Nameless Lady cured
She put salt into a light bulb she had remanufactured into her own drug tool and began to shake it around in order to clean it out. She broke open several mini thins and separated the caffeine as much as she could from the ephedrine on a small glass picture of Jesus. She proceeded to dump the ashes of the mixture into the light bulb lighting it slowly. Smoke fumes began to form inside the bulb and she took a cut in half straw and began to suck up the fumes. It tasted like rat poison and Ajax. Her face frowned a contorted expression and she began to gag- but no smoke came out. The fumes just seeped into her brain, heart and lungs, as her pupils grew larger. She took about ten hits, each time gagging at the horrible taste. The smell was rancid. Her pulse sped up to unsafe levels.
She had no electricity, no phone, no friends left. She was now wired. She had pawned just about everything she once owned for one drug or another. Her brain began exploding with a million creative ideas and pipe dreams all at once for a split second.
Then a deep depression came, as it always did.
An empty feeling in her gut and soul she could never explain to any doctor because there was no cure. A red candle burned next to her and she set down the light bulb and straw for a minute and laughed aloud to herself. Her cat, named root canal sat in the half pitch-black horribly hot house staring with his green eyes at her. The glimmering candles wax melting slowly at 6 a.m. as a lone dog down the street howled from hunger and loneliness.
She sat in silence wishing she had a cigarette. She put more of the gray dust into the light bulb and held the lighter under it too long. It exploded in her face with shards of glass burrowing into her forehead and eyes. She didn’t bother to wipe the blood off or try and wash her eyes out with water because her sink didn’t work anyway.
She just grabbed the candle and frantically began searching cupboards and cabinets for another light bulb, but found none. Root canal followed her around with a puzzled look on his face, scratching at his fleas.
‘Oh fuk it,’ she thought. She got the rest of the gray dust and made two huge lines and snorted them up her rotting nostrils. It was a sharp burning pain that tasted like toxic dried unflushed toilet water from the pits of hell. She wondered how in all shit it could be so dam hot in Texas. She missed her air conditioner. She wished she could at least plug a fan in. Sweat dripped down her sagging breasts as she sat naked on a mildew piss drenched green 1970’s garbage picked couch.
She chopped up a vivarin and quickly snorted it up each nostril. She got out a pen and a notepad and began to write any words or thoughts that came to her mind. Jumbled sentences and words that weren’t in any dictionary poured out onto the binder paper. She sat and did this for hours, with her speeded out feet and jittery legs tapping non-stop on the wooden floor. Root canal sat on her lap purring, bouncing up and down, and staring at the words she scribbled down. She ate the last of her xanax bars, four of them. She pulled out some warm mad dog 20 20 and began to take gigantic slugs from it staring at the gibberish she had written.
Her eyes began to have spazmatic twitches and her left hand began quivering uncontrollably along with her abnormal heart flutters.
“Booojooocooowook!” she blurted, half laughing, half crying.
The wick of the candle slowly grew smaller and smaller. She stared down at her unshaven cunt and began twirling the pubic hairs into dread locks.
She took the gibberish she had been scribbling and stuck it in the candles flame letting it burn into ashes and dropping it on the wooden floor. She scooped up the ashes with a bent 3 of clubs card. She rolled a cigarette from the now dusted words with a blank sheet of binder paper from her notebook and began to smoke it.
“Holy Fuk!” she screamed, remembering she had 5 ambiens left. She quickly gobbled them down with her last swig of mad dog and began fingering her clit as her whacked out mind thought of sexual fantasies. She came 7 times before falling to her floor rolling around in her own juices. Root canal lay next to her watching as a stream of vomit came shooting from her mouth like a fire hose.
She started hallucinating that children were outside her street singing cheerful mystical songs. She peeked out her closed curtains and saw small children holding hands dancing around in circles in front of a fire hydrant. The children had wings sprouting from their hairy purple backs. Midgets with frog legs flew above the telephone poles dropping golden egg shaped turds from their assholes. When the turds hit the ground a new child would hatch and join in with the other singing children. The fire hydrant began to spurt a rainbow of colors from it that shot into the night’s air like alien fireworks.
She lay back on her couch humming along with the songs she thought she heard. She kept staring at her window with the curtain half cracked open now. A ball of orange and yellow light appeared at the window and moved into the center of her living room hovering just above root canals head. It was a magical ball of tranquility that set her mind at peace. She began laughing hysterically.
