The night that can not be scene
intertwined light from far and here
whispers in the night sparks a fire
energy flashed melodically sweetly
Cherry seed ecstasy moving freely
come come and again the tides
Thousand oaks echo beach
welcome miles east west last
neon spirit of the paper past
undead writer weathers the storm
shadows lose shape in foggy forms
Paranoid sky wishes for an alibi
fort white southern battle
great wall over the arrows travel
pierce the skin touches her heart
man made movie line scar
light in the sky breaks sound of
message metal smashes oil and slime
shame on the government and man's last line
bullets buzz the eastern sand
golden gas and the hanging hand
terror trips the free home land
an hour late waiting for day break
shaking in the dark electric spark
knock on the door death begs for more
black fills the vein screaming hate and pain
fantastic cosmic strip dreams the space ship
orgasmic vision cocaine spitting prison
angels appear and point the way home
Ruby shoe 3 tap dylan in a top hat
silver whistle alley way stray cat
Ronetta the queen peach skin diary
a walk through the leaves silver and lucky
away from the coast frost field seed
New york grey saint's ship bay
Ronetta the queen falls red day
carmine the king parades away
monets vision graveyard decision
arabian symbol gives perfect position
the fog filled lake pocket reaches bottom
the tower sways while white man pray
busted glass the halls echo laughs
silver tone blues in my head at last
sugar bells top floor dancing bash
waitress serving coffee for nothing but cash
blowing rainbow hues for me and for you
lonesome train homesick blues
staring at statues erected for the few
smoke ring through the trees lady bug wings
motley rug tapestry for penniless king
ozzy eyes that howl at the moon
russian winter morning and the silver spoon
Mays days shadow war mist gloom
drop of blood spinning wheel charms the loom
chatting owls at midnight wolves blue
the star calls tomorrow intrinsic you
chuck the taylor sneaks in his shoes
back and forth water pretty van girl
music from the bottom fishing boat pearl
buffalo six stole the emerald jewels
little lake lady milk shooting fool
someone call security hidden room view
history repeats lin won't eat peas
40 foot mattress feeding hurting bee
butter the queen chasing before me
pothos mothra's wisdom tree
looking upside backward too much for him
orb of mental madness blood on the chin
looking back for the ultimate wind
back from tomorrow beautiful sorrow
seagulls coast harmony to follow
a place in the clouds energy allows
riverdale highway crow in the ditch
marianne man made girl touches her lips
the heart beats time moments last grip
the great escaped final production switch
limerick green pot of gold field
singing dragon fortunes yield
confusions sorrow saturn seeds
velvet tuesdays nothing means
to everything turns turns thousand year mountain learns
tension no to mention released firm
joy division sub division penolope squirms
face the fear open the door flowers turn
pierce the dream hopeless stairs away
free ride for nobody cash for the king
echo dreams spindle diamond ring
crazy sexy cool one summer fling
on screen high school babes bell rings
smoking in the boys room full moon blue
beautiful disaster she always dreams you 2
with or without shooting loose screw
king city broken arrows cronos crown
billy goat horn glower for found
the devil continues to throw curves from his mound
battle creek golden born beauties form
hey you don't look so far away free way storm
dazzle dust flint spark clips
candy cane curl scarlet lips
tingle two toe the way she moves her hips
aliens on the western plains
zebras shooting for sugar canes
apache buffalo and lion manes
something saying something highway lanes
space between us brass bed frames
lay lady lay across my star struck fames
red in my head and the wishing game
sugar land texas giant hurricanes
Mountain the emerald beach dana's calling ward
fashion some sense gord must be bored
2 by four the gang broke the ark welding spark
so far to say away with the space again
New York park Jeckell cooper love in the dark
hey hey lake of fire ruby blue school
out for summer 69 channel st. katherine's pool
Lauren hill calling centre paying the bills
country cash delta river prison bash
Haywood dreams country seeds aint gonna miss me
Prairie and the buffalo shakin' for the gold
Green red october they found the cryptic gold
sip and side the angel light homer's in his sky
wishing riddles to deities grey mother spindles sky
Oak hill hall swishing basketballs
Frozen ghost fro silver city speed
looked in his eyes seen a little bit of me
Leroy's wishing copper penny lies
splash in the park wisdom's singing heart
operas last trip 2 destiny's ship
Blue and red waves homeless begging braves
gotta save the human race lucky's pretty face
fills inside of me never forget the lights of the sea
skating love lost the diamond tree
sonic scene youths fighting for truth
street punk busking with kittens for lunch
highway mate living signs all trust in fate
don't have hockey skates look who took the bait
our lady the jester sighs way up high
lake of the woods native cars and spies
whitehorse pan handle arctic cold medal
northern white chief crazy horse stead
beaver barrel canoe over the water fall
iron giant kick at the door monoxides breath 8 to 4
haunted house band dripping time through sand
robin's in the grass listening to 45's past
uncle sam wants me dreaming of late night meetings
purple crush a little hush all pray to the such
have you been telling lies have i been telling lies
cleveland rocks to roll green beer in beck's hold
pork chop market never again sergeant
pepper's red marine 40 carrot means
Dead jay's don't nest on the owned
disenchanted hero play guitar for sub pop alone
Hope AD punk roses find friend west
high definition snow board 360 five finger test
space station song ground control to agent tom
bush x glisten copyright infrigement
free bird starving man basement pots and pans
halifax bomb pop explosion log cabin rock erosion
emergency's dartmouth ferry hell calls you better be ready
she got me on a wavelength I waited for the river to answer
I know we're only lover trapped beneath the cover's
orange frost black crows call through the fog
wooden ships sail the ocean's lost song
causes and sparrows wills might and barrels
keiths amber whale the navy travel's
lady of the daffodil hippie mates
northern lights random hits in the states
lost stooges scramble rogers bets to gamble
empty street car table lone pine and maples
f18 star screen president orders speed
look back on tomorrow penelope follows
the petti swamp lights pandora's lamp
meadow lake scarecrow looks to wait
black haired woman tales graveyard position
snapshots of the highway echoes lost bay
I saw this pitcher once walk to the mound. A light rain was falling on the diamond. The crowd sporting umbrellas and pop corn that in spite of the rain stayed dry. Encouraged calls came from the dug out and beyond. Twilight was fading in with the public address system. "Attention the patron with liscence plate 3DSPCE, your lights are on", rang as the pitcher made pride to the mound. The public address cracked. Why I don't know. Maybe the rain. Maybe the age. Maybe a compitent operator hoping to make sounds that create depth and substance beyond glitter and glamor of a big league, hollywoodesq production. These players including the pitcher, who in between making pride leaked pain and glory, are amateurs, minors. The men that never get called up. Never get called up to the big office and given the ticket for the city of lights.
"Let's go Harlem", a woman wearing a white dress, with large black poko dots to go with dark, dark black hair said and clapped and smoked a cigarette all at the same time. Her purse, her white purse with golden buckles lay beside her half opened like the top of her dress. The contents revealing, the contents of her purse revealing cigarettes a lighter and a postcard from france dated November 11, 1952.
Dearest GingerAle of the starlit country
I thought of you yesterday this morning
And this after noon
smells of your hair and clothes haunt my room
taste of your lips dictate my speech
burns of your american cigarretes tease my soul
memories of our time move my lost mind
to journeys last dance of the stars and the moon's
howl at midnight over the Aegean to be free from the pull of your core
our time is destiny our moment etched forever
Was all of the poorly written poerty we could read from the carelessly (or maybe purposely, we don't know these things only the gods do when they have the interest to watch) open purse of the unsuspecting woman, we assume is Gingerale. "Gingerale, Gingerale", a woman's voice called out with a french accent. Gingerale, who we now know is Gingerale, who also happens to be wearing sunglasses turned around. "Gingerale, Gingerale, I left the lights on in the autocarriage", the woman with the body of an hourglass counting springs innocent fluctuations of motivation unknowingly, said in a french accent with the most beautiful of real scarlet lips exposed by her tethered back, brown hair that hung almost carelessly in a pony's tail.
"Oh heaven's Aliace, why in all the cosmos did you do that", Gingerale said. The natural lighting of the victorious day now only a distant memory as the ball park illuminated and the giant moths threatened to take over except for their insane attraction to the lights. "I don't know, I don't know, I simply forgot about the lights", Aliace said making herself comfortable and letting go of her black and white hand bag with a dot matrix of a man and woman in there youth sharing a sonic cigarrette and sitting down beside Gingerale.
The pitcher is now on the mound well lit by the diamonds shine. The smell of the park, the smell of the park for those interested and those who are not may as well skip a few lines or close the book entirely, because the smell, the smell is what brings the readers to places like this. Places a little difficult than most places to find. Imagine the smell of crushed peanuts on cracked concrete a little damp. Fresh grass, real grass not astro turf, whatever that was, with a little bit of dew, not morning dew but evening dew or the after effects of a light rain not a soaking just a moisture and those moths threatening but never drawing from the large lights. And the smell of bodies, people from lawyers, bankers, to construction workers, house wives and working women.
There was a buzz in the crowd. A warm hum of conversation. Today the visiting Hawks were playing the hometown team Ravens. The Ravens hadn't been contenders for years, eons, decades but the crowd still came. The crowd always came rain, shine and the rare snow storm. The blizzard of 44 they called it. The Ravens beat the favoured Blood Hounds in an early blizzard in the month of October. Randy the catcher Wallace hit one out the park in the bottom of the ninth to bring the home team to their feet and home to their wood stoves. They still talk about it, the crowd, the city. The city, well the city is called Rhea. It's like most cities with your good parts and bad parts. The ball park borders on the good and the bad so as not to exclude anyone from attending and being a part. There's the occasional scuffle but the west side usually stays on their turf and the eastside throw their calls from their side. The cops they hang around and watch the game but no one really knows what side they're on. They remain neutral that barrier between two competing forces. When one side gets too rowdy or steps out of line the coppers are there to pull em or push them back in line. The freedom is watching, watching change unfold. The cops they're just players too playing a game. There's good cops and bad cops, depending on what side your on the easterns, the westerns. Now Clint he was a good cop, he sided with no body but that's another story.
The pithcer let go of some fresh chew on the green, green grass illumated by the candescent lights of the park and parked and unparked the baseball in his leather mit. Tony the Tiger Smith was warming up in the batters den doing the normal things hitters do and the things normal people don't. Tony in all his big city hopes and dreams was doing things with the bat, swinging, swaying, teetering and praying. Not that normal people don't pray its just the manner he was doing it. If found in a church or on the street this man would be accused of extremism and maybe shuned by the normals. Fortunate for Tony this was not a church or the street so he was safe to swing and sway on his beliefs. The catcher pulled up his socks and motioned to the pitcher for some throws.
The stadium was in need of a good renovation and clean up. The field was clean, equal and level. The players play because they love to play. The observants watched because they love to watch the game. The observants made themselves comfortable in the stands. The high price tickets are closer to the field while the lower priced tickets made there way to the back. The further back you go the more remnants of games gone by are found, ticket stubs, popcorn bags, soda pop bottles and hot dog boxes, among other more rarities.
Among the rarities kicking around the feet of the spectators was a note to someone from someone else and this is what may have been read.
"In the event of my demise these are my thoughts, dreams and wishes. The stars burned bright hopefully, the moon sullen like something was stolen and things yet to happen. I starred forth into to light spoke my thougths only the truth that which I knew and still hold sacred. Time on earth finite. Dreams of the beyond infinite. The relationship corelated and unrehearsed. If this scares you it turns me in wake and death. My belief being spoken from the heart and such truths only condeming if they are not so."
This was all we could read and at such a distance we consider ourselves lucky. Whose words these were we do not know. Why they were writen we still have no idea but there is a baseball game going on with many an interesting character some of whom we have already met. Lets get back to what we know. "Harlem looks really good tonight", Gingerale said looking through her looking glass spectacles. "Oh he does", Aliace said focusing on her little mirror and powder. Aliace was always ever so concerned with her look and features as beautiful as she is.
Harlem the pitcher was in his tenth year. Yes ten years in the minors and no call up. He was what you call a veteran of the minor leagues. Ten years and no call up probably meant he would retire in the minors. The Ravens manager called his name for this one. Not the flashiest or the quickest but the steadiest hand they had.
The Ravens had not been contenders for years.....Past tense.(though the author makes terrible sense of tenses this one is important because in the present tense the Ravens are competing for a penent. This game crucial for playoff birth and so much needed pride for the city and organization) That being said they called Harlem to pitch a winning game.
Harlem wizzed one over the plate. STRIKE! Tony the Tiger smith did not swing as he thought otherwise, gave the ump a look and spit the other way. Harlem curved another one hoping to catch Tony swinging. Tony held his bat as the ball went inside. BALL! Tony winked at Harlem who he barely knew himself being a rookie and all. Harlem wipped another ball outside hoping to bait the green wood of Tony. Tony eyed it and decided otherwise. BALL! Tony smiled at Harlem who stood expressionless. Harlem decided to give him something and threw some heat. STRIKE! The call came before Tony could decide if he was going to swing or not. Unfazed by the pitch Tony motioned some swings in preparation of his fate. Harlem let go something different and Tony decided to swing for it. CRACK! Tony made contact and felt succesful as he headed for first. The ball was a grounder caught by the short stop Tiny who threw Tony out at first.
"Nice up Harlem, nice up", Juno said. "Do you feel like someone is watching us?", Super Nova asked. Juno looked around her hair bouncing to and fro like a bunny on saint patricks day then stopped to see a man in his early thirtees wearing worn out blue sunglasses, that looked like he had cried a thousand tears thinking about things no one would ever know. Startled by Juno's glance the man in dirty blues looked left and reached for his pop corn unsuspectantly. "Well now that you mention it Super Nova I do feel some strange eyes about", Juno said. "I knew it wasn't just me. I've got this sense when I'm being watched. It's not an unpleasant sense, just a sense none the less", Super Nova said her eyes passionate and calm like a virgin sunset on a sweet sixteen birthday. "Soda, Pop Corn, Hot dogs, Cotton Candy", the park vendor chanted walking the stairs and working the crowd. "Are you hungry Super Nova", Juno asked her eyes with intention. "Well I did miss supper", Super Nova said her eyes as large as the full moon of the wild county. "Mr., Mr.", Juno said getting the vendors attention. "Well yes mademoiselle, i'm here for you as you know and there are many things available. How may I satisfy you tonight. Juno looked at Super Nova wondering where this boy was coming from. Super Nova looked expression full and hesitant with intent, eyes moving innocently and half smiled. "Blue cotton candy?", Super Nova suggested. The boy vendor reached down and picked a stick of blue cotton candy and handed it to Super Nova. Super Nova said nothing reaching out for the cotton candy her eyes seemed to learn with loose focus on the man. Juno reached in her open purse for a five cent piece and handed it to the vendor. The vendor pocketed the five piece momentarily was taken back by the beauty of the women sitting in area 51 and wondered what just happened. "Peanuts, pop corn, chili dogs", he echoed across the stands. Juno looked at Super Nova smiled and curled her nose like a happy bunny very content. Super Nova moved in on the coton candy with her wet wet lips. "WOULD MOLLY JOHNSON PLEASE COME TO THE BROADCAST TABLE, MOLLY JOHSON PLEASE COME TO THE BROADCAST TABLE", the public address system echoed still cracking like an A.M. radio.
The tragic moths making their prescence ever felt sounded accousticly unwanted but stayed despite what everyone else thought except for the author who found their company displaced a lonely soul with the thought of a memory's afterglow. Wishing the author could erase the last line, and let everyone know who may or may not be concerned, that the author lies in bliss at the sound of Chopin.
The game continues even though we get perplexed with our own affairs....thanking the gods who may be watching that intstant messaging has not yet been invented. The spectators, intent on the game as their own thought play out in a psycho social endeavor of east and west. Wearing clothing of many colors, blue, red, silver and gold. The spectators are as important to the game as the game they watch.
A dull ooooh and ah from the crowd sudgests a big play from the diamond where we must now turn our attention. Big John Davis hits one out of the park echoing memories of the spirits and ghosts of glories past. The home team now in the lead by 1 some where in the 2nd. I think......, no scratch that thought I BELIEVE.
