That pale moonlight
at about a month ago
how bad the food tasted
Daddy thought the young side was chirping The young side didn’t chirp
Great, at seventeen… the young side didn’t count
Is there anything?
Not having a will, I didn’t raise your son
I didn’t tell him to just confirm the good in you
There was a mason jar Finding it, I cried
Jump
Experience Life
Having free bodies, we never realize what we lost
It’s amazing how the time flies
Frank was a personable guy He flunked law school, but he liked to play He got killed in high school
They listed him as MIA
Anywhere you lay your head is home
I’ll always be there…
watching over you.
This,Cassie had known, ever since she [static] Cassie, my nephew, a driver in a small van
had wounded
seemed very apoplectic
the life of me
deep tissue scarring
my world
89
her limbs crushed beneath [I find myself crying, feeling a very empathetic, deep sadness] press a button release the hatch arrived in pain Bobby was still throwing a [static]
thrashing like a giant pistol assault rifle no ones knows where the bodies are by the side of the lake a gorge a pistol crying in despair I sat there watched him pull the trigger dust cold, green grass a river spotter fishing thought it was a hoax drowned in despair I took a watch It keeps on ticking turning point freedom viral release the words the dead can’t speak the records will show this none the less cut open the bag the keys are in the trunk murder violence brute force the facts remain I’m cold ice a sad time of year making a living by the stream these notes do not indicate the past From a vantage point however the fish swim see grasping curdles in their mouth like straw sipping at Coke Please don’t make me come back and spoil it for you a bronze star on my bed morphine in the shack squirrels in the rafters were obtained for medicinal purposes The bodies don’t disparage
[An automated sales call comes in on my cell phone, from Fox Lake, Illinois. My left ankle hurts]
Get up
Therefore, I don’t think answers are dependent upon any predetermined formula, but honesty or lack thereof, of the persons involved.
As I awake in the morning, I slowly become aware I’m still silently conversing with Dad, the characteristic cadence of his voice (speak and pause, speak and pause) not just apparent, but emphasized in this semi-dream-like state.
I can feel his presence, with my mind.
But it’s as if my father’s pauses are now purposely lengthened and multiplied, to give me time to write everything down.
This is the house where my untreated delusional mother was isolating herself in medical neglect, occasionally found wandering through the woods.
When I posted up no hunting signs on my mother’s property, Marshall made vague threats to cause bodily injury to me, the remaining nondelusional current inhabitant of this home.
Marshall also sent pizza to my mother’s address a few months ago (around the time her lean was bought I believe) instructing the delivery boy to insist her house was “his” house. I asked Dad about this in my mind, like a prayer.
[*3:00 is in Brazil on the Military Mass clock I found that belonged to my father he used in the war, plus around the time yesterday I was laying on his grave crying and praying to God for him, that his voice would be heard]
talk
talk
he then raped me
he shot him in the head
he blamed the gun man
talk
talk
he killed the case
so he could now
walk
walk
In the Most Holy Names of Jesus and Mary may the people who did this to my father and his family get justice served, no more, no less.
Unraveled and the Birth of Joy 