“Beautiful,” she said aloud, a tear falling down her blood covered face.
Then the ball of light vanished and the candle died out. She sat in the pitch-black humid house staring at root canals glowing eyes till the sun rose from the rain clouds.
The nameless lady opened her front door naked and began to walk towards the railroad tracks smiling from ear to ear. She lay on the tracks waiting, hearing the train making its way towards her newfound freedom and possible cure
Bad Influence
Marvin opened his front door after a knock on it. A beautiful young lady stood there in the sun. She began to tell him about saving trees and the environment and how George Bush is going to destroy the world and air we breathe and something about ozone layers. She wanted him to sign some petition and donate some money to some hippie cause he cared nothing about. Marvin pretended he was interested in what she had to say and invited her in. She hesitated for a moment probably wondering if it was safe, but then entered his house.
She sat down and went on with her boring spiel about saving the earth. Marvin didn’t really care if the entire world blew up tomorrow, but she was pretty, so he sat and listened. He nodded and smiled at her, then offered her a drink.
He had been drinking all day.
“No thank you,” the pretty girl replied.
“Why not?” Marvin asked.
“Because I don’t drink.” She said.
“Well why the fuk not?” he asked.
The girl began to look a bit frightened.
“Just don’t like to drink is all, but anyways, would you be interested in donating some money to this cause to save the earth and trees?”
“Does it look like I have fuking money to be throwing around for some bullshit I don’t really care about? I mean look at this dump I live in.” he said, lighting a cigarette.
“Ok sir, I’m sorry to have wasted your time, I’m going to leave now.” she stood up to leave.
“You can’t just come in my house and try and ask for my money without at least staying for a drink.” Marvin told her.
She tried to move quickly to the front door but Marvin jumped up off his lazy boy chair and stood in front of her, his breath reeking of cheap whiskey.
“Sit the fuk back down!” he yelled at her.
Now she was truly frightened and began to start crying.
“Sit down bitch!” he yelled at her again.
She sat down shaking… “Please Mr. Please, just don’t hurt me, please just let me leave.”
“Not until you have a drink with me.”
Marvin poured her a double scotch and insisted she drink it. Her shaking hands took the drink. She began to drink it as Marvin sat back down staring at her grinning. She was crying hysterically at this point.
“Oh fuk, quit your fukin whining, I aint gonna hurt you, I just want someone to get drunk with me, I’m a very lonely man.”
“Please just let me go, I promise I won’t tell anyone.” She cried.
“Shut up and drink that drink fast!” he demanded.
She tried her hardest to guzzle it down without vomiting.
“So what’s your name sweetheart?” he asked her.
“Leslie.” She whimpered
“LESLIE!, all Leslies I have ever met have been useless whores!”
Marvin made her another drink, demanding she drink it.
“You think I’m some sort of sicko? Don’t you?” he asked her.
“No sir, please, just let me go, I’m feeling sick, I don’t drink, please….”whimper whimper….
He made her drink 7 more drinks and she suddenly stopped crying and relaxed a little.
“You see, getting drunk is fun, isn’t it?” he asked her.
“I guess I do feel sorta good,” she said, slurring her words.
Marvin pulled out his crack pipe and loaded a big white rock.
“Now smoke this>” he said, passing it to her.
“Oh god, no, please sir, I have never ever done drugs in my life, please stop this.”
“Smoke it!” he yelled at her.
She took a huge hit and began coughing.
“It tastes like burning Barbie dolls.” She said.
Marvin laughed and said… “but how do you feel?”
“I feel actually pretty good, except I think I’m going to throw up.” She said, as a stream of vomit came rushing out of her mouth and nostrils, all over Marvin’s carpet.
“Oh Jesus, it burns,” she cried, half laughing now.
Marvin’s dog came in and started licking up the scotch flavored vomit.
“You’ll be ok, have another hit of crack, it will help,” he said, loading her another one.
She took another huge hit and a sudden smile came to her face.
“Man, I feel funny, I feel really good in a strange way.” She said.
“I’m sorry I puked all over your carpet.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Marvin told her.
The pretty girl sat there high as a fukin kite staring around Marvin’s walls at all the paintings hanging up.