Little Joe Horton steals a base before anyone can take notice and threatens for third before Harlem eyes him down. Little Joe Horton taunting Harlem takes one step further for third. Harlem eyeing an out turns to home with intent to sell one across the plate begs Little Joe Horton for a run to third. Harlem turns to throw one piece of spit to second as Little Joe Horton was on his way to third. Now in a squeeze between second and third, Little Joe Horton makes and tries to make up his mind which way to go as his options become increasingly scarce. Giving himself a shake he turns back for second and slides. Juno raises to her feet and tipping on her toes to see the call.....OUT! A little excited she turns to and here, revealing her intentions and bodily apparitions of an hour glass figure that never runs out ot time.
Red faced and pumped with intention the blood hounds manager heads for the umpire chest pumping challenging the call. In a matter of dance and anger the umpire and manager plead their cases in an exibtition you would see in a silent comedy. That being said because the spectators have no idea what they are saying. A little scathed the Blood Hounds manager heads back to the dug out with the call still in tack and his mind a little blown.
Aliace....Gingerale called. Aliace and Gingerale being in the cheap seats the ones near the back of the stadium had to remove their lady like brass and worn opera glasses. "Harlem let the Blood Hounds have it down on second". This being a big game for the home town Ravens the play brought the crowd to their feet. Obscuring the view of the lesser paid and somewhat more enthusiastic back benchers, including Gingerale and Aliace.
In her excitement of the play and the moment Gingerale dropped her white purse with golden buckles to the floor beside her feet. Revealing the contents including the post card from france. Excuse moi Mademoiselle came a man's voice. Stunned and caught off guard Gingerale turned to see a man in a top hat with a moustache, yes she breathed a little taken. Attempting to understand french even though her french was very good in france she asked the man to speak a little English so we could all understand what this mysterious gentleman was talking about.
My name is Enrique you dropped your purse and you are very beautiful the man spoke in a French accent. A little embarassed she blushed from cheek to cheek. Hoping no one would notice she powdered her nose and checked both sides with her little mirror.
Would you like a cigarette Enrique offered the woman who he thought he met in a dream of blue and red in a opera between heaven and hell.(for those who believe in such places, for those who don't try to think of a paradox a yin to a yang for the eastern minds and the place cowboys come to pray and cowgirls cry, for you westerns). The dream was a surreal painting of Dalis hand who lived in New York during the fiftees and had a great many converstions with Ginsberg about time, love and the reality of first impressions.
Stunned and tongue tied Gingerale offered a smile and turned down the offer. Like a piano falling from the void above you could see Enrique's heart crush. Enrique put his cigarettes away and sat down. "Who was that man", Aliace questioned Gingerale. "Enrique, a french man with cigarettes", Gingerale replied. The writer that being me the one who's ideas we are all reading is in a little bit of shock and feels bad for Enrique's dream but he will live and learn to smile again, I hope. Enrique stood and walked out of the park gave the writer the finger and went to hang himself.
Looking down on the park and the writer Enrique aligned the stars told Gingerale his love will not die in death and lives beyond the grave as his ghost and cigarettes now haunt the park.
The moon high and tucked in the clouds smiled down on the park. Sparky the public address announcer who had no day job and was little paid for his comments was rumored to be an alcoholic. The lense and perspective of the story now in his way of the game looked the other way as he took another sip and paid no attention to the rumors. Radio nowhere as the out of towners liked to call the Raven's nest, the place the calls came from and no one ever answered back. Sometimes Sparky thought he was the only one in the park next to the players and some times he was.
This being a big game especially for Sparky, wore in his best clothes and sober as sober Sparky got, called the score; "ONE NOTHING RAVENS OVER THE VISITING BLOOD HOUNDS." Sparky being quite proud of his address muted the public address and took a private drink from his silver flask, dating from World War One where Sparky was a private, lost a limb and nearly his rank.Sparky held his position and flask in high honor being a hero of war and all. But thats another story and if anyone has anything to convalude the statements of hero and wars can ask their grandparents or their parents grandparents. You could ask Sparky but he's busy and occupied with his night job and memory.
While Sparky spent silent revalries of days gone by, Buddy the organ player who had side gig in a jazz band smoked a little and laid some beats and riffs off the organ during stretches and between innings. Being Young and Black he barely paid his bills and sat in the back of the bus when the team went south. When the team went North he sat where ever he god damn pleased, barely paid his bills and was friendly with the ladies, (rumored to be many).
The lights glare of the park and the shine of the dew on the green grass. Sent the park to a surreal plain with surreal figures all hoping to see their team win. Home field advantage and home cooking. The umps called 'em how they saw them. But a bump in the field playing to the homes teams advantage never stopped the rule of the runner from making it home safely. Joni the home plate ump called them high and away, low and out.
Harlem had the savy of ten plus years and junk to chunk at the plate. Ten years in the minors and no call ups. Times like this you wonder how well Joni knew Harlem and if Harlem really cared. Eye to eye you could call it. Rudie the centre fielder let go some chew and Harlem let another go between the strike zone. Clean, clean as Joni could call, "OUT".
The crowd responded but Harlem didn't hear. The zone they call it. Harlem was is it. No one knew. It was too early in the game but Harlem knew it. He'd seen it before. Seen the zone. Player's look for it but you can't find it you need to make it. Veteran's ups and downs. In the heat out of the heat. Writers write about the zone in the papers but that's after the game after the victory and celebration. Harlem was in the zone maybe his last and he knew it.
History they call it. Harlem has a lot of that. Seen a lot of games, a lot of batters. He knew their tendencies and what made them awkward. Keep the control. Keep the ball in his mit and past home. See the pitch before he threw it. That was the past and Harlem paid no attention. No attention to the past or the future just the moment and the zone was his. Pressure a lot of pressure. The crowd relaxed a bit. Harlem cleared another inning. Kept his shoulder warm, his arm loose and mind focused.
Do you smell cigarrettes? Aliace asked Gingerale. Gingerale smelled the air. Yes now that you mention it. Both Gingerale and Alliace scanned the crowd but could see no one smoking. American I beliveve Gingerale said. Gingerale and Aliace being of the living had no idea. But we as readers know who was smoking. Don't we?
Here I stand and face the rain. Were the thoughts thought by the Man smoking american cigarrettes from the void beyond breath, touch and taste. Gingerale felt a small rain drop touch her left cheek. She looked up to see a clear sky, the moon full. A howl came over the crowd as the ravens maskot drunk on euphoria danced naked to the heavens beneath the never more of his costume.
Buddy laid some time on the keys while the teams changed ups and downs. "I need to stretch my legs", Juno said to Super Nova. Super Nova looked to Juno and offered to come with her. "Where are we going", Super Nova asked Juno. "To the upper deck. I've got something on my mind. The man with worn blue sunglasses watched the ladies carefully not to go noticed and held memory to chest as Kenny Rogers went up to bat for the Ravens. She believes in me Kenny said quietly as he made his way to the diamond.
No boots or hearts......buckets of rain......Kenny Chanted hoping to take out the garbage and the Ravens deep to left. His favorite spot. Juno moved her hips up the stairs to the upper deck as Kenny embraced the pitcher with some hot swings motioning for some pitches. Super Nova catching every move and bounce as she followed Juno to the top of the stairs.
The man with worn blue sunglasses dropped his pop corn and walked unsuspectately to the stairs. Two men in blue and badge stopped the man in worn sunglasses and asked for identification. "Hey, Hey you! "We need to see some ID." The men in blue demanded. Facing the razors edge of the law, the man reached in his back pocket for his wallet. The heat was on and he knew it. His last confrontation with the law was what he hoped to be his last. Pulling two twenties from the holster of his leather offered up the bribe and and one blow for his last holiday.
Billie the younger of the two jazzed and Gravy the older of the two rocked to the tune. "He's not our guy", Gravy told Billie as he put both hard earned twenties in his back pocket. "What do you say we look the other way and let our man here get a head start", Gravy sudgested to Billie and man in worn blue sun glasses.
Kenny hit one deep in left and the man in worn blue sunglasses disappeared with the swing. Fine time to leave me as the ball hit the fence. A ground rule double, as Gravy took one back in the upper deck while the rookie watched his badge and wondered.
The man in worn blue sunglasses started to wonder what he was wanted for other than a bribe in the cloak of people and the dark on the night. Lighting a cigarette the man in worn blue sunglasses headed back to his spot in the crowd and lit a smoke.
Pop corn, cotton candy, hot dogs, cigarrettes the vender in red and white stripes said and echoed. Beyond the hum of the crowd the man in worn blue sunglasses in thought of memory long time gone didn't even notice.
Tom warmed in the batters box and Juno's imagination ran wild in the upper deck. Things too good to be true sometimes happen. Everything she dared to dream stood in front of her. A man rough and worn from the road, blue eyes and stubble a real cowboy.
Enrique's ghost sitting in the dug out looking out over the park blue smoke circles in the shape of spades wondering if anyone remembers him. My paper heart bleeds. Catch it if you can. The boys of summer playing, the night seeming so long. Gingerale looked closely through her opera glasses hoping to get a better look at the diamond saw what could only be explained as smoke circles in the shape of spades. Focusing and narrowing her gaze to the dug the aparition disappeared.
Doubting what she may or may not have seen. She put her opera glasses down and scratched the left side of her nose and blinked twice. Sending sudgestions to Aliace who was looking the other way hoping to steal a glance from a stranger three rows back. Aliace who was paying no attention to what was happening on the diamond turned to see Gingerale a little pale. "Is everythig alright?" Aliace asked Gingerale.
"I think I need a drink. I saw that stranger down on third blowing smoke rings of spades above the diamond." Gingerale said. Are you talking about the french dark tall handsome gentleman we saw a few pitches back? Aliace inquired. "Yeah, I mean I think so. He looked like a ghost from the nevermore" Gingerale replied. "Are you catching the fever?" Aliace asked puting her hand to Gingerale's cheek. "You feel a little warm. We should stretch our legs and get some air." Aliace sudgested. "Yes some air, some air would be grand." Gingerale said her eyes and mind obviously in another place. Standing a little light headed she started walking not paying attention and tripped taking a fall.
"Gingerale, Gingerale." Came Aliace's voice. Gingerale heard coming back to. Her vision blurry she saw a man over head. "Gingerale my name is Robert Zimmerman you simply fainted and the tears on your cheek are from lafter. You won't die happily ever after. You have the tomb stone blues." Holding her hand and preventing her from going insane. " I saw a man from here after". Gingerale attempted. "Gingerale your coming down with the fever." said Alliace.
"I'm a doctor, I'm a doctor." Came a voice and a push through the crowd. "Pills and paper flowers will save her she has the chemical romance. Take two of these and please try to tell me what you saw." said the doctor. "Pills and paper flowers will not save her. The hat the cat and the ace of spades have spelled her." Robert Zimmerman said. "I am a doctor and I have seen this beofore. Pills and paper flowers will surely save her", the doctor said. "The hat the cat and the ace of spades have spelled her", Robert Zimmerman attempted. "Get your pad mam the boy's insane", said the doctor.
"Aliace, Aliace", came Gingerale's voice. "Yes I'm here dear", "said Aliace. "Who are these people they are making me very nervous", said Gingerale. "Well one's a doctor and the other, the other is...", Aliace was saying. "A poet yes a poet", came Zimmerman's voice. "And a doctor of what exactly", Zimmerman questioned. "A doctor, a doctor that is it and nothing more. You my lad have no bump but surely to bed you must be. Those that dream when awake are called insane. That is it and nothing more", said the doctor. Robert pondering the doctors orders in his mind tosing the question from side to side said, "Surely a doctor of your stature can see the problem here. The problem is not in dreaming while waking but seeing the obvious and the obvious being she needs no pills and flowers from paper are for the sick who dream none at all. Of which I need none and the lady has seen one the cat two the hat and the ace of spades that spelled her", Robert defended.
Ginerale sitting up said a little clearer, "Yes the man in the hat blowing spades above his shadow of a seeing I was facing. Surely what I saw was not what I saw at all." "Surely she has the fever, blowing smoke and the ace of spades. She needs the pills and paper flowers", said the doctor. "Doctor who exactly." asked Zimmerman. "Frederick Chopin of france. I've seen this fever many a times in France and what she needs are pills and paper flowers", said Dr. Frederick. "Excuse me doctor, doctor Chopin but what I saw was very real", said Gingerale. "Yes the imagination", doctor Chopin attempted. "Yes the imagination prevails all. The lady was sleeping barely dreaming of a shadow she saw we are a facing. In rhyme and memory she has seen the things no one dares believes of the shadow we are seeing she is facing", said Zimmerman.
The crowd came to its feet in succesion and roared sending chills down the neck of all that were watching. "What now?", asked Gingerale. The Doctor grabbing his opera glasses and saying very cleverily. "Holy shit Springsteen hit one over the wall!" And walked away. "Ravens up Blood hounds down", came the familiar alcoholic voice of Sparky on the public address. The men cheered and the ladies laughed. "We're in for a real swinger", Sparky muttered through the crowd the and the alcohol.
Juno in the upper deck watching the worn and ragged cowboy roll smoke after smoke said to Super Nova, "I don't want to move to fast but that cowboy keeps on giving me the eye." Turning with the delicacy of a dancer and the curves of an adult movie star Super Nova said, "The cowboy with the texas accent talking up every woman with sexual intentions?" "Yes yes you know the one I mean", Juno returned. "Yeah he's a real cowboy", Super Nova said. "I think I've seen him in the movies", Juno remarked. "Why don't you make a move I know it's not football but try a pass. You never know you might make it to first base", Nova said in all her experience with men and baseball.
Juno pulled her compact mirror and powdered her nose, fixed her hair and was about to make her move before Nova stopped her. "Wait a minute dear", Nova said and loosened Juno's top most button showing some separation. "Now you're ready for some pitches", Nova sudgested. Juno winked pulled her hair and walked to the cowboy. "Hey darlin'," the cowboy winked. "I saw you looking my way", Juno said sipping her white wine. "I was darlin couldnt' help myself but a lookin' at a lass as beautiful as you." Juno turned on her heel's and said, "I couldn't help but coming over to talk to you lookin' the way you do. Could I get your name?" "The name's Marlboro not like the faggit but like the man.", Marlboro said tipping his hat.
"Wow I'm a little tongue tied, i'm not so sure what to say.", Juno said. "Don't be nerveous lass happens to me all the time. Seems I have this magnetism towards the opposite sex.", Marlboro the man said. "Xcuse me Marlboro but if you don't mind me asking but what does a man as you do for a living?", Juno asked. "Well lass I play a little guitar in a rock 'n roll band called Molly's Garage.", Marlboro told. "Wow you're a musician?", Juno asked. "Some would call it that. I call it livin. Makes me a dime and keeps me on the road.", Marlboro said. "Well what kind of guitar do you play?", Juno asked mesmerized by the cowboys pressence. "I play an old Strato, flat black and from highway one. Does the job and the doesn't scare the ladies.", Marlboro said.
"Well you mean it doesn't scare the ladies 'cause you're just so good lookin they don't care what you play.", Juno sudgested. "Ah lass you got me to blushin. You're real sweet you know. Like those apple blossoms down in Tenessee. Sweet and pretty. But shit they don't last to long.... You stickin around?" Marlboro asked. "Well I don't know.......you ever been to Sydney? Up in Nova Scotia in the highlands. I met this guy Jimmy. Anyway we was livin together dreamin of, of startin a family and buildin us a nice home. He got drafted to army. That was 8 years now haven't heard or seen him since. I got intentions of going back I got lots of intentions.", Juno said.
"Well shit honey I ain't ever been to Scotia been over seas though some them europeans dig the rock 'n roll of the USA.", Marlboro said. "Think of it what you will it ain't no matter I've got me to thinking Jimmy's not coming back. You know he played a little he played a lot plus he played a little guitar. Wasn't in no rock roll band though. Used to get me to singing. Singin old country tunes.", Juno said. "Shit you got a voice?", Marlboro asked. "Well I've got the blues and a little country in me. Grandma used to sing gospel. It's in my blood.", Juno delivered.
The blood hounds pitcher Trey Anns threw a knuckle over home striking out Allman Phish leaving runners on first and third to end the inning. Sparky called the inning almost drunk over. "Top of the herd", Sparky mumbled nursing the mic and his drink. "That brings the score dead even tat nothing nothing and Harlem back up for some trows.", Sparky announced through the third and third of his pint.
