE LIKE I WOULD SPEAK AND IT ALLOWED FOR A FILLING OF THE PAGE, THAT SAID, THERE IS AN AGREEMENT WITH THE MATERIAL THAT CROWDS A ROOM. MY PROFESSION BEING DICKENS AROUND ON A LAPTOP, IT DOES NOT ARRIVE NEATLY PACKAGED FOR YOU, DIG AND FIND, FIND & DIG. PLENTY HAVE ACCOMPLISHED A SIMILAR GOAL, PLENTY HAVE HAD SAY SO OF ITS SHAPE, ITS COLOR, ITS PURPOSE. BUILDING FROM GROUND, CONVERSATIONS WITH STRANGERS, IT EXISTS. MONEY GREEN, MONEY DREAMS, WHAT IS MAKING ABOUT? MONEY IS ATTRACTIVE, BUT REMAINS THE COMMON SOURCE OF CONFLICT, CORRUPTION, AND CYNICISM AMONG PEOPLE. MONEY WORKS AS IS, THERE’S PLENTY TO GET DONE; INVENT SOMETHING, BE OF VALUE — HELP SOMEONE LAUGH WHY DON’T CHA’ LEARN THESE COMPUTERS, WE NEED PLUMBERS! SORRY, LIFE’S NOT CUTE. MICHIGAN STATE, LAND TO THE GREATEST COUNTRY IN THE WORLD, WE WERE NOT PREPARED FOR THE CATASTROPHE THAT COSTS CITIZENS ACCESS TO WATER. IT TAKES EFFORT, IT TAKES WORK. IS AN ENDEAVOR THAT ALLOWS A PERSON, AN ARTIST, A LITTLE MORE. THE DOLLAR IS THE LAST THING YOU WANT IT TO BE ABOUT. IS A SUPER-DUPER COLLECTION OF MAD ELOQUENT JARGON. YOU SEEK PROFIT FOR GOOFING OFF ON AN APPLE DEVICE? YOU APE. ALLOW ME TO LAUGH AT YOUR DREAMS. A PERSON’S LIVING THEIR LIFE, THEY’RE NOT GIVING YOU TWO IF THEY HAD THREE SECONDS TO SPARE, IN OTHER WORDS, SHOULD SOMEONE CARE ABOUT WHAT YOU HAVE GOING ON, IT BETTER BE FIRE, TRY.
IT MAY FEEL LIKE YOU’RE NOT BUSY ENOUGH. IT FEELS LIKE THAT WITH ME. I’M NEVER DOING ENOUGH. THEN, I REMEMBER THAT DAY, THAT TIME, IT WILL REMAIN A WORK IN PROGRESS. ‘LONG AS YOU’RE MAKING, TURN IT OFF. ALLOW IT SOME TIME TO MISS YOU, ALLOW YOURSELF TIME TO MISS IT. THEN — HATE YOURSELF SOME MORE FOR SPENDING ALL THIS TIME AND MONEY, MONEY AND TIME ON TRANSLATIONS. TRANSLATIONS, TRANSLATIONS,
