Saturday, February 20, 2010

Eight Minutes
Afraid to see his face...
By the time they had left the smoky confines of that downtown bar she was no longer sure of her desires. They had been eating and drinking since the light of day, and now, pushing three in the morning, and staggering into the rain soaked street she had only heard the horn and screech of brakes. His head had turned into the oncoming light only to be whiplashed over the hood and into the windshield. A scream aimed at silence rose from her throat and bounced down the street like a golf ball on a cart path. The car stopped, blinking angry red tail lights and a door opened spilling a teetering man onto the pavement. His head was bleeding as disbelief flooded over his body. She moved closer to the scene, afraid of everything, including the pile of humanity prone on the hood of the late model Lexus. Walking as though dreaming, the driver's voice came through as if in a fog mumbling something about drunks and their place in the world. Standing with the door in her hand, the cracked windshield had blood racing down it and his face with his closed eyes and shredded skin became unrecognizable.

Ten minutes
Distillation...
My lunch break was cut short due to the exploded juice in my bag. Goddamn eco-friendly non-toxic paper thin containers. Bring back the can and bottle. I'm all for saving the Earth and leaving the ice for the polar bears, but this green movement is over the top. Soaps that don't clean. Herbs that don't cure. Plastic that doesnt cling. Food that doesnt taste. Toothpaste that encourages cavities. Stain that doesnt stain. Gas that smells like french fries. It's a consuming world and we are at the top of the food chain looking down on the spotted owl, the wood frog, the bald eagle and the third world. We covet, we desire, want bigger better faster more and the future be damned. I don't have kids or brothers, sisters or family so, Yes I am a cynical self serving ego-centric thorn in the side of today's society. I don't care. I live my life my own way. I don't toss cigarettes out my window or trash the sidewalks but I do drive everywhere, eat tuna, smoke pot, spend money on frivolous non-renewable products, gamble and have been known to shoot a squirrel or two with a BB gun. It's not a crime to be ignorant nor is it as uncommon as you greenies may think as most people only do the right thing because of public perception. Well, FUCK THAT. We're not all angels and most of us don't desire to be. We are products of our own making, a factory rife with pollutants populating the world with would-be do-gooders with the devil on every shoulder.


Eight minutes
In my pocket...
Is the general flotsam and jetsam of any given day, but on every day ending in a "y" is cash and a tube of hemp lip balm. I'm addicted to both in the worst way. I feel utterly and completely naked without my folded bills in the left front pocket and lip goo over there on the right. If I'm wearing shorts, they cohabitate. If I'm swimming they stay home in the locker/car/backpack. They get along as well as two addictions can, being wholly independent of each other and existing in separate but overlapping universes. If it wasn't for my pants, they would have nothing whatsoever in common and might possibly jump ship and strike out on their own. My faith in them though is unwavering and steadfast. I will be less likely to leave the house without clothes on then I am to leave without my two friends. They are a part of me, a single line in the multiple page description of who I am, two small inanimate objects living in a pocket.