The deja view of Sparky's voice brought the readers attention back to the game. Harlem still in his zone walked to the mound un-nerved by the zombies gazing behind the home run wall. White for the Hounds warmed his bat with some swings. Harlem warmed his arm with some mock throws to Young the cathcher.
Young had promise. Promise of going to the bigs. Young was young and talented. Among the crowd were scouts, scouts to the city of lights that put pressure on the young catcher. Pressure he could feel his fate was in his glove and Harlems pitches.
Harlem grooved the ball in his glove over and over. Looking for that perfect feel the perfect moment. He knew the pressure was on. Trying to calm Young and slow the pace without anybody knowing. He pulled his gloved and wiped his brow. Put his glove back on and threw a grounder. Young bobled and harnessed the ball pulling his cathcer's mask and eyeing Harlem.
Young called time and Robin Williams the home plate ump gave him time. Young jogged to the mound. "Watcha pitchin?", Young asked. "Shit i'm pitchin' shit", Harlem retplied. "What the hell for?", Young asked. "This a big game.", Harlem replied. Young turned to second and then to the crowd. "You listen to me a you listen good. Forget about them there scouts the real game's between the lines of the diamond. That other stuff don't mean shit. Use your glove 'cause the pitches are coming." Harlem replied.
Young deliverd the ball back to Harlem the way a catcher does who's a little nerved, young, cocky and unlikely to admit mistakes. Young pulled his catchers mask and jogged back to home plate. Cool and unerved Harlem wizzed the ball to Young's mit before White could decide to swing and Williams called it, "STIKE!".
Drops of rain began falling on the diamond. Harlem took another pictch outisde and White swung. The ball popped high above the home plate praying for foul. Young ditched his mask and went for the ball. The rain falling and the ball circling in the lights and falling for the stands. Young leaned over the wall and led his glove to ball. Between the crowd and the rain the ball fell favor to Young's glove putting White back in dug out. "Nice catch darlin',” the woman who made room for the play and Young’s move applauded. Young looked to see the woman’s face and sitting beside her was big city scout. Speechless Young tossed the ball to Williams the home plate ump who called time.
The teams manager’s, Doyle for The Blood Hound’s and Heart for the Raven’s met with the game officials who agreed to delay the game due to rain. The author a little worried the fans might leave before the game is over called the attention back to the tragic moth’s who enjoyed the spotlight and doubled in size as no one noticed. Unaware of his own place in the game, the author took some time to recollect his thoughts on the characters. Their own identities and affairs now haunting and confusing to me in wake a dream must to my realization of place a purpose.
The man with worn blue sun glasses now running from the truth or some idea of law stood at the top of the crowd pearing down on all the thoughts thus written making contiplations and perplexing his own identification in the game as the rain delayed and the moths portrayed a little paranoia because in the essence of the game they have no significance other to delay and entertain the author because they have no voice and limited character traits requiring thought and evolved substance.
Sparky enjoyed some time with his bottle as the crowd made noises that crowd’s make during a rain delay. Buddy Holliday the organ player as I remember entertained with some bouts with the organ while Sparky called the score and stats between sips. The man in worn blue sunglasses called me for some attention and character depth. Either he's from the past or the future he does not know but his time is somewhere else. The metallic blue shades from another time brought mystery and intrigue to the wanted figure who obviously has some cosmic connection to Super Nova and the moths. The moths continued to entertain me and the readers as the rain fell some times hard some times soft on the green, green grass. The lights barely cascading their shadow's on the diamond.
The author worried about the ratings of the game, ratings and reader interest bering the most important aspect of entertainment decided to get the game back on. The umpire, the Wizard of Oz cancelled the game by accident waking Sparky a little. Who was about to end the game. The umpire Alice in Wonderland corrected the Wizard of Oz who ended the rain delay and called the players back to the field.
Harlem made his way to the mound the grass still a little wet from the rain. The lights shinning brightly on the diamond. Harlem warmed his arm with some throws to Young. Harlem could see Young loosened up a little maybe it was the rain delay. Maybe he got head from one of his throws. "Game on the", the Home plate ump called"
Harlem threw a spit ball passed home plate. No one saw but the pitch was good as Robin Williams called STRIKE. The buzz in the crowd started again as the rain quieted and the umbrellas were replace with pop corn and cigarrettes. "POP CORN, CANDY, CIGARETTES", the vendor chanted. Buddy laid some tasty organ vibes and the crowd responded by cheering the Ravens through the bottom of the third. Sparky called the score at nothin', nothin' and sipped on his second pint as this was a a longer game for Sparky and the rest of the participants although we all came prepared. The author took a break to ponder the ideas of the park and visit the moths firsthand to aleaveate his fear of fear but to keep the suspense the author promises not to mention about the moth known as Mothra.
"Let's go Harlem." Gingerale called who is now feeling better and back in the game. The Slash the leading home run getter in the league and a major big city prospect came to the mound. Harlem made no eye contact as Slash motioned for some pitches. To keep the back bencher's warm and the scouts nervous a war ensued a home plate as Harlem pictched and Slash swung. The count now full. Harlem knew he had one picth left. The crowd silent and on the edge of their seats waited and waited.
Harlem gave a nod turned a threw his fast ball in the middle of the strike zone. The Slash knew it was coming and slugged. The ball made deadly contact sending the audience eyes to center field and the home run wall. The ball hung and flew for seconds that took minutes. Harlem's eyes never left the glove of Young as the ball challenged it's destination. Ruth the center fielder chased the ball to the Wall jumping to make the big play. The ball left the park and brought The Slash home. Harlem watched The Slash touch every base of the Diamond he was pitching in the middle of.
Sparky took a big shot from his second pint Hailed Mary and called the score one, to one for the Blood Hounds. The crowed hushed over the big swing of The Slash. The score operator who we'll name Paws fixed the score to one nothing for the blood hounds in the top of the third.
Gingerale light on her feet fixed herself and checked her look in the mirror she was concealing in her purse. "Are you feeling better?" Aliace asked. "Yes just a touch.", said Gingerale. Gingerale looked to Mr. Zimmerman "thank you sir but contrary to the doctor's orders what I saw was very real." "Obviousley the cat, the hat and the ace of spades has spelled you. The shadow you saw you are facing are very real Ms, Ms. I didn't get your name Miss.", said Zimmerman. "Why my name my name is Gingerale.", said Gingerale. "Gingerale of the starlit county?", asked Zimmerman. "Why yes Mr. Zimmerman that is my name and place." said Gingerale. "Ginerale friend of Miss Carroll. Miss Gingerle now is not the time for your tears. What you saw was very real. In the CourtRoom of Honor the judge will pound his gavel and the deeds and missdeeds of the trial on earth will be remembered in wake and death. And you who philosophize, disgrace and critizize all fears will see the truth when none other can or see.", repented Mr. Zimmerman.
"Truth be know the way I feel tonight anything could happen. The doctor's pills and paper flowers were obviously a metaphor of some and whether he was a real doctor or not I do not know as he did leave before providing that evidence. You being the poet and as you say the cat, the hat and the ace of spades have spelled me. What I saw was very real and beyond the comprehention of most men and women. I feel the love of a stranger and perhaps I will never come to realize that strange bond I have wilh the spectre I thought I may have seen." revealed Ginerale of the starlit county and friend of Miss Caroll. "If you see her say hello to Miss Carroll". said Zimmerman with a tip of his hat and entered the motley of colors within the crowd. .
"Aliace are will still at the game?" Gingerale asked Aliace who we know is Aliace. "Well yes Gingerale we are still at the game.", Aliace responded. "And the Auto Carrage. The lighs are still off?", asked Gingerale. "Why yes Gingerale I turned them off at the start of the game.", Aliace returned. Gingerale standing up asked, "And the inning what inning are we in?" Aliace turned to the scoreboard and counted. "The third and the game is tied 1 to 1."
"After meeting Mr. Zimmerman and the the Doctor things seem a little different. Like when you put on a pair of sunglasses and the lighting tints but everything is as it were but the tint has changed. We must make our way back to our seats.", Gingerale said as Aliace repositioned her sunglasses and agreed.
"Well shit honey feels like there was an earthquake or something what with all that game delay rain and you walking my way", Marlboro said. "You aint sore about the size of my figure and trying to cover in up with some fancy southern talk is you.", asked Juno. "Naw shit honey you the best sight these sore eyes have seen in days.", Marlboro returned. They was all about dancing to the rock 'n roll up and down the floor knocking people and their drinks. Marlboro didn't care he was a cowboy on a mission and Juno was lost in the daze of the cowboy's gaze all the while Jimmy was in a far away place doing far away things. If he was even still breathing while his love was dancing. (Poor Jimmy, wherever you may be). Nova watched the masterpiece unfold.
"Well shit honey you want to go the back seat of my car. No ones gonna miss us. I just want to sneak a peek.", Marlboro sudgested. "Take a peek a what exactly", Juno paused. "Why that figure of yours. I want to see beneath those clothes.", Marlboro delivered putting his hand on Juno's behind. "You won't be sneeking a peak at nothin'", Juno blushd pushing the cowboy away. "Ah shit honey just playin' the way we southern boys do. Aint meanin' no harm.", Marlboro teased.
A blond haired Dolly walked in the room glaring at Marlboro. "You dancin' with some hussy?", Dolly retorted. "You got a wife?", Juno asked. "No she's my back up singer.", Marlboro said in a lot hash and hoopla. "You calling me a back up singer? I own that band!", Dolly let loose. "And whose this hussy your dancin' around with", Dolly let loose again. "Hussy? Who you callin' hussy we was just a dancin' ", Juno replied.
"Dancin'! Is that was he calls it? We've been dancin' for fifteen years and Marlboro calls it dancin'." "I bet he said those words and told you he's in some rock and roll band. We've been livin' in a trailer down by the river barely paying and playin the blues. Dolly let loose again. "Well he did mention a little rockin and rollin and something 'bout the back seat of his car.", Juno in full bloom delivered. "The back seat of his car. He ain't even payin' the bills. That's the back seat of my car.", Dolly let loose again.
Dolly walked over to Marlboro holding the keys to the 57 ThunderCat snatched them and walked away. In her parting shot as she left the room said. "Don't bother comin' home to momma. I've sold the trailer and found a real guitarist. We're movin' to Nashville to cut a record wish Low Dog Music." Marlboro stumbled not sure what to say and fumbled the words. "What about my guitar?". "Sold that too. You've got nothin' Marlboro, nothin'.", Dolly's words echoed as she disappeared in her safeway cart.
Marlboro turned lit a cigarette sippeed his drink and looked at Juno with a tear in his eye. "Well I guess you know the story now darlin'." "Shit I ain't got nothin' left 'cept the shirt on my back and the drink in my hand.", Marlboro said half guessin' half beggin'. Juno put a dime in the juke box a picked some good American Rock and Roll of an artist left nameless who still lives to this day and put the Rock in the Roll. Walking over to Marlboro who turned to see the smile of an angel. "You still feel like dancin' Marlobro?", Juno asked.
Marlboro looked up tip his hat and said. "You damn right I feel like dancin' ", half smiling half choking back the tears. "You know you're one hell of a momma." Marlboro said pulling Juno tighter. "You ain't so bad yourself", Juno returned with a wink.
Back on the diamond Harlem was in a suicide squeeze with runner's in the corners and two outs. "How is your fevour now", Aliace asked Gingerale. "Well to be honest i'm a still a little light headed. I'm still not so sure if what I saw was real, or imagined. Do you smell cigarette smoke?" Gingerale delivered. Aliace looked around sniffing. "Now that you mention it I do smell a little tobacco smoke.", Juno said. A shadowy figure 5 rows back was blowing smoke rings through the air. "Must be the gentlemen 5 rows back.", Gingerale delivered. At which Aliace turned to look. "What gentlemen 5 rows back", Aliace aseked. Gingerale turned to see the shadowy figure gone. "I could have sworn I saw a gentlemen smoking 5 rows back.", Gingerale pleaded.
"Remember what the doctor said?", Aliace asked. "Yes I do remember. I'm sure I saw something on the diamond and five rows back. What I saw was very real." Gingerale pleaded desperatly for her sanity in the smoke rings of her mind and the diamond. As the words of the poet came back. The ace of spades has spelled her in smoke rings above the diamond of the game everyone was watching but not seeing the things she believed were real.
Wondering about my own sanity in the moment i'm pondering over the thoughts of poor Gingerale. Me being the one who drops in from time to time and let you in on the secrets of my mind. If what she saw was a manor of my own imagination now playing on the strings of sanity in her mind. If a shadow you are seeing that you are facing in not very real to anybody but you. Are you indeed looking at reality as everyone one sees it. Probably not but that happen's to me every day. I'm wondering if Gingerale has contracted a maligned sense of self through the thoughts I placed in her head or the thoughts she placed in mine.
I got the idea that all dreams came from Hollywood. I wonder if Gingerale has been to Hollywood or even close to it. If she of the starlit county had dreams of making it big in the city of lights. To be one of those screen actor's the West seems to call. Remembering what the Doctor said, I am putting those ideas to rest and trying to focus on what's real. Without harming the character's particularly Gingerale. I am hoping they will discard the ideas of my mind and focus on their lives and what is real to them.
The sun was down and the lights were shinning on the diamond. The crowd was growing increasingly more comfortable with themselves and more anxious about the game. The Raven's were down to the visiting Blood Hounds by one run. Nick Minage came to bat for the Raven's in the bottom of the third, bunted and finally made it to first base. Before anybody could take a second glance Nick Minage stole second base.
Letting Nick Minage do his thing and the batter's do there's I did a little crowd surfing. Caught in a black and white dream before I could focus on the haze of the motley of the crowd I saw a black and white picture of the girl from Eric's Trip. The picture flashed and disapeared before I could interpret the sepia tone of life lived long before I thought I was alive.
Dream therapy and thought separation is a form of meditation I have experimented with. Whether the experience leaves me with a higher state of consciousness, confusion or insight I haven't decided. The state between consciencenous and sleep leaves me to believe their is a naked reality in dreams I am attempting to understand and live beyond the fear of the unknown.
Waking myself with a tap on my shoulder from the cat from wonderland to continue the game of the players on the diamond and the lives who watch them.
The crowd surfing now making me psychotic I turned to the diamond. Nick Minage was leading toward third Orange Glass at bat. White the Blood Hounds pitcher looking very intent and angry threw to second forcing Nick Minage back on the safety of second.
Sparky took a sip from his flask mutted the mic and swore. "When polictics get involved in the game it all goes to hell", Sparky muttered. Unmutted the mic and remained in character. Orange Glass at bat that 2 outs for the blood hounds in dire need of a run.
Buddy the organ player laid some beats of the pipe organ trying to get the crowd in to the game and the batter at the plate. The crowd rustled through the pop corn, yesterday's news and their drinks. Time being unimportant and the game in focus. We put some pressure on the diamond and the players in light. Needing a big play Orange Glass looked to the heaven's and swung like and elevator going to hell, kicking the ball out of the park before anyone in the stands could even blink.
Sparky never taking his eyes off the play swore without muting the mic bringing the self conscious fans back to reality and the fact that the Home town Raven's took the lead as Nick Minag swaggered home with Orange Glass following closely behind. Sparky through the drink and the hit called the score at 3 to 1 for the Home Team.
Feeling a little positive about the the hit and the score. And being able to remain anonymous the man in blue sunglasses checked the clock rolled a smoke and pondered. Needing a catch before he could light the cigarette sorted through the crowd and the the memories dancing from home plate to the wall and beyond. Caught a glimpse of realism adjusted the shades and lit the smoke.
Thinking back and looking out behind the wall. The BlueSunglasses scratched by life and the character wearing them hid the identity of the man once anonymous to the reader. Now feeling like coming out from the shade lit another smoke and stared the author straight in the eyes. Remembering his life I paused to remember and attempted to understand where he came from to end up in this game and understand where he wished to go. The people are free to come and go from the park. Where they go beyond the walls of the park I am not sure.
The man in BlueSunGlasses is a bit of an enigma and his purpose within this story is yet to be determined.
My name is Mountain. I have seen things in my life I can barely understand. I have understanding of things I barely know. I am a folk singer and poet and have read stories covered by the government. Stories held against our will for the sake of protectionist politicians and Generals.
