Post Script

I meant to tell you more,

 like how my aunt Lila  massaged Nixon and I wanted to kidnap your dog for an anti spa day. I read your business blog, every word to try to understand what you do so seemingly effortlessly. I never shared how I wanted to groom you like a mother primate. That I could never figure out when you where showing me professional face, so I rarely believed you, even though you never did me wrong. How my legs would shake on my way to see you, and when I seen you the shakes turned to butterflies in my belly. When I was alone I would do impersonations of your impersonations and giggle. I had seen the cash you were trying to give me and tried to run down the stairs so you wouldn't. How when I climbed into your sexy little car I felt I was stepping onto the closet of Narnia, because your world was magical and foreign to me. I wanted to tell you all about that time I was in New York and had the most delicious food and was taken shopping for the most delicate lingerie, but you were there. I want to reminisce the winter the saw mill went on strike and the family lived on peanut butter and potatoes but kept that to myself. I wanted to confess after I smeared lube on your eyeglasses when you were in the bathroom and drew hearts on the lens but didn't. I wanted to tell you how much I love you and  would never hurt any part of you, but that was only part right.

Suicide Ghosts

You don't always see the suicide ghosts, but their all around you. Fuck, I'm one.

I wasn't always so vague. Oh hell no. I was full of life. I was sunshine and warmth in human form. Full of virility. My future shined and I floated with my feet on the ground. You seen and felt me when I entered a room.

But I was not invincible. Not even close. Suicide ghosts are victims only of their own smug ego's. They get too big for their strong bodies and the physical form can no longer hold them

Bam! I never seen myself coming. I was above myself.

Empty and hallow now without emotion is how I spend my days. I hurt too many people, there is no pain left for me.

So I spend my hours drifting about. Cold and empty.You will think you see me occasionally, but not really. I am mostly invisible and you will look right through me. For those I love I will on occasion turn the karma up so they do not forget me. Most of them anyway.

Memories. At least I have the memories.

Falling in a Rainbow

It was an in and out deal. Fast. Easy. Done.
"What kind of veggies do you want with dinner?"
She knew later never to spring a question like that on him. Pre question him before the real question. "I wonder what I should make for dinner tonight?", is an excellent set up question so he had time to think it over. When he said a question it came out as a statement. Which made his statements a question.
"Oh. how about parsnips? Ever had parsnips?"
That was too many decisions for him to think on all at once. He wanted to please her.
"Yes", he answered wild a panicky bewilderment in his eyes. His tone of voice told she otherwise.
"Why don't you grab us a couple?", she told him as he was the one standing in front of the tubers.
The man bagged up two rutabagas and put them in their cart. He stood there like a big puppy hoping for her approval.
Later while they were sitting on the couch enjoying their dinner he ask, "Why have you never cooked these for me before?"
She laughed at his statement and promised she would again.
"I love you" he said. But she didn't need to answer that question. He had thought on it a long time.

Lunar Tick

Flow sweeps in on the full of the moon
a parasite with no regard
to the werewolf's she eclipses with her wrath.
Run, my friend run.

The Day Her Yoga Pants Ran Off

She found a yoga class on line and went to get her pants out of the closet. They weren't there. She checked the jammie/stretchy fat pant secton. And the black pant area. They were not with the chefy pants or the substitute teacher pants.The group home pants stayed in a group of their own so she did not waist her time there. They knew better than mingle with the prison pants. Puzzled she went as far as to bend over in her big now torn apart closet to check the special lacy drawer to see if they had got board waiting for her and had gone to seek out their own excitement. No luck. They were long gone.
She sighed and plopped down in the tangle of cloth on her closet floor. How long had they been gone and she never even noticed their disappearance? Did they leave of their own accord or where they taken? Maybe they snuck out in a gym bag. Those soft pants may have went wrapped around a wayward kitten or used to soak up spilled kool aid before being tossed. She just hoped they had not hidden behind her dryer so long they instantly combusted to end the wait. Really pants, are twenty years too long to wait?