“Who painted all these?” she asked.
“I did, do you like them?” he asked, taking a hit himself.
“They are kinda weird, kinda cool looking, did you go to art school or something?” she asked.
Marvin laughed at her.
“Hell no, school is for idiots, they teach you nothing you cant learn on your own.”
He made her another drink and forced her to drink it even though she begged him to please just let her go now.
“Look little lady, I told you I’m not going to hurt you. I’m just giving you an education in drug abuse that you would have never done on your own because like most of society you have been brainwashed into thinking drugs are for losers.”
“That’s not true, I have tried pot before in high school, and I just choose not to do drugs.”
“shut up and drink,” he demanded. So she did.
After a while she was telling Marvin her entire life story, and Marvin was a good listener.
She began crying out of sheer joy and pleasure from the wonderful buzz she had going on.
“Now do you see why I made you do this? It’s because people who have never tried these things have no right to judge people like me.”
“You know, I think your right.” She said, now smiling.
“Can I have another crack hit?” she asked.
“Sure honey,” he said, laughing his ass off. “want to try some heroin too?”
“Oh no, that stuff kills people!” she said.
“No it doesn’t, I’ve done it everyday for the last 20 years, I’m still alive.”
“I really shouldn’t,” she said, hitting the crack pipe.
Marvin busted out some powdered heroin lines and demanded she snort some.
By this time she was so wasted and feeling so good that she figured what the hell.
She loved the heroin but began vomiting more. Marvin shot some up himself.
“This is the best feeling I have ever felt in my life.” she said, wiping off the puke from her chin.
The girl eventually passed out on his couch and he wrapped a blanket around her.
When she awoke, she asked for more crack, but it was all gone.
He told her to go get some money and to come back.
So she did. Eventually she dropped out of college and moved in with Marvin and became a complete drug addict and her family and friends never heard from her again.
Gecko jellyclown
Mad, insane, bi polar, lame retard-
Normal, fine, productive destruction
Gone exit, sounds, faces-
No one to call- nothing to do-
Excited, happy, calm, meditation,
Snap, xanax, better give-
Guns, no! you!, stop!
Doctors, assholes, dea, postal, gimme, don’t..
No anti-inflammatory! Die kill-
Fire me and you pay dearly
Cold shoulders, ass kissers, rumors started
Yeah, im the big jerk as always
So let it be
Jobs are nothing, people so worried about stupid shit,
Money is nothing, this town is nothing
But a pin prick on a boring map
Bursts of depression in splattered paints
Tears, puss, heavy music, more whiskey,
Sex cunt cock body dead aborted fingernails
Plans, adventures, future, always move-
Half drunk, fully drunk, sober, panic attacks,
Scars, broken bones, books, female witches,
Call in sick
Out to get me, not out to get me, get away,
cameras
Push, poke, all gone,
Ambiens
Need
Users in every crevice
Like wiggling lizard tails
Dancing on white trash kitchen floors
& a cat pawing at tail
escape
urges cheese
debt pushes death, dealers.. don’t answer phone-
at work for 3 weeks
this lady sits at the huge wooden middle table
I don’t know what’s wrong with her
She is spazmatic, her whole body,
She looks like a homeless skeleton
Her head, her movements,
She stinks like piss and shit
Weighs about 63 pounds
Sometimes has a wheel chair
I saw her flopping like a caught fish once
in the middle of texas avenue
causing a huge traffic jam
no one stopped to help her but me
I got out of my truck, and picked her off the hot cement
Walked her to the other side of road
With cars honking! People yelling!
I nicknamed her the jellyclown
Cause that’s what she is, a huge rubbery drunken jelly clown
She symbolizes my death, or life, or something,
She stays my entire shift
& I can’t concentrate on my shelving
every time I glance at the jellyclown
she does this weird circular movement with her head
& opens her mouth all wide,
then nods at me, like we have some sick psychic bond,
I hate it, it freaks me out,
The other day she stood up,
and fell down with her spindly spaghetti legs,
then got up,
And came at me, her mouth gaping,
saying, . “ugghhh…ash, mister… mum agghhh!
Then she fuking farted and goes.. mrrrppphhh. Owwwwwch!