I was born in 1959 and made my living out of tale and song. Now the tale I'm about to tell you is like taking a torn photograph in millions of shades that I will try to put together so you may be better able to understand what happens to hero's and heroins.
I've experimented with chemicals and my mind is not the same it once was. I have resisted the law and temptation and have paid my price. I have seeen the fire dance and the stars form from plains far gone and forlorn. I have danced with strippers at the break of dawn and saw god touch the tide with his eyes. My visions are my own and hold them close to my soul. My heart still yearns for love and touch of a human hand once held by me. In goddess, maiden or ghost form.
I exist only in the songs I sing and the world's I poetically dream off the cliffs of the etheral reach. You choose to listen, you choose to laugh like the lady singing, rocking soulfully in my breath. I have sang songs to the stars and angels above but the tale I'm about to tell you brings me closer to solace than any other poetical form I have intended to reach.
In the height of the cold war there were soldiers, saints and sinners. Propoganda fillled the tv news and the houses of parliment. People understood what they were told and forgot what they understood. The Pet Shop boys blaired through the radio and Cyndi sang Time after Time. The goonies were good enough and Ralph kept it all under his hat.
The lost palace of Hollywood echoed with the laughs of stars to be and poets of the past left rhyme and memory on the bathroom stalls of Hollywood. I would walk in the halls of the lost palace of Hollywood and listen to the stories of travellers, songsters and pranksters. Nothing was real and real was nothing.
Paranoia rocked modern media and man continued to pray to the neon gods submerged in comercial art. Pop and road signs propelled the underground and man mowed his lawn under the eyes of the government, FBI and propoganda.
The lost palace of Hollywood was the exception. Bordering on found and lost the poets would pray and the strippers would dance. Cocaine was shipped and LSD zipped in plastic bottles. The stage would open up and the songs of altered universes echoed the halls in dry, wet reverb. Dali painted and the servants landed, Area 51 was a city of lights beyond the eyes of man and guarded by the secrets and lies of the Dead Kenedy.
One lonely night taking refuge in Lost Hotel Of Hollywood for 5 cents and a vile of oil a visit. I lay upright in the lounge flipping through chanel 69 I saw the kid on ESP shooting stars through hoops with magic chamberlaine and Jimmy Johnson. He wore the 13 for luck and truth and had the eyes of a hero lost in the game, lost in the game shooting for his name and the game of rythym and rebound. Time was his essence although not clear as the game he played. The shot clock counted time and again as rythym fell through his hand his mind and challenge.
Hello can I get a drink of scotch. I've been gone long and lost through the roads of my mind. The voice called me here for reason I have yet to know. I turned to see a young woman dressed in clad and clash of the violence that nearly over took her. I paid no mind and returned to my discipline. The game changed and the news overtook the set. The hero gone. The president of the United World addressed the people that he thought were listening and those that had no answers to his visions and words. The world is in crisis.
Another failed roaming incident of route 49 left weather balloons crashing to the sky and reporters were scrambling for their piece of the incident. No one knew, no one knew. Another failed mission. Mission of what. Peace waiting trials and inocence. This was a cold war and everbody almost knew what that ment. Nobody knows, the news came from no where.
This was getting no where and no where is understood. Somewhere people understand and raise their fist in chaos and revolt. No quiet revolutions resound in the continent as the searchers watched and ended fires that don't even exist. All but everyone on high alert for perplexities and Generals garned in feathers and flags.
The woman in clad and clash spoke but as she spoke I heard the singing of charms and a bell between chaos and love. Is this love, is this love. Tell me through the chamber of the calling bust of palas where is this love. The woman in clad and clash spoke beyond the madness of the T.V. news. Perplexed by her vows I turned stunned by her beauty, her angelic gyspsy garb.
Touching her face, who could be held responsible. For the life of me where in the vows of all wisdom had she walked to sing so softly in the halls on the lost palace of hollywood where the last king of dreams shattered his soul to the floor climbed to heaven odered another and wondered what he had done that for. Counting crows and raven's and hells lost and locked and lonely door.
Screaming bust of pallas echoing in the evermore ravaged loved and lost on the lonely moment of her lips. I barely opened my lips to turn and talk to the woman in clad and clash and she was gone. Gone where I almost understood the question before it was unaswered. In my mind I see the things change the woman gone I knew her. I know her. From where is the question I tempted to ask but not follow the woman or angel or spirit, gone.
I stood and looked around all was real the T.V. on high alert the room empty but the wax maiden on the wall guiding the ships landing to world's lost or found. I turned headed for my hall and the number 9. Room number 9 was the message I forgot to mention and understand. The way we traveller's leave possesion and pride behind for others to find and interpret in their minds.
I walked through the halls of numbered doors searching for the nine. Written in Venus' hand. The purple violet afterglow of all her thoughts. The calling the mentioning the answers I had written and wanted to tell. Venus has seen the sea of the calling reach the memories that entertained. The visons that spoke through glass and mirror. The looking glass girl will seal your soul, Take you through virgin clouds open again and again. As the tide raged and the moon pulled I found number nine and turned the door.
Light and afterglow enchanted my eyes like the way she understood before. Barely talking mostly undressed she pressed my lips and fastened the door. Closed shut in together she whispered to my soul answering my heart. I held her cold in my breath untied her guilt and let her dress fall naked to the floor. Moving and breathing on the floor and moons last dying light shown through the stain of the window.
She wanted more. I asked her to let go. To let me and understand the way it seems only in dreams these thoughts and memories were touched and allowed to enter and untouched and remembered the way the river runs in the sand again and again venus in my vein and my vein in venus. She called my name as once I heard, understood and all stopped but the hourglass lamp she let live beside her bed.
The time is coming the knowers are watching and the man is learning let him live the dreams he dreams to be and be the thing he knows he is. Venus spoke through tongues I understood. The world is changing and time can be be a vampire to those unprotected by the dreams they dream to be. Number 9 was shooting memory and thoughts to be. 1984 was the year and yesterdays understanding in tomorows knowing.
I awoke in my room alone staring up at all the stars. I could come down to you and stop all the stalls. But i'm alone and she is thinking. The name came to me from the god mars atop of all the cities in her galaxy far away. Hell's Kitten was singing again. The cold war calling her, the loner listening.
I awoke fresh from a dream like daisy's singing in a mid summer dream. Vegas dreams and trying not to stall I left my room and headed down the hall. The same channel stuck in 69 reporting on all the days news old and dead. The moon gone the sun waking the morning in ever after exstasy. To early to drink I took my pipe and walked out the double door to stare sunlight in the eyes. I smoke the tobacco of Indian leaf and reflected. 1984 the loner shooting for his game and Hell's Kitten singing once more.
To me it came in a dream that the lady in clad and clash was Hell's Kitten searching for answers in the ever more. Wondering about the lost cause. The cold war, the cold war the world watched with intent as more weapons were raised to the stars out of fear and paranoia. The story dead but the news kept coming and the voices kept raising the concerns of the ground.
Hiding underground holding secrets of the dead kennedy. Now the generals moving fear of weapons no one could see but the nuclear wind the t.v. shot the dead and dylan's rest. Yesterday's news came to me landing beside me the newspaper with headline news. Other than the weapons of the politics the loner was winning, playing for the Huskies of Toronto. Could not be stopped playing effortlessly in his game the game he knew and loved.
Lately married of woman who left the world before her time in crash fately rushed in ambulance to the emergency while the Loner played his game in a city south of the crash. He did not know his choice to undertand came later as the six o'clock news reported delicately of the face of his angel still in his heart yet to know.
The twins were born 5 years prior as the Huskies erected the banner of the world championship tournament and every year after. Toronto Rainbow the boy and Apple River the girl. His children their children born in the cold war and his wife the reporter now gone after the accident.
To understand now what was not heard then is not possible. The words the Loner's wife submerged on the continent were those of truth. Naked truth in a time of deception. She wrote the stories of truth and honor beyond the fear of the cold.
I turned and walked to the lounge to see the freak and ghouls of the lost palace. They were awake from the dreams. There long waking dreams left in their rooms to contimplate and experiment with the known and the unknown.
There was speaking above the telivision still caught on the news. The loner now probably aware of the incident. The accident of his now lost love. His decision was his own and soon to make. The Huskies of Toronto were in the hunt for another banner. Another championship beyond the maker's of the news and politics we all digested. More bombs and no answers. Shaking policticians hiding behind the iron curtain.
In the corner was the game the freaks played from time to time. To exit from reality and chase ghost through color mazes and eat the pills to fight the fear of the dead. The high score still unbeaten. Created by the matrix the wizard of the dot matrix.
I played my game and digested my fear of the future the past unknown and made my name in the high score. 1984 was my sign. The world I felt behind in the high score well below the matrix was mine 1984. The world watching. The waiting to be told.
Chapter 8 4>
I felt a tap on my left shoulder turned and saw her smile. Luckey played she always played. Look she said as I turned. The loner is playing again. All eyes on the big screen. Watching his shots carry away the attention of the politics the latest news of waiting peace. A truce from both sides a forgiveness in a hand shake a tear both sides to proud to offer up the peace and silence the people wanted.
Still reading the paranormal she asked. Yes with a smile I said. Somethings never change she offered with a grin. Fear gets you nowhere. Fear gets you nowhere. She ordered a coffee and we sat to watch and converse of time gone and yet to come.
I've been travelling. I've been watching. Yes she said. The rider once stood in the window and watched day and night for the sign of the maiden. The peace she'd bring. Traveling yes travelling through mars and the cosmos she said. She has no fear of the void no fear of the beyond. Morrison, Kerouac they were all her skill. She looked me in the eyes deep blues of the mountain side beyond the parralel to the sea where she swims naked, naked to the world.
Things haven't changed much she offered. I looked around and nodded. The matrix, apollo, the leaf, lightning and the others still listening watching resting in the lost palace. Aphrodeities and the others gods and goddess offering up answers for the the unanswered.
She took my hand and my conscience. I still love you. Things have not changed I answered. The heat of the cold rising the fist of the loner elevating another victory another victory for the loner and the huskies his hair shadowing his figure his champion demeanor he had to know.
I love you too I answered. Things have not changed she echoed. Deep in those eyes I travel to places known by her and only her. I've come for a short stay she echoed. I have places in mind and opportunity to risk.
The game for the moment is won and the travellers plan to rejoice in song and pow wow. Appolo setting the cosmos. Luckey took me by the hand and outside we walked for a smoke. After breath and tobacco we watched the sun slowly fall to night and walked inside. Appolo was ready for his performance instruments of foreign shores set the stage. String, wind and drum filled the air. Luckey drank her white, white wine. Thoughts of Hell's Kitten came to me in brain and science.
The players played, lightning, appolo and green leaf played effortlessly through night. The traveller's drank their cocktails and cocaine while I thought watched and listened. The sound was surreal and full of meaning. Meaning to be interpreted through sullen thoughts. The colors shown in green red and blue and echoed through the halls. Luckey took me by the hand and led to me to the mic.
sullen thoughts intricated and mad
peaceful dreams and extasy
the lies of the news
not gettig through to you
know your mind and believe the truth
in mind I know all of you
touched me with a smile
green red and blue
time for dance
time for song
the drums echoed
our choice is ours
beyond the cloud
beyond the confusion
is the solution
I stepped off the stage less than noticed knowing I said my things to those who might listen, The freedom of choice echoes in truth and laughter. The thoughts of the the loner still on my mind his lost love, His lost love stained on his side. What would his choice be in the time was his to make His heart on his sleeve and Hell's Kitten singing pop the believers sought to see.
Chapter 10 4>
Luckey took me by the hand and led me to her van. We talked mostly subconscioulsly but understanding completly. The LSD elevated the moment as we listened to the stars sing and the moon dance once again lightly we dreamed but did not sleep. Eating cheeries and cocaine no one knew or could see the things we've seen.
Her bed called and the wind knew we are one in our essence lost in mind and thought. She turned on the radio and Gypsy blew my mind looking in her eyes as I always did. The time no one knew no one knows. Thunder only happen's when it's raining, Player's only love you when they're playing.
The moon pulled and the moment listened. She always had a way of feeling the same. After time so much time. We have a way of understanding without even speaking she could read my thoughts and I read her mind the way she looked. She took me by the hand as the glow of the dashboard lights lit the room and the pink and blue of the stars on her moon.
The van rocked and the radio listened. She touched and I heard. She breathed and I moved gently up and down around beneath her dress of hair. Nothing was the moment and she touched in private the way she breathed and concentrated on the drip of memory. Explosions and contemplations of reality touched her faced and explored her thoughts. One we are, again and again. Comtemplating orgasmic energy taking her everything.
She stopped and looked me in the eyes. As though I was hiding something. I opened and looked to her and stopped. Maybe we're not the same maybe to much time had taken our connections. She sat up naked and I naked wtih nothing to say.
There was a knock at the door on her van. She moved for her clothes as I watched her naked dressing and pulsing body move hidden in the dark of the van only the lights of the dash lighting her there and here. I lit a smoke and she opened the door.
A figure moved in the door forcefully. I am KGB don't move and I will tell you what your need to know. The gun pointed squarely in her eyes Luckey backed away slowly and I reaching for my clothes. Do not move or she gets it. I put my clothes down and looked her in the eyes. I am Super Nova and I will tell you of the Home you will never see. A cold wind blew through the open windows and touched my skin. Luckey didn't move and Nova moved closer. The winter is going to hit and all lies will be lost. My government knows your secrets and the names you are writing.
Luckey backed off and Nova moved closer. Your government is designing a weapon. A weapon of mass destruction. One that will separate the atoms and send them vibrating back to space back to nothing back to black hole where it all ended. My name is Mountain. I know your name and your friend. You need my help but it will come at price. I do not come for nothing.
Luckey did nothing staring at Super Nova trying to understand her calling. Nova looked out the door and nodded. A black car with no marking no plates turned in the darkness. What do we do now Luckey thought and almost asked. You listen to me Nova answered. We move to Alaska where the government is developing. You drive, Nova motioned to Luckey as she headed for shot gun. I motioned for my clothes. You move again and your friend will die. I sat back covered in the darkness, naked.
Luckey started her van. The chamber candescent with dash lights and the barrel of Nova's gun. Time progressed and moved as Luckey drove and Nova directed. The moment was tense as George Micheal on coke. But I have faith in Luckey's direction. This Super Nova was coming from somewhere. She knew me and she knew Luckey. Although stunning in her appearance I had no recollection or prior memory of an encounter of which I have had many. The days passed only stopping for petrole gas. I was still naked but Luckey was by now mostly dressed as she had to pay for the fuel from her own cash.
Nova held the gun and the decisions. I lay there unpermited to move thinking back to Luckey's moment and the tattoo on her ass. The gypsy movements she made to songs unwritten and words never spoken. Years since I've seen her and now hostage to Super Nova who may be speaking the truth or more lies of the cold she spoke in accent, Russian maybe.
How much more fucking driving do you expect me to do? I lifted my head from sleep to hear Luckey and Nova bitching. I hold the gun you drive. How bout I hold the damn gun and you drive and pay for friggin petro. Who's petro? You use that word again and I swear to Blue Rodeo I'm taking the ditch. Blue Rodeo? The ditch? Yeah the ditch. What the ditch?
Uh ladies I hate to interupt but I believe we are being followed. Luckey adjusted her rear view and Nova turned. Who is it? I see nothing.
It's a trans am with southern plates. You drive, pretend and see nothing. They're gaining on us. Mountain said adjusting himself where no one could see. Luckey adjusted her rear view and could see the lights gaining. Nova now visibily nervous motioned Luckey to hit the gas. Luckey looked me in the eye. I waited as she nailed the brakes. I went for Nova trying to sub due her without doing any harm. We wrestled on the ground. Briskly reaching on rolling for control of the weapon on the front seat and in to the back on the van. She touched me and I touched her. Reaching for control of the shaft.
Mountain she called. Nova was her name. I flashed back to a tour in the Afgani back country in the Balkans and Yugosloavia. I saw a girl, a girl with tears in her eyes. I came back to unscathed by the flash. Nova now firmly on top with the barrel pointed on my frontal lobe.