Chair Dancing Chick

The girl in the chair behind me dances in her chair, I hear the swish swish swish as she practices the foot work. I wouldn't notice it in her soft shoes but she is so short her feet only graze the top of the carpet. It might not bug me so much but I am trying my best to remember this shit. Some of it I once knew, most I never did. More than likely I never will unless the little Hmong chick knocks it off.
I have worked on her in my other class. She is build like a squat little tea pot. A tea pot that can move like a willow and bends like over cooked pasta.
I breath. I practice my breathing and try not to snap. This baby girl is doing what she does. She is a dancer. The rest of her dance troop lead by the mother that is twice her size but half her statue could hurt my anatomy worse than any mangled body shown on the white board up front.

Life's Turn

Dear Life,

So you went and flexed your muscle and got me fired. Fired. Me! I'm the firer. I fired that job. Fired it I did with my pistol and one straight shot. BAM! I stopped showing up for work. Dismissed my firepower all over your face. Save yourself the walking papers, filling them out is more work than I ever did for you, Munkay.

Life's Passages

Dear Life,
I thought I was traveling down your road when the metaphysical me cut off the physical me. And I was in the left lane! After my third Red Bull I caught up to myself. What were you and your multi personalities doing in the carpool lane? Good thing that cop didn't see ya there. Lucky for you I distracted him with all my swerving and yelling, "Save me! I'm having a heart attach here!" Thank the energy drink for my fine acting and quick thinking ability eh.
Going back to the couch now waiting for the other me to join me, Munkay

Life's Journeys

Dear Life,
I'm just gonna lay here on the couch another day and watch you pass by. Send me a post card when you get to where ever you are going. I've seen faster snails.
Closing my eyes for just a minuet, Munkay

Lifes Meow

Dear Life,
Why does the word "crazy" always precede "cat woman"? Why not "loving"? Why not "Humanitarian"? Or "Felineatarian" if you must label specific. "Empathic" would work for me.
"Sensitive". "Smoking hot multi talented" even. Wanna descriptive catchy term? Try "Inequitably superior intuitive intelligent level spanning femme fatale"? Rolls off the tongue don't it. Almost like a purr.
You change that while I change the litter, Munkay

Lifes Tricks

Dear Life,
Down right deceitful that's what I'd call it. The food pyramid is now a pie and that pie is the anti-pie. Don't eat sugar that foul pie says. Moderation in fat. LIAR! It's the veggies that kill. Damn homicidal produce. Listeria in melons. Salmonella in grape tomatoes. Spinage that gives you the runs. Shit in strawberries. Ok call it E-coli if you must but it will kill ya. Sugar never hurt anyone. Its side effects maybe but hey. Dentist need to make a living too.
Come over for coffee and dessert soon, Munkay

Kent

You.
You took my husband.
You took my social standing.
You took my trust.
You took my reconnection.
You took my time.
You took my future.
You took the family.
You take that piece of shit.
You can have him.
You.

Lifes Limits

Dear Life,
This late term abortion thing you got going, whats the guidelines on this? Fifteen is not too late right? As long as it doesn't pose a risk on my health. It is my body driving him around listening to bad music and working to buy my teenage fetus's necessity's. That stress that's a health risk right there. I should have a choice no?
Send me the name of a good licensed clinic, as I don't want to do anything wrong, Munkay

Life Stinks

Dear Life,
What kind of sick sense of humor do you have anyway? Gas. Yes so vital in gastronomic health but so socially unacceptable. Hell it is more permissible to smoke in public than toot. Someone should come up with a designated area for flatulence, like ten feet away from an entrance of a building and call it ...a bathro-never mind. I just remember a freer time farts wafted free and there was pride in their creation. I guess this goes hand in hand with that age joke of yours eh.
Stop making cabbage rolls so delicious, Munkay