And headed for the ladies room
I think she shit herself…
I pick up the books she leaves
on the wooden middle table every night after she leaves
& it’s always true crime, and torture books, and witchcraft shit,
maybe Satan himself sent her to make my life more miserable
I hear she use to be a physics teacher or something
Before her sad disease took over
I don’t give a shit if she was a rocket scientist
She needs to go away
& she always demands I make more free coffee!
“CAWWWWFEEEEE!”
she squeals at me, falling down,
dropping some shitty brown cup,& snot rags
all over the carpet..
don’t get me wrong, I respect her bravery,
just can’t deal with so many others drama
fuk it, mad insane, maybe she’s stalking me,
in love with me, my paranoid mind thinks
oh Christ, no, why me, im sorry, stop torturing me..
I made the mistake of telling the jelly clown I paint once
Today she goes
“wheeeen can iiiii see doh paintings!”
“never” I told her
“Whyyyyyyyyy!” she asked, shitting herself.
“Cause my paintings are scary! Twisted creepy shit” I told her
“Awsssooooommeeeee!” she said, her head spinning around like the exorcist..
im gonna move?
some major change is coming
something bad, or maybe good,
this town is beyond dull
only the jellyclown knows for sure
& she won’t leave
till it happens
whatever it is
electricity gets shut off tomorrow
& if money grew on trees……
no one would want me dead
for reckless debts
I create
To live in the moment
Staring at the jellyclown
Everyday
With red sleepless hungover eyes
Shit shoveler
Rising vibrations among the chit chatter faces
Out there they talk in Swahili, in my living room
Some fast for days- some refuse sleep for weeks
Mystics strung 30 feet above rivers for 6 weeks
Others going completely insane in locked ghetto houses
Rain comes down on this day & the lint left
In wet pockets could never last an eternity
the smoke evaporates into air with a lonely final squeal
Sudden changes in thought
Alone time interrupted pregnant homeless girl
“NO TALKING!, Quiet Time!” the hunched over hermit demands
“Something’s wrong with you!” she spits
teeth grinding, nicotine fingered, cheap beer guzzling
ambien tweeker head exploding with ideas
like bombs dropping over rained out villages in distant countries
the misery and screams, body parts lay twitching, headless torsos,
the spicy smell of foreign food wafts from a broken down brick building
filling the nights air, mixing in with smells of fire, death & putrid bloody
body parts,
a dark skinned man in shock walks around with bare feet
holding his child’s blown off leg
laughing and singing incoherent tunes aloud
staring up at the sky with question mark pupils
men in three-piece suits eat gourmet meals
drinking the finest wines
in mansions built from following orders
they lay heads down in fluffed pillows
kissing decaying wives wrinkles goodnight
sleeping like golden spoiled babies
draped in red white and blue
back home, sad hopeless faces stare at bills and empty wallets
white trash dogs bark at every noise behind my yard
all the socks reek, the shirts dipped in body odor,
shoes untied, hair unshowered, dirt in my nails,
broken fridges & clocks that don’t keep time
coughs in living room, agitated fiends fighting depression
sirens, trains, people down the street
at clubs over dose on embalming fluid and rocket fuel
crap jobs for centuries as untalented rappers make zillions
roaches hide in dark crevices waiting for lights to go out
every living creature wants to nibble on something
sippin barley past 3 am in a dungeon of my own filth
one v8 in 2 days supplements something some say body needs
rapid weight loss kicks in, eyes sink into head, black circles form,
up, down, mix it all around- then apparent hallucinations appear
hands become snakes, feet become bunny heads, voices in head out now speaking
outside of head, next to me, singing sesame street tunes in Russian,
flying green bugs the size of watermelons flap past the blowing fan
teddy bears talk, cat becomes half human, standing on hind legs
pointing to things in the air, like some opera composer
then the screams start again, ecstasy sours to agony-
rabid painful haunting howls from broken souls
& the sun rises above the humid wet rain
like a bright exploding full moon of new change among the dead
among the lost sounds of a piano song in a candle lit basement
a man cries tears of red wishing the engines noises would cease
eyebrows singed on gas stove lighting last cig
laughter and coughs echo in Swahili living room
deformed crack babies rain down from thundering skies
users use the man till he collapses from exhaustion
none of them knowing
all the things growing in his bankrupt head
his alarm set for one hour of sleep
8 hours of hard work for 40- dollar days off
|
Nicholas Morgan