You know me. Nova whispered in the incandescent light. And I know you I remembered her now a little more robust and figured than the girl I remember. Luckey smoking turned and mentioned you finished, breathing a little more easily. We now have more company motioning outside.
A man in a hat dressed in black armed with pride and and a weapon followed by a woman in boots. Boots made for walking, Diamond she called and the Man turned and lit a smoke. Kathleen he called, we are alive! Where the fuck are we she answered. Mountain now fully aware of who is control yelled, somewhere in Witchita.
Nova now in control of the weapon montioned Mountain back to the bed. Fully naked Mountain retreated to the comfort of Luckey's furs. Desperately reaching for his clothes to Nova's demands. Put them on and you will die a naked man. Luckey adjusting the mirror looked back in silence, besides I like you better that way. Here comes company Luckey sudgested to Nova. Let them come she replied.
The man in the hat we know as Diamond came to the window and gently knocked. Luckey with a lit smoke rolled down the window in a manner sudgesting contemplation and intent to interest. Where are we and who are you Diamond said examining the situation. From the darkness of the van came a voice of a murmur, Witchita, Luckey, Nova and Mountain. Nova turned to Mountain implying to keep his mouth shut.
And you are? Nova asked with the gun between her legs. The name is Diamond, Diamond Young from Quebec. And the woman? The woman now in Nova's window. Yelled Kathleen and you are? Nova quietly rolled down the window as Luckey said shit, here we go. Pulled the gun on Kathleen and told her to get in the back.
Now that's no way to treat a lady Diamond replied. You don't know where we came from or what happened. I'm sure there will be time to talk Nova said holding her gaze on Kathleen. Kathleen looked at Diamond with the intent to unload. Diamond motioned to hold. We'll get in Diamond answered. No just the the woman Nova replied cocking the gun.
I'd listene she's already pulled the trigger once Mountain said naked in the darkness. Luckey threw her smoke and winked at Diamond motioning to his parked car with headlights beaming, narrowly missing Mountains body. Kathleen opened the door and entered ever conscience of the dagger in her boot and the cocaine in her stash.
Hands on head and on the bed. Mountain made room for her. Kathleen searching for something solid to sit on looked the Mountain in the eyes, your name is Mountain she said almost asking her or telling her self something, somewhat familiar. She sat tense in the darkness among strangers she swore she knew.
Luckey turned the key and Nova held the gun. Mountain still naked in the sheets and Kathleen looking for something to hold eyed Mountain and he caught her glance. You've seen the other side Mountain whispered in Kathleen's ear. She turned looked Mountain in the face. I haven't seen shit.
For a price we will all see other side, Nova said never taking her eye off the road or Luckey's intentions.
He's following us, Luckey sudjested to strangers in the night moving closer to what Nova only knew. Kathleen glanced out the back window and saw the trans am and Diamonds hat in the shadows.
It will be alright Nova said maybe sleeping or maybe in wake. It will be alright echoed in Mountains intentions pretending to be sleeping listening the knowing, the waiting the truth to be told.
Mountain fully awake and aware listening to the engine moaning out it's one note song. Pretending to be listening and mostly sleeping. The sound of Kathleen's breast and heart and motions in the dark, getting comfortable moving innocently deathly slowly in the shadows.
Kathleen glanced behind to the trans am, trailing the key to her moment, the chance of her taste. Mountain noted the movement and waited. Luckey's eyes on the road fumbled to the radio, teasing the ears of those that would listen static aiming pulling the thoughts closer.
Lost in the dust the stars of the night and the snow falling to the wipers pumping hydrolic liquid lasting in the moment. Some one saying something and no one seems to listen. The clown who is sick does the trick of disaster. The lights in her eyes and the thoughts of those thighs. Mountain clinging to memory of venus and her disaster, tripping delicately through the mind allowing the thoughts to entertain.
The radio tired barely awake entranced the morning news to the sun rising glistening in the magic of the fall. Last nights fall. More weapons, more terror the presidents voice echoing over the rumble of the highway.
Bodies motioning wakefullness stumbled in to the day listening pretending not to notice as the terror attempted to entrance the moment, Mountain still naked studied Kathleen and her intentions.
Nova now fully awake, aware and armed said the cold will come the war will end. Can we get off this fucking channel!? Luckey exclaimed turning the radio station. Aha blaired through the radio speakers Take on Me sudgested. The black the white the media the station always searching for the the reason.
Kathleen backed up barely touching Mountains intentions. The trans am following Kathleen knowing who was driving reached in her boot for her knife and and took Nova by surprise.
Move and your neck is mine she muttered in a breath only someone so strong should sudgest. Drop the weapon and you will live to see tomorow. Nova dropped the weapon in her panic and Kathleen picked up the shaft of the barrel so cold so cold as the war we are fighting.
Mountain fully naked watching the exihibition entertained by the move and Kathleen's b-side, reached for his clothes and cocaine now free to move and examine his ego and and his status.
Someone is going to tell me what the fuck is going on. My name is Mountain I have seen things in this existence that echo in the halls of solitude and sanctuary. You Kathleen are from another void and other time another plain.
Venus knows your name and your calling as she spoke in echoes in our last encounter. You are here now for purpose you of yet to know. Your calling has been echoed in the halls of the Lost Palace of hollywood. Your companion behind rides with us in our time for reasons yet to be understood.
Luckey drives and Nova knows. Her intentions are those of peace and understanding. The trans Am pulled up along side the Van now in Kathleens control. The passengers of ego and understatement priviledged to ride and understand in echoes of time and place to be understood.
The year is 1984 the cold is watching and the Loner is listening. Chaos is his existence now shattered with the loss. Hell's Kittens word's are his to know and of us to listen. 1984? I was I was...we were riding, riding north came the voice of the man in the hat known as Diamond. Driving to the North escaping the madness the invasion.
Long ago came Mountains voice long ago. We listened and you arived in time to meet our destiny. The war is on, the cold comes and the voice of truth to be heard. What of this madness this intention the weapons of mass destruction the government pretends and does nothing. Developing terror carried by the media. Nova has reason for interpretation it is our best interest to listen as she has been sent from far away to carry and deliver the message sacrificing life in honor of her people.
We are heading north to follow the loner and sudgest your welcoming, Kathleen and Diamond. Kathleen holding the weapon looked to Nova. They are hiding, they are holding weapons of destruction the cold is here and the battle goes on. We sit and do nothing the war will never end. We must stop the confusion the destruction. My name is Nova I am KGB. Sent by my government to stop the weapon the weapon of destruction and fear. We must move we must go on. Kathleen sat silent running, running in her mind the past the present and now this, her intentions unknown.
Her name is Kathleen came a voice from the cold, the man in the hat. I am Diamond, Diamond Young. We fought this war and won. The world shattered from where we came from. So you believe came the voice of Mountain. Your time is untouched and moves. Ours is now in peril. I know of you and your intent. The Loner's move is his and Hell's Kittens intentions are ours or his to believe. Ride with us. Live breath this life deliver your mind and the rest will follow. We will ride.
We will ride, we will ride for a price. I hold the weapon and you start talking. Diamond follows in the trans am and any funny shit the blonde chick gets it then we move to Nova. This is bull shit my name is Luckey. Kathleen startled at the response cocked the the gun. And you, you are Mountain. This is bull shit uncocked the gun.
Your memory entertains you Kathleen, Mountain thought but did not speak. Deliver your mind and the rest will follow, Mountain said but did not think. Tell me of this Loner. Luckey turned the key and fired the van for a ride.
The loner plays, he plays with greatness. The game is his and his master. The love lost of his, a reporter of honor and truth through the madness. Dead now in a crash. Speculation of the disaster. Our governments did not know. He plays with truth science his name eched for ever in the Huskies of the North dynasty is his. Two children lately wed of his wife the reporter now buried for reasons unknown.
The media the weapon the lense the finger the thoughs they deliver. Terror strikes the earth and of us to listen. As mass destruction looms and Hell's Kittens words deliver the shatter of truth and breath. The loner is listening delivering a body and existence beyond. Venus sees the void the past the future, the contemplations of man. For us to discover.
Mountains words trailed and echoed in the minds of the travellers. Till all was known. All was known for the time and moment as moments come and end and trance and deliver. And some truth, knowledge, insight is suddgested. The van was cold and quiet. Mountain now un nerved with his coke and clothes. Kathleen still on the barrel, Luckey on the pedal and Nova in the know.
Closer came the radio, closer came the radio. Paranoid, paranoid as the past. The writer in the door way where she stood and watches for him. The news came on the same news as yesterday. Answers for the the forgiven lessons for the unforgiven. Metalic rays of sunlight opening the day. The leader of the free world and this side of the ocean of sorrow, addressed the people. Squaking PA of the the generals moves and the policticians spending. Mountain knowing, Luckey driving.
And what of this Kathleen and the man Diamond. Our time in perril so much to be understood The loner now in Toronto the season ended as the new one enters. The time is his to know and ours to follow the border of man, consciousness, country. Super Nova and her delivery. There will be choice and action. Hell's Kittens words came through the world on alternative channel for listeners of understood searching for insight. She sings and the bells sound.
Van quiet for a time. We have company came Luckey easy on the gas. Mountain turned and saw the highway troopers with lights turning. Fuck take the next exit, Kathleen with the barrel delivered. Slow down I've got the pedal. Luckey eased on the gas and took to the side of the road. A road house in the middle of Witchita.
Troopers lights a blazing blurred by the scene on down the highway. Diamond in the trans am followed Luckey's move and pulled to her side rolled down the window. Luckey smoking had already done the same.
Friends of yours, Diamond smiled? Long story short.....no, flicking the ash of the smoke in a way no one would understood before the hash, the LSD. That for me? Luckey said nothing. Kathleen with the barrel turned to Diamond. I need a fucking drink. Here? You got any better sudgestions. We have no time for drinks attempted Nova. Look i'm sure they've got vodka. At the mention Mountain rose to intercept the conversations and ideas of temptation.
We've been riding for a while and the lady with the gun is thirsty, Luckey delivered turning off the ignition. Mountain looked out the window. Saw the sign Road House 184. Zombies now playing. I've seen the place before and the Zombies are deadly. Queit forty's and a lady for the killing.
Kathleen cocked the gun and smiled. Diamond you thirsty? You know I don't drink while on the job winking. Fuck this noise let's go inside Luckey hinted opening the door to her van. And lock the doors who knows who's hanging around.
The crew emptied from their vehicles and walked to the door. The door man doing his best Swayze smiled at Kathleen who concealed her weapon the way a lady does and smiled at the dirty dancer.
The place was packed with wall eyed red necks and their girls. Mountain felt confident and at home. Nova a little out of place and fully equiped almost tripped over her chest and Swayze's cock of the walk.
Luckey looked Mountain in the eyes as if she had been here before and pulled up her cut offs a little further, showing some cheek and swag. The lady serving drinks bumped in to Diamond as if saying something he wouldn't understand but in Diamonds mind it made sense. The zombies were trancing loud and the traveller's sat at Kathleen's command.
Are we going to get served? Kathleen emptied getting comfortable and fully loaded, but no one knew. Mountain turned to the stage and the Zombies, Astrid in full form lifting the room a little and the hillbillies wallets, Mountain smiled.
The hillbillies now more than thirsty put their eyes on the table and the ladies in their equipment. Is it getting hot in here or is just me Diamond mentioned as five of the mean looking hillbillies came to the table.
The leader and obviously smartest hillbilly put his hand on Kathleen and said I wanna dance pulling her forcefully to her feet. At which Diamond stood starring squarely in the mans chest said she's with me. 'O really the man said as his friends came a lot closer. Yeah hands off Diamond sudgested. Ya' 'mess wit me, ya 'mess wit ma' family as the hillbillies showed off their missing teeth.
Diamond now outnumbered took a swing at hillbillie duke and took some teeth with his right. A little stunned took a step back and gave Diamond a right. Diamond ducked the blow and hillbillie duke landed on the table and the ladies drinks. Before Diamond could impress himself four hillbillies pilled on Diamond and wrestled the man down on the dance floor.
Kathleen pulled the hidden colt 45 from her boot and fired one shot in the air, getting everyone attention. Kathleen now on centre stage called the shots and Diamond to his feet. Let the man go and no one gets hurt. Naw we fine, we fine the hillbillies smiled and headed back to their drinks.
Astrid strummed her chord and the band started like nothing even happened. Kathleen holstered the weapon. Diamond picked himself up off the dance floor gave Kathleen a smile and himself a little shake before returning to the table.
Friends of yours? Diamond said to Mountain. Yeah we go way back, way back to county they used to be a little pretier. I say you and your lady friend impressed more than the band. We're going to need more drinks the lady with the concealed weapon said as Mountain motioned to the bar keep.
Drink after drink and song after song, Kathleen asked Diamond to take a shot. You know I never drink on the job. What's your job again Mr. Diamond. Diamond smiled said nothing but Kathleen new and took another shot of jack while Diamond watched.
The corn whiskey now taking over and the band getting tired. We must move this is taking time Nova shot with vodka and attitude. The lady with the gun looked Nova in the eyes, Who the fuck are you? Kathleen and the whiskey attempted. I'm KGB the war goes on, Nova replied downing another vodka. Luckey in her upmost and sloshed on wine red and white, Yeah you need a card? Luckey sipped and winked at both ladies.
The time is on, taking a line and a dead man's grave. We must leave the chase is ours and the hills are watching. Radio no where and the weapon of Nova's decipline. The west and wall of the east must fall. Hell's Kitten and the words of the loner are fading. The time we waste and the line we walk take the unforsaken. Mountain offered mostly wasted on the traveller's minds.
Four men in black and shades entered the room as Nova slipped to the ladies room while no one noticed save Diamond who took Luckey's key and left the room.
Nova meeting Diamond outside who obviously found another way out sudgested, We must leave NOW. Diamond headed for the trans am and on the only way heard four shots and the music end.
We have to go back Diamond uttered to Nova. Nova fully intoxicated pulled a concealed semi automatic from beneath her garb. I am Nova KGD, tonights the night Nova contemplated through the vodka and her accent.
Walking back to the bar entrance Mr. Soul started playing and the music listened. Fucking cover tunes Diamond heard and new the voice. Kathleen met the Diamond and Nova on the outside as the band got louder and Kathleen lit a slim.
What the fuck is going on Diamond intended. You tell me four men in black and you two head for the exits. Kathleen took a breath and a drag off the slim. Diamond moved to Kathleen I heard shots. You're damn right. They're still twitching on the ground.
What FBI Nova slurred through the vodka. Yeah if FBI bleed green Kathleen taking another drag off the slim. Where the fuck are we I'm almost out of bullets Kathleen breathed cocking the weapon for one more round.
Nova looked inside seeing the half zombie, half being from beyond the heavens. We must leave came Mountain. The challenge mounts and the woods breath. Half numb from the wine and LSD Luckey asked where the fuck her keys went. Diamond reached down and delivered the ring to Luckey.
Who's gonna clean this shit up? Came the voice of the bouncer. Not me Luckey threw opening the door to her van. We got to get the fuck out of here, Kathleen uttered hot after the smoke and the blows. Who's going to drive you've all hit the limit on drinks and zombie waltz, Diamond reminded. Not to mention the highway warm with troopers Diamond started and fucking walking dead kathleen finished.
We travel through the pass and the walking wood to the Mountains. Time will pass the memories of our parting will fade. The Mountains hold solace and peace. The road concealed by the road house will travel deep within the moon. Behind our minds to inner sanctum of peace pass. Mountain said pulling pipe and smoke from his pouch.
Luckey turned the key and green ram listened 449 on the block 6 cylinders and an oil socked engine blew smoke and the travellers minds. Who's coming with me smiling teasing for more reving her engine. The war continues these zombies prove the theories we must travel north through the border Nova attempted, fuck this noise and the Russian. Vodka or not she's nuts, Kathleen delivered.
Nova pulled the semi from behind her back. I am Nova KGB and you Kathleen have one bullet in the barrel. In Russian we have what you say roulette.......care to play with Nova. Kathleen looked at the gun slowly spun and aimed. STOP came Diamonds voice, Nova rides with me we will follow the van through Mountains pass. Kathleen uncocked the gun and lowered wasted and lost she piled in the van to lie down.