Lifes Mercenary

Dear Life,
Send me a grief councilor asap will ya. And give him (her) a high power rifle with a sick scope. Oh and sharp shooting skills along with ninja moves please.
I promise I wont stay blue long, Munkay

Hangin With Laney

I enjoy my girl time with Elaine, I really do. We have a lot in common her and I. I don't have a lot of girlfriends with free time I can hang out with. And neither does she. But now Lanes got me.
She is just a couple years old than I am, but much worse the wear. That wasn't a very nice thing to say about my girl. Please don't tell her I said that. Others in our neighborhood arnt so polite. Mostly it's her teeth, or lack off that make her appear old. But when she grins those gaps between her stumps allow her to make a soft whistling sound that's charming to the disconcerting ear. Her hump gives her the posture of a geriatric, but its not her fault. She takes calcium, I've seen her. With that displaced shoulder of hers she bound to have a unique stance.
We attract attention and turn heads when we go out and it concerns us not one bit. We are used to it. We often walk arm in arm through the park when the weather allows. People move out of our way. Some times they talk behind their hands. Smart asses will even question our intent. "What the hell do you think you are doing!" comes their admonishments when Elaine spontaneously joins in their pick nick uninvited. "Wet blankets" and "buzz kills" I whisper into her ear as I readjust my grip on her transfer belt. Shes had a rough life, Miss Elaine. She seizes joy when she can.
We have an exercise plan, us girls. I try to come up with things a lady her age would pursue. And it gets us out of our male dominated homes, she lives with her brother and a couple other guys and me well I dwell in testosteronville. Mondays through Fridays the plan is to walk or swim for an hour. Sometimes we don't feel like it and we just sit in the van and eat. Eating is Elaine's passion. And she is quite good at it. "GOO GOO GOO", she will yell with enthusiasm when I pull into a drive through. She is a chick of few words, two actually but when things are good they are very goo.
I will not force her out of the van if she doesn't want to go no matter what her guardian wants. If Elaine doesn't feel like exercising, I'm not going to force her. There are personal decisions not for anyone but Elaine to make. But I will go back and write in her journal that she accomplished sixty minutes of weight bearing activities per required. If it is deceitful to her guardian, too bad. Someone should have thought about her well being before shaking her beyond repair. But then I would have never met Lany. Or maybe I would and the state would not be paying me to spend time with her.
Her father Elmer comes to the house to visit on rare occasion. He brings produce for Elaine's brother, but never for Elaine. He speaks of the vast farm he owns west of town. There are pictures and articles of his generous good will donations and the success of his farm. No pictures of Elmer with his battered children.
"Elmer" I asked during his last call as he was sitting at the dinning table sharing pickles with his son. "Elaine has recovered from her ear infection, should I go get her?" "No he said. I'm not good with girls. Not my generation". It was Elaine's birthday. I let her eat all the cake she wanted that day.
He made his excuses and started to leave. "Good Bye" he called on his way out. "Momma" was the reply.

Life's Wagers

Dear Life,
Sorry I lost you to Wade today. And why would anyone remake "Foot Loose" anyway?
Never liked it never will, Munkay

Life's Sand in your Egg Salad

Dear Life,
I bet you get tired of being called a beach all the time. I know I do. The first million time it was cute. But now I'm so sick of it. By now I would much rather be reckoned with a plato or a fjord.
Tell those damn crevasses to stop, Munkay

Life's Fruit Bowl

Dear Life,
When you give me lemons, I'm going to find a new life.
Prefers vodka cranberries, Munkay

Life's End?

Dear Life,
So what becomes to me once you are done with me? Had your fill? Ever think about that? Cuz see, I'm pretty committed to you. Here for the long haul. Why do you get to pull all the punches and call it quites at your connivance? I wanna say in this. "Munkay what do you say in this?", I ask myself in my best life like voice. "LIFE!" I reply in my whiskey voice as I exhale the Lucky Strike smoke and reach for another chip.
Chow for now, Munkay