Luckey hit the lights and drove round back. Mountain lit the peace pipe to share and the grass road opened to the Mountains. Luckey fumbled for the radio trying to get a signal. Nothing but static.....Not here there is no outside Mountain offerd pulling off the pipe sharing with Luckey. Kathleen quiet, the moon lighting the back of the van the howl of the wolf sent chills down Diamonds back and Kathleen holstered the weapon.
The sober Diamond watched the back of the van moving slowly through the turns ups and downs. The light of the moon shown down through the leaves of the trees. Diamond saw something in the corner of the woods looked again and saw nothing.
I feel the rumbling in the ground. The wind is turning the wild watching, Mountain said Luckey driving. The earth is spinnig slowly spinning came Kathleen's voice wasted on whiskey.
In mind and memory I tranced on the thoughts of the loner and Hell's Kitten's word eched on the mural and memories last paradise. The decision past on the game left. His intentions unknown to the world and his science yet unmastered. Deliver a being free from disease and hunger. War no more were her's. Hell's Kitten's voice was the one the loner followed and believed.
Lost in memory the hills woke to our arival and the witch of the woods now watching our motions and understanding the intentions. Light of the moon and the dashboard glow. Black magic and the woman. Gypsy queen and the underline of the woods. Luckey in trance and halucination of her intentions lit the pipe and the greatfull dead glow of the mushrooms shadow.
The call of the nature pulling her higher shadow and memory of the loss of fear the engine pulling her here and the light of her moon to the left as the van climbed the hill. Luckey lost in the over more reality gone and the lights her only destination.
Mountain pulled the pipe and Luckey listened the engine driving herself. "Let go" came Luckey's voice and Mountain listened. The witch of the woods screamed and Mountain listened. Mountain full of halucination of the mushroom she shared The woods listening and the witch calling. "Lower comes the moon and the night will break." Mountain answered Luckey heard but did not say.
Kathleen wasted on the night fumbled through memory and time. Diamond in the trans am followed the van through the trees and pass. Kathleen would wake he knew. Nova gone on vodka and her mission and Diamond took the semi and hid in beneath the seat. Going through memory and the now Diamond pondered before the invasion the cause of the explosions no one heard of yet. Kathleen and the charger the end at hand driving further pedal to the floor the car in flame, space and time. Now the now and the cold. The war at hand and Mountains peace to the sane. Too much. "Now." Diamond thought and lit a smoke no one could answer.
The beautiful glow the dangerous tug we get to hear small from high up above. "The rest of the world" came Mountains voice "The rest of the world will follow". The loner sees his past and understands the void lost on man. Mountains mind lost on venus the memories that follow. The moon falling further to the earth and the witch dying in the light.
Luckey came back from the dream and the roads that follow. "We must travel through the leaves beyond the underflow to the North". Mountain now sober and the sun rising. The loner is planning his take and his science. He'lls Kittens bells ring to his knowing. She is listening." Mountain sober words did nothing on Kathleen, hungover from the zombie waltz and the memories of her beginnings. "The road must go on". Came Kathleens voice. Imortal to the witches calling dazed from the nights drive. The lights of the North brought us here to see the wait and change of the world. YellowKnife and WhiteHorse called me in a dream. I have seen end and disaster peace and everlasting. There will be a calling." Came the woman's voice we know as Kathleen. "Wherein lies continue." Mountain said.
"Whereing lies continue. You've got to be fucking kidding me. The witch of the of the woods the darkness the wolf and all his lies will die. Take the stranger by surprise. The hunter came last night took his memory and all his lies. Where's Diamond." Kathleen came to her feet to front of the ram. Luckey adjusted her rear view. "Right behind me." Luckey said. Kathleen turned to see the trans am and Diamond hat. "Where the fuck are?", Kathleen expleeted. "Mountains pass and through the woods of the witch. She entertains the dreams of dreamers forlorn and forgone. You've seen vision of the evermore and the calling of your spirit." Mountain offered. "And what of those who don't dream.", Kathleen kicked. "You mean Diamond.", Mountain said. "Yeah I mean Diamond", Kathleen returned. "He saw the call of the wolf and held life in mind.", Mountain riddled. "This is bullshit stop the van.", Kathleen attempted. "We must pass the leaves.", Mountain attempted. "The only thing I'm going to pass is this bullet through the blondes back. At which point Luckey stopped turned and said. "I'm the one who drove us the frig out of that mess." Kathleen turned and remembered. Remembering the road house the bleeding dead and Mountains pass. The dreams of the north. "We must keep moving. The road is in danger and the future in flux.", Mountain sealed. "Trust Mountain.", Luckey said. Kathleen holstered the weapon. "I don't trust nobody", she said turning to the trans am with foreign plates and sat down.
Focusing on the van ahead Diamond followed putting memory to rest and pulling the present to mind. Sober as the sun's ascent. Diamond followed, the weapon concealed and Nova coming to mumbling russian and twiching. "No, no, she said in a language Diamond could understand. Diamond grabbed her arm. "You're alright." "The cold is coming. We must travel North. There is a base, in secret location. The weapon, the weapon must be stopped.
Nova opened her eyes the road lay ahead and the morning dawning. Diamond reached for a smoke. "You've been sleeping mubbling in your sleep", "I am Nova KGB dreams do not haunt me". Nova returned. "Dream's don't haunt me either. To tell you the truth I don't sleep", Diamond sudgested. "Where are we", Nova demanded. "The mountains pass on a road to where, i'm not sure", Diamond told. The sun clouded over and the world turned dark.
Raven's in the sky hundreds by the thousands blacked out the sun. "The darkness comes", Nova said reaching for her weapon. "Where is it', Nova demanded. "Under my seat. Things kind of got out of hand back there your were sleeping", Diamond attempted. "This is a sign the world will turn. The birds are flocking dead in the night", Nova talked. Diamond looked upon the skies saying nothing smoking his smoke, reached under his seat and delivered the weapon back to Nova.
"Does this fucking road end?", Kathleen intended. "The road will end and life will turn. The mountains pass peaked while the wild watched and we listened", Mountain delivered. "Good i'm getting kind of hungry", Luckey said not taking her eyes off the road.
The dirt became sand and the sand to gravel. The lost highway is coming Mountain uttered under smoke and and pipe. Luckey continued to drive till the road came to a stop sign and street sign in need of some attention. "LOST HIGHWAY NUMBER 1". "What the f**k is this?", came Kathleens voice.
An old military testing ground called Devils half acre. They pulled out in the fiftees just before the cold way started. It's mostly empty.", Mountain delivered. "Mostly empty but the crows.", Luckey attempted. "Raven's actually what brings them here i'm not sure", Mountain chymed. "Take the right", Mountain offered over the smoke and the moment, "There is a diner not far down on the western plain".
"What he hell are they serving?", Luckey attempted. "Not sure haven't been there in a while but the cook know's his shit. Truckers mostly delivering what I do not know, but they travel east and west the diner keeps open that way", Mountain directed.
The black trans am turned on the right following the van. "Lost Highway", Diamond muttered. "Yes lost highway. I have heard of this place.' Super Nova echoed. "Chemical warfare and other tests i'm told.", Diamond realeased. "Super soldiers and super weapons.", Nova conitnued. 'Yeah if you believe in shit like that", Diamond echoed thinking not of his own training.
The morning after glow of purple and blue followed the sunrise and the highway wet with nightfall shown whith glitter a highway of diamond's with no one on it but the van and the trans am. The sun rising and shinning down on the trans am blinding the view of Diamond pulled his visor and lit a smoke. The eagle on the hood shinning in the morning. A little worn but shinning none the less.
"American?", Nova asked. "No Canadian", Diamond replied. "Canadian cigarrettes?", Nova returned. "No American.", Diamond delivered. "You say Canadian." Nova turned to Diamond and his cigarrettes. "Yeah Canadian born, American smokes", Diamond said. "And the lady Kathleen?", Nova asked. "The question never came up.", Diamond delivered. We've been through some shit. Still sorting it out. "You are Military.', Nova delivered. "Was, not anymore. Did my tour. Special teams was my unit. We didn't exist. No identity no papers we just disapeared.", Diamond delivered. "CIA?", Super Nova asked. "Something like that the orders came from the top. It was an experiment the best and brightest of the forces trained to take on anything and loose everything not get caught and dissapear. The mission failed the team went mad. Lost everything, the past no future no Identification.", Diamond delivered.
"You find love", Super Nova asked. "Love?', Diamond muttered watching the back of the green van driving down LOST HIGHWAY NUMBER ONE. Diamond held his silence and the wheel. Nova accepted his piece and checked her bullets. "We need bullets?" Diamond asked. "No time.", Nova delivered.
"I'm ready to get the fuck out of here.", Kathleen delivered. "Livin' in a van ain't my idea of paradise", Kathleen said. "You two listening", Kathleen asked. "A haunted lighthouse full of spirits and ghosts", Mountain said. Kathleen turned heard and asked again. "You fucking listening?", Kathleen demanded. "Memory of music and song. You're idea of paradise.", Mountain attempted.
Over the horizon a circle like saucer of secrets hovered in the distance. Silver glistening in the sun's array postured over the highway. A sonic silence filled the void and boomed echoed as the saucer disappeared.
'Did anyone else see that?", Luckey asked? "No it's the fucking LSD.", Kathleen returned. "I was not prepared for this.", Mountain chymed. "Who the fuck was. I just left the fucking invasion.", Kathleen fired. "I want out of this fucking van Mountain's poetry and Luckey's fucking patulie.", Kathleen delivered.
Luckey stopped the van. "Your path is your destiny", Mountain sudgested. "See what I fucking mean he's talking in verse all the fucking time.", Kathleen fired. "Stay with us Kathleen our tyme is in peril your destiny is to be delivered.", Mountain prosed. "My time, my time is gone. Gone like the stars of the of the......", Kathleen attempted. "The ethereal void. Your mind will be cleared and you will have answer to question's that remain." Mountain hinted. "DIAMOND!", Kathleen haulered out the van door.
"These people are fucking nuts.", Kathleen shot opening the door and checking her left leg for the concealed peace. "I'm riding with Diamond. You two can spill rhyme and memory for the rest of eternity", Kathleen said. "Remember the dream of whitehorse and and yellowknife the native spirit has many forms and those are powerful images.", Mountain offered.
Kathleen pulled her gun and sighted down the road cocked then uncocked. "If there's a diner as you say Mountain lets get there before..", Kathleen attempted. "Before the invasion of little green men in flying saucer's.", Luckey released. "What the fuck are you on blond the sixtees were decades ago.", Kathleen fired. "Yeah and the ninetees are a decade away, don't crash bitch", Luckey returned. "Ok enough patoulie for one lifetime i'm getting in the trans am.", Kathleen delivered. "Don't forget about Super Nova.", Lukey returned. "Aw shit.....that bitch and her fucking white russian tits.", Kathleen returned. "Look climb back in and we put on some tunes you can chase the cocaine dream while Moutain lights his grass and we can pretend like it's the eightees.", Luckey sudgested with a wink. Kathleen looked to the sky "Fuck! God?" and climbed back in the van.
Super Nova pulled the visor and gently applied some color to her lips. She was fully equiped from head to bottom. With lips to kill and a figure for any time. "You like ladies?", Nova asked not taking her eyes off the mirror. "Yeah ladies are alright.", Diamond returned. "You see Nova's skin?", Super Nova asked. "Yeah.", Diamond said. Super Nova tooked Diamond hand and rubbed in up down her silk and satin. "Nova feels better now and by the looks of thing's so does Diamond", Super Nova sighed and fixed her holster.
Diamond lit a smoke not smiling not talking just driving. "The cold will come and the armies of the world will unite or, or there will be a great war the end.", Nova said pulling on her weapon tightening her boots. Diamond turned to the radio. "Avalanche was playing by the Winter". "I am not Russian", Nova delivered. Diamond flicked his smoke not turning from the highway and the fantansy. "I am Czechoslovakian...a Soviet defector.", Nova delivered. "You're not KGB?", Diamond asked turning to the woman. "Oh I am a Super Nova KGB as far as my comrades are considered but I have another agenda on mind." Super Nova delivered.
"So this weapon this weapon you've been talking about is a lie", Diamond asked. "No. Nova does not speak lies. There is a weapon of great strength. My mission is to stop that weapon's creation and end this war. After that Super Nova will be spy no more.", Nova delivered.
The green van at Luckey's control turned in to the parking lot of the Road Kill diner. To her surprise Kathleen said nothing of the name. She seemed content for the moment with her powder and contemplations. Her identity and place in time being a mystery but a piece to the puzzle. As events are evident as the past her piece yet to be played. The obvious stress of her Identity and place in the void of this world her only connection being Diamond and Diamond's only connection being of Kathleen.
The curtain of propoganda and miliary lies makes her character believable as a time traveller and outer world fighter. Time travel not being possible tosses a copper penny of credit to her story and the man she calls Diamond. The words I speak are the truth's I know and as my story is written as I remember, whoever eyes find the time to read the work of these ideas will bring time to my solace. The touch of an angel of human or maiden form of a lost void. We are traveller's. Traveller's of time, mind and space. Space being in distance of the earth and even stars for those who still look to them for the answer's and solitude of peace. My question's are relevant as they pertain to my writting. Will I be able to hold these characters together to reveal and greater truth beyond the fact of reality. As fantasy hold's destiny in real world events and without the thought of the abstract nothing is possible.
The van came to a halt and parked. "Time to eat.", came the voice I know as Luckey, breaking my thought and bringing back to the present. "I hope this place servers granola", Kathleen called through the smoke in my mind. "Who's a hippie now?", Luckey's voice I remember.
The trans am pulled up along side the van. Diamond with a cigarrette in his mouth said "Quite a drive", as Nova stepped out and fixed all her equipment. "Look's like it's time to eat", Diamond said and winked at Kathleen.
The traveller's walked to the Road Kill diner opened the door as the bell rang and sat down to order.
The saucer of secrets hovering in the back ground watching our every move. The waitress came to the table. Wearing a low covering skirt and bearing fine cleavage for a woman in her thirtees. "My name is Tiffany. Here are the menus." She winked and walked away with Diamond's eyes.
"Can I get a cup of coffee?",Diamond haulored after the Tiffany. Tiffany turned locked eyes on Diamond. And time stopped. The black and white picture issued the dance of lost lover's of space and time. No mortal being watching just the thinking of the stars cosmos and the dead who believe in the lost gods. The fear of the moment and the memory of the test brought Diamond back to real time. And a coffee sitting in front of him. Diamond chased to see if Kathleen was still by his side. Lost in mind and memory and searching for something to say. Something that made sense and aligned time and reality back to his mind.
"Take a drink" Mountain sudgested and Diamond did. The voices of the traveller's came back to Diamond. "There's no fucking granola on this menu.", came Kathleen's voice. "Looks like scrambled eggs for everyone.", Luckey laughed. Diamond catching his breath stepped outside for a smoke. Mountain followed. The saucer for of secrets hovering in the North was all Diamond could see when he walked outside. Drawing on his smoke and starring. Mountain touched Diamond on the shoulder. Diamond turned to look Mountain in the eyes. "You see that?", Diamond asked. Mountain not taking his gaze away from Diamond said. "And if I said yes would it be more real in your mind as I see what you see but see it not the way you believe." "Dancing in the cosmos with the gods of antiquity and flying saucer's are a choice neither fact or fiction. You are alright and the moment fades though you see as you believe."Mountain delivered pulling on the piece pipe. Kathleen has visions of the Indian Spirit. You remember your past."Mountain asked not knowing the answer.
Diamond turned to the North and saw no Saucer of Secrets. The past is all I know to forget. The St. Louis project the Government called it. No one survived. All was lost memory blood and reality."Diamond delivered. "Reality is in the moment. Our time yet to be delivered. The loner is searching.", Mountain attempted. "And the KGB have landed and are eating breakfast in a Diner in Devil's half acre.
"Want some bacon and eggs?", came Kathleen's voice to Diamond mind. Diamond unclenched his jaw stopped to look at Mountain remembered his travel's and what he believed to be real. "Tell them to scramble mine will ya", Diamond said Hauloring back at Kathleen. "Sugar", came Diamond voice to Kathleen. "Sugar?" Kathleen asked. "Yeah sugar in my coffee. You said you like it black. No cream and the Sugar is for you.", Diamond delivered flicking his smoke and stepping back inside with the memory on his shoulder. Love Tara by Eric's Trip played on the diner's speaker's. As the hungry traveller's ate scrambled eggs, bacon or maybe turkey bacon and coffee black, sugar, or cream. As Tiffany danced from table to table serving trucker's and Hitch Hiker's from other galaxies.
"We must be moving,", came Mountain voice through the scrambled words of the loner. "The loner is moving making his destiny and science his Mythology. "Nova has some news", came Diamond's voice. The table drew silent. "I have no news I Nova KGB and this weapon must me stopped. Diamond swallowed the last of his bacon and said nothing. "Who's moving with who?", Came Luckey's voice as the traveller's stood outside in the Morning glow on th sun's array.
Diamond stood up and paused. "I want answers, answers of the now". "This dream we taste my past being erelavant to the coordinats of this reality and my lady Kathleen. "Being transported in time to a past I know only from the news. As I know we are searching for this loner this loner Basketball player who lost his wife. And is now developing a science we know nothing of. And this soothsayer Mountain who intends to have all the answers." "I am no soothsayer I am a poet and songwriter. I have connections with the cosmos as I have travelled in mind and taste through the void of realtity. The tale we weave is ours to write together or me as one as I have intentions to find the loner and learn of his science the words of the seer Venus as I know her I know her as lover in mind, time and and fanstasy sudgest the word's of Hell's Kitten as the loner's words to follow. The future being unwritten and the actions of these player's being kinetic to the events of a story I wish to know and trust are my intentions. Obviously Nova has her intentions and the man Diamond has his as well as Kathleen. Luckey is a traveller whom I've travelled with on numerous occasion in mind, time and spirit. I believe she will understand and drive the van through the border where we may find time, solace and answer's to the question we at this moment do not understand.
Diamond and Kathleen I pose to you the question where will you go and what will you do. As your connections with the reality of this time are fragile. You have memory's of the future and your characters are complex although interwoven. You are free to dissapear and find solace on this world in and direction you believe to be the truth. I believe you have purpose and your finding necessary to the ending I feel I am attempting to write. I promise nothing only the chance to the truth beyond the obvious and see a destiny that at this moment cannot be comprehended. I ask for companionship and trust. Free your mind and the rest will follow. And of Nova as she has hijacked the van with her intentions putting the innner poet of mind through challenge and sight of truth beyond wich I anticipated. Nova has purpose in this story we are now writting together. As the Raven's watch even if the party of traveller's and separated I know the words of the poet will find answer to the riddles the riddler writes and questions the answer's beg. Choice is ours and mind choice is to continue with Luckey to the border and find the loner." Mountain replied.
"And if we find this loner what then?" asked Diamond. "I do not know at present though tomorow the sun will rise and one more piece to the puzzle will be displayed and ours to place. "As you know I am KGB and this loner plays little to my intentions. I have knowledge and weapons being developed in the North of this continent. My intentions are to stop this weapon. I have found company with strangers as I am in a strange land. Nova will go to border of the North. My identification being Super Nova KGB will be my identification till time of the end of my mission.
"I have had visons of Native Gods as I slept in the Mountains beyond the bullshit of prose, Russian and a little hippie stench. I want to go the Northern Mountains, Yellowknife and Whitehorse. These spirits came to me and I believe there is a want in that destiny.", Kathleen delievered. "We must be moving time is running", came Mountains voice.
Luckey turned the Key and the green Ram responded. Mountain entered at her calling. Super Nova, and the lady we know as Kathleen entered the the trans am they appeared in and echoed the call of the Ram.
Mountain fumbled over the Radio. The weather the news seemingly overly cold. The wall of paranoia complexing the wall of metaphore. Heading North the Border. Leaving the south minute by minute tension of their mission spelling past present and future. The cold coming as the leaves turning falling metaphoricly. The west breathing labourly as the war of the cold promising to to veil the iron curtain.
The radio announcing weather and information topically avoiding the paranoid moment. The government watching interpreting the truth for the listeners who have lost hope.
The Ram burning oil returning carbon to the air and ground. Mountain smoking and the engine singing the song of the highway. Optimistic Luckey pulled thyme from the collection of tapes gathered from hitch hikers and hippie mothers. Are you going to scarborough fair was her selection and Mountains questions. Truth reminds not the delay was Mountains moment as the sun rose over the horizon like a familiar elevator a little closterphobic.
LSD highway 66 crossing 99 threading the needle like magic to worthy. The cold of the air concrete angels and signs. Hypnotically moving north through the hallucination of thyme and unreal of what was reality.
Lucky weaving the memory through mind thyme and memory. The lights of the North pulling them to harboured borders of thought and Native spirits. The mind keen and the body perfecly molded by the rivers of thyme. Mountain exhaled the smoke of thought glancing at the side mirror and the past.
Further up the Highway there is a Mansion called the Velvet Underground. They will help up pass the border in to Canada. There we find the loner and his science. Mountain exhaled.
Dizzy from the memory of the world ending and the visions in her dreams of the North. Kathleen exhaled and looked to Diamond. Wondering about his psychological well being the reality of her own. Her only connnection to the present. Memory being a blur she embraced the now. Kathleen may I ask came the lady known as Nova. What do you think now. Kathleen turning sarcasticly looked the fully bodied Nova and said. Oh quoting poetry of Cohen. The chelsea hotel, marianne, suzzane.
Cohen? He is your father? Nova implied. No Nova he is a Canadian poet who passed away today. He left his mark on poets and lovers from coast to coast. Today is the 11th of November the day we remember those fallen and living from war. Diamond said in a tone of clarity and cold reality.
My grandfather fought in world war two. Capturered by the Germans and put in a concentration camp. I would not be here today without that scacrifice.
And you madam Nova what do you think? Kathleen asked. Nova was little girl living under the rule of the soviets. It was my idea to escape and come to America and marry American man. Orphaned I was implanted in sillicon valley to enhance my appeal to American men. Boys can be so silly. Nova is survivor from eastern Europe.
The KGB trust me. But Nova does not trust KGB. The American men and politicians ego can be seduced with lust and power and money. That is Nova's weapon. The Soviets are a proud people forced to live under the rule of one thumb. That thumb holds the weapon Nova will stop.
Turning fallen leaves from the trees on the cold highway. The trans am from the 80's a dark reality of Michigan fallen and paranoid. The muscle car a memory of American pride and freedom.
Luckey and Mountain seduced by the highway, hallucination and states of dreaming were quiet. Minds wondering through state of conscience thought of thought to memory and memory. Mind to mind and body to body they travelled highway North to highway 2.
The devine entity took the wheel as she does from time to time. Revealing visions posing question to the mind and spirit of the travel. On the left a women in tights pulled from beverly hills walking a poodle wearing rolling skates choreagraphed in neon pink and purple from the savage garden looking sharp and sinless.
On the right a dancing bear pulled from the Iron curtain. Juggling balls from Juno's beach. Speaking a languages westerners struggle to undertand. Juggling the balls dancing evoking fear of the future and the consequence of the past. Harmless in dance but provoked defender and deadly confrontator. In aw the western watch the bear dance with misunderstood pride ready to protect the cubs concealed within the curtain.
A veil of raindrops falling on the windshield of the ram. Wiped by the wipers wiping. Cascading beading travelling at the course a gravity. A halucination a moment to be interpreted and acted on cautiously. Evendence revealing tampered by the laws of industrializtion and the intentions to see through the distraction and distortion of acid rain.
Lucky pulled a zippo lighter from her canvas clutch. Embedded on the steel a lizard. Curved as time, memory and the highway. The king lizard the holy grail of the trip. The memory of sheltered mushrooms and clouds. Striked the flint to Mountains pipe and motivation. Who's crying now by Journey echoed through the steel hollow green ram. Enchanted and woven by Lucky's hand and rings of amber. Mountains thoughts and mind the green ram responded to the heart between them echoing confidence and strength through the bull.
Kathleen fighting fatigue fell in and out of conciousnence. Memories of the past her present state and proposed future. Kathleen was a survivor never to shy from a fight. Smuggling people can't be that different from smuggling weapons. Maybe the pay wasn't as good but she was good at it. Concealing the evedent walking and moving almost invisible unseen.
Diamond had the mind of a special forces soldier. Having escaped the war of 2020. Somehow turned back in time walking the United States in the 1980's when the Soviets and US were locked in a cold war. Driving highway 99 North to his home country. With the OZ of his memory and present tense.he turned on the Radio to hear the morning news.
The radio echoing through the black Trans Am. The Americans just had an election. The people of the United States elected a new president. A billionaire business man. One promising change for the hard working American. The cold war was real and paranoaia ran throgh the papers of the cities, promising an American first mentality. Home land security and religious scrutiny.
Outsiders would not be welcome. The illegal aliens would be deported as He promised. The Americans would as America would like to be American and priviledged. Tensions in the Middle East were tense. Fighting terror was an excuse to handshake over the wall and the Iron Curtain. Diamond lit and smoke and embraced his present time focusing on the Canadian border.
Meanwhile in Toronto. The loner devasted with the loss of his love turned inward. Compelled to bring his life back he began his science. Devoloping a sentient being. Bridging his background in computer science, biology and botany.
Being highly representable in a large city, aka famous, the media took attention to his retirement from the game that made him so visible, basketball. Losing his wife was not easy and the media zeroed in on him his family and his affairs.
Rumors surged and surfaced of his mental stability and the audactiy of his science experiment. A hobby scientist no turned his full attention to creating a sentient life that could hold the memories of a person and live forever.
Hell's Kitten a singer in a punk band who was very political and sometimes said things that were controversial also living in Toronto, took to the idea of the loner and his science. Although jocks and musicians rarely connect in a sublime fasion this was an exception.
Singing against the nuclear bang believing in the loner were high on her agenda. Although we Canadians rarely received the same attention as American counter parts there is a culture a movement a pride.
When the global stage is listening we come across as humble directed and thoughtful. The largest border in global affairs belonged to the great white north and the US. Allies since the great depression and the war of 1712. Canadians find the Americans "Interesting" and the US sees us as an inigma of cold, beer, igloos and bad comedy. However we are rich in oil so that makes us attractive and hip with the south.
As the Ram encroached on the North. The Rain to sleet then snow. The hydrolic wipers pumping holding the gaze on the dirver and passenger captive. It happened but it was a long time ago. As the oak grows leaves changes comes again. Luckey and Mountain tripped through psychedelia euphoria and love.
The Ram an extension of their past a womb of memory and love. Crawling like the serpent of the south, the missippi, peticodiac and the tides of their bay. Serpentine crawling on the highway a catipillar cacooned turning in to butterflies.
Mountain pulled on the pipe and gazed through the shield and the wind. Lights on the highway and slowed traffic. Gathered protesters and the oil company descended on Indian land like locus, digging the ground poisoning the wells and rivers of Native land.
Slowed traffic and pollice presence highlighted the burning fires of protest and the Native anger. The world was hungry. Hungry for power hungry for money. The land a victim of these crimes. The politicians and locus attempting to speak Native language and overshadow the Native logic.
Protectors of the land and water. The conflict burns. Sacirficing life for sacred land. It is an addcition. The white man feeding the Natives poison. Stripping their tonges and robbing their children Demonizing their language wiith the words of christian god and white man thoughts.
Another global stain Luckey intoned and Mountain mentioned. The disease of he world. A cry of a girl. Observers in this protest the Ram the snake crawled through the fires shamed by the hand of greed helpless and hard to breath as Lucky and the serpent weaved.
Somewhere behind the wall politicians were plotting. Assembling cabinets and positions people to pull by their strings. In an age of corruption power and money blinds. Espionage and the double agent ease dropped behind the wall.
Hungry for oil hungry for power. The words contorded by lust and greed. Big brother could here the whispers of the mind. The drone of thoughts echoeing of the wall and comunication satelite. The posture of the east the posture of the west and the vulnerable in the middle. Echoing a wordless comunication the powers mirrored a common interest power and money power and money.
Entertained by the news and dumb luck. The candidates of power held their cards with the poker face of a prositute on christmas. The imaculate bribe. Winking like jocks in a locker room. Talking freely and signing like a catcher to a pitcher. We need a bigger military. We need to enchroach on the cold war with power and intimidation. It was not time to evolve but sit in carbon fuels. This was the drum in the steps. Talking in code, postioning the chess pieces brilliantly to their liking.
We can get along. Although I do not speak Russian and my Real estate remains psychologicaly under water. My tax credit was not mentioned in chapter 11. The cold war was warming east would meet west and clumsy steps to fortune were told by the teller.
Talk was so cheap right now. The prostitute was particularly on fire. Guiltless and imaculate. Shuffling papers like a dealer in an Indian casino. No one would know. The thought of easy cash easy women and a populace desperate for a hand. Blue collar crime met white collar paper. The father would listen and endowe power, bless the sins and the city. The children would inheret the tower. Nuclear food and the bomb would drop. No one listening but big brother and the drones invisible to touch and taste.
Somewhere in the Pentagon and hexidecimal logic of home land security. The CIA got word of the Loner's science experiment. Considering it a threat to National Security they hacked the private mail server of his landed equipment. They began collecting data secretly without his knowing and determining if an X basktball player from Toronto was a threat to security.
The being he was creating in their mind gave an unfair advantage in the office betting pool. A sentient being that was fueled by sound and had no carbon footprint made the millitary feel uneasy.
Being from a foreign Country and worried about random acts of terror between the folk lore of random acts of kindness they bugged his Apple and tapped his phone. The internet being in its infancy gave novice hackers the advantage.
The Windowed fire wall was wide open. The security features and sense of well being that Blackberry brought to the table had not yet been developed.
His Android was gaining attention on National news. A Science Fiction project that no one believed was his destiny. In a free an open society he developed without knowing of the CIA's paranoia.
Code named the Conway pipeline the loner was now on the no fly list and watch list of the federal agents. All the while the Cremlin salivated. Nothing was now no more secure than King's typewriter.
Thae van and its passenges now being upstate in the country of york. It was the middle of winter and cold. The rain turned to ice. Building up on the wires of power and the polls of popularity. The sitting power of the state saw nation wide outages. The news was stalled and the climate of politics changing.
The populace sitting in cold houses ventured for fuel and lined for gas at the stations of power. The trees leaning with the weight of the cold begged for the warmth of coal the industrial revolution. Without power they had no voice without voice they had no freedom.
We need to evolve to change the grid of power to renew the present and prepare the future. Stock looking very south a festival of sound an orgy of thought brought memories of Ginsberg and the Road. Closet junkies fed on the news. Wall street injecting highs and lows the shirts and ties tripped from trend to trend.
Dreaming of vacations in cancun before the wall would erect paid for by bonds, paper and plastic. Internet pirates mocked the security of the establishment. Stealing data and stopping traffic. Pearl jammed beyond 10 and King Jeremy had spoken ghost riding on a Harley. Bombers riding shot gun in the sky of a proposed no fly zone between the border of religion and paranoia.
Mountain rolled tobacco drinking 2 hour old coffee looking for an epiphany or metaphor for the cold. The van warm echoing carbon through the climate dripping oil on the highway. We are stardust billion year old carbon. Evolution and Darwin locked in a dance as God guns and government fought to survive. Mountain the consequence of ancient glaciers rhymed and rolled through time.
Mountain turned his gaze to the stars. The Gods took time out to watch the battle of the GRID IRON. The battle of the UNITED STATES OF AMERICA featured the Patriots and the Falcons. The God Saturn and his Goddess wife Juno turned their attention to the Astro Turf. Putting the cold war on hold for a least a few hours.
The Grid Iron rarely being a place for policital stars and politicians featured some of Earth's brightest and finest. The Gods laying down their power of vito and devine intervention watched only and did not intervene.
Watching their Television the Gods were entertained by the creativity of the Television and high market commercialism. The Falcons, birds of prey took an early halftine lead over the stunned Patriots. Cheering from the animal kingdom could be heard in the Zones of unafected cllimatization. Stunned by the early push of the line of reality the Patriots hudled in the cold of their locker room.
The no fly zone had the falcons high and free permitted by the laws of the land to enter the astro of Houston. King Brady who uturred in a fasion of caucassion cuss we have a problem and attempted to remove some air from the Falcons pig.
The Lady was permitted to take the stage at halftime and entertain the populace despite her polictical views and views on Gender equality and homosextuality. JUNO the goddess played her hand and lit the Lady's lights while she danced between the laws of man and beast. Singing in tyme to a reason in and out of time.
The ex cheerleader and the home of the braves biggest supporter turned this way and that while shielding her children from the fear of being exposed naked published and fired as the apprentice. Still deadly at the hips the center bent to snap.
Offshore wells and betting casinos had their favorites. Casting odds to the shore that was now racially just and a field that was free from corruption and the odd fumble. King Brady sat in the pocket of cash good looks and envy and began to turn heads and make the Kingdom tones of cash and bling.
The Falcons stunned after being to permitted to enter thanks to the Judges orders cancelling the no entry began to feel the heat as King Brady began to find loop holes in the law. Putting the game tied and in to overtime where blue collars work to feed their children and make honest livings.
Though a team game Brady managed to find the eye of the needle time and again eventually overcoming the Falcons expected acceptance of the Title only to turn back to their homeland stunned and grounded.
The patriots lined for the flash bulbs of the papers and fact checking news, heros and champions of the Grid Iron. MVP for Brady while Juno wondered but did not question. There would be another 100 years war to replay the moment over and over. The Gods turned back to the cosmos to celebrate the pegan game and roast the swine in the Patriots honor.
The van and the trans am travelling north to the border hoping to enter a foreign country. Montreal had claimed itself a sanctuary city for Asylum seekers was not far now and the destination of the tired travellers.
A Saucer of foreign soil came in plain view of the of The Mountain and the girl Lucky. Hovering over the highway foreign and un-american and landed on the highway. Fugees of a foreign land targetted the united states a new hope and land of opportunity. Now unwelcome by the air breathing administration and out of cosmic fuel were now on foot.
A file of aliens of color and religious diversity exited the saucer. Green, brown blue and and the ancient greys. Landed in the middle of winter and hoped to enter the sanctuary of Canada before imigration had them deported.
Imagining a phish or greatful dead concert where reality came to grips with psychedelic costumes of purple the future past green skin and a communal ideology. Luckey exited the van and felt the vibration of the earth moving the bubbles blowing and the dancing of the children of the 60's.
Mountain lit the pipe and offered the poetic ideas of conversation and peace. The aliens accepting the offer smiled in purple pink and blue and pointed to the forest. The Ancient trees crystalized in ice and snow offered a path beyond security for the traveller's hoping for a backstage pass to the greatful dead show and the uncontaminated waters were phish tripped.
Leaving the caccoon of the green ram and scaring reality of the trans am the travellers tripped through deep snow frost bite and hope. A frozen river of thought to aliens who had only dreamed of frozen free water supported their hopes a free world and an accepting culture.
Signs suggesting welcome to those who had struggled warmed the bodies and freezing extremeties the desperate risk. Crossing the border at night to see the sun rise smiling and the city's cold grey sky scrapers nested within the Mountain real. The heart of the city open to culure and diversity. The high drama mania of truth about to begin.
The caravan of freedom searchers now firmly cold and across the canadian border began to see the lights.
Dog's barking and the sound of foreign voices accompanied by flash lights and shadows.
I hear voices came the first lady we know as SuperNova. They are coming we must hide in the shadows. Out of
the shadows came the Canadien border patrol and not only the Canadian border patrol but the French
Canadian border patrol these are the events as they unfolded although poorly documented in a pre digital
Mademoiselle excuse moi mademoiselle ou vasez vous. C'est maitenant froid in 5 heure au matin. The caravan
of freedom searchers and tapestry of many colored aliens shocked with the reality of a strange language were
stunned with the fact of a french canadien enforcer. Mountain who's mother tongue was LSD was taken aback
by the french men and his accent and moustache attempted to quote pose and poetry to no avail. There was a slight
anxiety in the band.
Es ce que ils y a quelqun key me dit se que se passe. A slight silence overcame the wilderness. Oui je mappelle
Kathleen. Vraiment Kathleen je suis Inspector Lecluso vous pouvez me dit avect raison comment vous est ici.
Oui inspector mais m'excue mon francais c'est un peu comment peu vous dit tres chaude. Tres chaud Kathleen?
Oui pas comme le tempete mais comme ma couer. Lecluso stood back thought in french "obviously" and said "vien avec
The border patrol began rounding up the visitors. To the panic of the illegal aliens. The forces of good
ebded in the shadows. Je ve le voir tes document et identification said Lecluso. Kathleen translated with
a warm heart to the band that the border patrol wanted identification and documents of which no one had
any except the first lady Spy Super Nova who's documents were Russian. Needless to say there was tension.
Mon dieux sacre blue. To which Kathleen eyed the inspector blushed and blinked seductively and said Oui?
On a des perone ici qui est en cours a Montreal illegal. Oui mes monsieur Lucluso on es en un passage
de chase soud terrain. Les legal des Etats Unis ne permet pas les visiteur du pays d'auntre sable. On es a
research de refuge et terre egal. Puis si je peu dis l'etats Unis on changer le plan medicine et on a des
maladie avec comment je peu dix des pre-existing conditions. Vraiment Kathleen on a des place de re-chauffage.
Tu vais gellez dedans le bois en d'hiver vien avec moi au centre ville.
The band some what stunned at what happened stumbled in to winter jackets and hot cars to the city of montreal
for immigration and processing. Did I hear they legalized pot came someones voice but iphones yet to be hacked and
created couldn't bother to evoke the idea of Big Brother hearing and seeing everything. Aux Canada la sante est la
droight pas un pas un option dix lecluso. Typos and grammer mistakes aside that is to the best of recollection as
it happened. Redistrabution is stricly encouraged and permissible by the free a fair air act of Canada.
Chapter "Another Brick in The Wall"
Meanwhile back in Toronto things were heating up. The huskies were now contending for a coveted home court
advantage spot. The loner continues his reasearch under the eyes of the cia, nfa, the mental and sexual
care act as the leader of the First Nations burned the shredded evidence of Colonial schooling
and the hidden curriculum.
The secret path known as the underground gave insight to the protest of poets social underlings
searching for reason. The hand of power gazed at the children and Alah watched as his children danced in
angel dust under the rule of hypocrysy.
Protest rock was big in the 60's, the 70's was a disco thing and the 80's brought the digital age.
Digital information the passing of information through data. The free world was at war with information.
Mainstream media battle Main street for credibility as the socialites of Hyper Text mark up looked to
the sky of a google stars with the sunglasses inherited from future aliens and saw big brother watching
Hell's Kitten the loner's only connection to love and reality sang protest songs and laughed at the established.
Money ment nothing. Life was fragile the huskies eyed the playoffs and a new star emerged as northern
white lightning threated to strike the prairies and set the grass a fire.
Saturn the god of fertility taunted his wife with lightning strikes as another brick in the wall crumbled.
Juno took time out for a music festival as the WhiteHorse grabbed a cameo in the arms of an angel. The red tribe
tripped and danced in an electric pow wow as bell owning the broadcast rights cast the shadow of native gods
through the televisions of the north.
The women shined like a thousand points of lights gazing as another planet forming in a Galaxy far far away.
The rights to education and clean water proved more important than an entrepernerial spirit the men obviously owned.
The voices of thousands chanted the sex change of parliament as the senate scandalized an Indian attempted
to hyperbolize. A basket of deplorables laughed at the lady of the house who was forced to live with the
circumstances of hyper text mark up insecurity.
In his lab the loner fought the tears of the old laughing lady a scientist millionaire with a computer
attempted to created a life and create the perfect emotion chip. Bi-polar weather brought the news to
new heights and lows as the world ebded and flowed.
The virus was information as it passed from hand to hand. Encrypeted and decrypted by the SS everyone was
being watched. The first Casio digital calulator watched the blacks and white news print as students cheated
on their math exams ignoring the call of duty in favor of an colonial education.
The loner breathed and Hell's Kitten exhaled as protest rock took a hint from the 60's as the Baby Boomers
dropped retirement in favor of chemical enhansments a total recall remake as girls of the 80's implanted silicone
in the valley where the glass ceiling killed jobs with a window.
A crowd was gathering as the law attempted to evolve to shelter and protect nation to nation regardless of color
skin or cree. The mail room busy as the outlook of electronic mail took a fraudulent hit from a demon mailer
undelivered from conscious to conscious. We were being watched but by who.
Big brother now shifting his attention to the KOREAN peninsula where tensions were high. The North Koreans threatening more testing of nuclear weapons and the US under the guise of paranoia was preparing to intercept. The cold war had been long and for the most part cold. With minor instances of Nuclear winter.
The Iron curtain proudly waving in the spring of winter hid suggestions the West the could only imagine through technological advancement and security of things people were sure were secure. Spy satellites from east and west clashed for attention in the news where plastic surgeons sored in the brackets of tax through boob jobs and silicone was only the beginning of that weapon. Space Invaders evolved through the PAC-MAN pills and the synthesized sounds of novice programmers.
The Huskies of Toronto with one foot in the playoffs and one win behind them entered the State of Milwaukee ambushed by the Greek Freak who was obviously genetically superior to the next best dinosaur.
Darwin had a way of setting the fossils in the ground . It was survival of the fittest. The meek would starve and the loner mourned for his game his chance and the supreme leader taunted and tilted at the brim of nuclear populace laced with eastern thought.
The psychology of the North was facialled by the Joe Buck Johnson. A derailment of confidence lie in the rails of the organization. We the North an uprising of hips and hops in the culture of the Country shedding the cold. The players shocked by the spring the hunger of the bucks and the flood of long range ballistic testing. Like a deer in lights of trucker, dazed and confused.
The loner tuned in to see the disaster painted on the faces of his brothers as the Native Land ebbed and flowed to the boss that was nature. It was North Vs South. Socialism Vs Capitalism. Genetics of their mother lands and fire of democracy. The south about to steal the norths milk money. Buhhda feeding Christ and the resurrection over.
Chapter “The Walking Dead”
The player turned loner and scientist turned to the play of the cold. The huskies now a memory in playoff lore to the hand of the Cavalier. Toronto was now in search of a cultural shift. The identity was evolving in a strange brew of legalized dope, hip hop, electronica and fossilized legends of sport paranoia and the legalized process and immigration of the great one.
1984 brought the loner to his science of creating a being that fueled from sound. The countries largest city was a motley of culture and a safe zone for the brotherhood. The sisterhood should also be mentioned as the angry mother ship navigated the tumultuous waters of politics and the ceiling of the tower known as CN.
Reruns of Star Trek, Space Balls, John Candy and Rick Moranis brought the canucks to their knees. The spy who shagged the 70’s was about to be frozen. The double agent took a double, double searching for an identity that was Country of wild rose, frozen and intelligence flooded spring of a Country.
Cross border shopping was mad. As the wise old owl played mister dress up to a foray of curious fox where we new our children were safe. Switch Back to the Scientist who craved the music of Hell’s Kitten. An icon of rock and roll patrolling the Bay and the street. On the wrong side of the Hudson river the Canadians pulled for their populace in Hollywood as the FBI ease dropped on the loner’s latest evolvement. The positronic electronic sound that moved the neurotransmitters through the almost sentient being was being investigated. The secret service tapped the lab out of fear and paranoia as the head of the FBI was fired by a Billionaire President sparring with a poet Prime Minister as bon cop bad cop climbed from the ground to the great pine. Bringing softwood to the table as MOAB was now only a night terror in the fields of county rich in wood and wild flowers.
Hell’s Kitten singing against the nuclear bang of the 80’s independently sang club and bar North and South of the border walking the Devil’s sidewalk effortlessly. The paranoia ebbed through the senate as the oilers cleaned the sand of fossilized man. The loner looking for himself in drops of Jupiter anticipating the dance of the milky way peaking in the high tides of May.
“Montreal in the mid 80’s”
The gang now in downtown Montreal after being processed with the immigration process were now landed immigrants and citizens of Canada. The digital age was upon us. Saint Catherine Street was lined video arcades, strip joints, peep shops and the motley of intercorrelated English and French. Time after time the punk pop movement , hairspray and died hair gave the youth a way of rebellion and the Ozone a reaction.
Kathleen being fully processed and now a citizen with identity spotted a Pharma Prix. The rock machine made their presence known as the angels watched with intention. It was 6:47 am on Tuesday and the city was waking and billowing as the monarchs migrated. The black butterfly an evolution of the industrial revolution lured the poets of Montreal. The morning trains commuted from the vein of existential suburbs to the heart of downtown.
Dazed and confused the ‘fugees walked the streets to the drum of buffalo soldiers. Young politicians and artists in the making filled the metro with hope on their migration to Universities French and English. With pen and paper pulled from the past Mountain scrawled the words of birds sharing the lonely view of acid jazz and hemp cigarettes. Diamond chained rolled hand made cigarettes and blue and drew the notes of his blues through his marine band harmonica for black coffee. Super Nova frisked and un-frisked her equipment a European child in a city of immigrants and western politics. Lucky the only one with any credibility un holstered her visa and motioned to The Queen Elizabeth Hotel.
Tired, travelled and coming down the motley crew entered the lobby. Lucky took it from here and rented three hotel rooms on the 14th floor. Riding the elevator learning to fly as what goes up must come down the doors opened to the hall of the 14th and the travellers crashed on king and queen size beds.
Mountain dreamed alone while the presidents of the United States echoed three doors down. Murmuring in their sleep as the fear of the cold whispered through the vine of communication. Pigeons twittered high behind the mask of the British Monarchy. Late at night and early in the morning. The news barely audible carrying the idea of masked terror and Shakespeare’s knife. The crusade of the Holy Lands brought oil and the spices of the mid east to the forefront of British democracy.
An Oasis of the desert was a wonder wall a champagne super nova in the streets of Manchester. Frozen with terror the cold didn’t sleep. The bombs and guns assisted the suicidal extreme of religion. The far right confronted the far left. The East gazed the West and world trade fell in circumstance. The French Prime Minister sparred with the English Monarchy and the crimes of Christianity. Mountain riddle in the dark as the voices of the sleeping people bombed Germany with colonies of refugees.
The chancellor welcomed the homeless in a destabilized Europe ebbed with the terror of uncertainty. A division in the far right as globalization took a turn for mother nature batting home run after home run for the populace of the planet and an America playing a game without time.
Chapter Canada’s 150
The CIA now in full bloom paranoia symptom 3 zeroed in on the Russians the Canadians and the loner in Toronto. The Prime Minister in Ottawa lit the pyro techno fireworks of a Nation celebrating 150 years as a nation of immigrants, pioneers of Cabot, St. Laurent and the pagan lore of Vikings ravaging the coast of NewFoundland.
A nation 150 years young contempt with democracy, law and an economic certainty. The original inhabitants of the Country divided with the history of their culture and the genocide of their Genesis. The Baby Boomers who danced in the 60’s retired in their 60’s. The cultural socialized youth and inherent generations peaked with millennials the X’ers and Y’ers bubbled in the pot of legalized sexual diversity, economic indifference and globalization relaxed a little.
Rebel voices echoed in the houses of parliament as law struct Verdict and veracity and innocence lost and man became men, woman became women. Immigration was paranoid as the aliens sought habital and accepting lands.
Sir John A rocked in his chair and smoking his pipe coughing ‘for the lucrative taxes of his tobacco. The urban streets of king and queen rolled on pain killers and traded beaver for powder keg of the European disease. The religions were challenge by their youth as the clergy aged and attempted to reform god as an entity evolved thought ripe with violence and false promise.
The loner nearing his science as science was magic and magic was misunderstood until the babies of the boomers generated science X and legalized dope while tech giant sold pods to the populace to communicate as Kirk and Spock fought for identity beyond the fiction of space philosophy.
The loner’s science moving at warp speed put him on the watch of the CIA as the Eve angelical created and ate another apple in a flawless park of opiates and afghan terror. Winter took a few months off as the Russian bear laughed at the star spangled banner and Canada increased defense spending. Logic and law tempted the Einstein’s A Bombs and the peace process of poetical saints and literary art of a nation well known for acceptance and its group of 7. CanCon imposed its will on waves of Olympic Plaza Calgary and the Nickelback reasoned with murdered drugged and missing aboriginals.
Captain Canada spared with his American counter part. Captain basketball took another night off and the loner crushed zero’s and ones creating an android to hold his thoughts and emotions feeding of the sound of the populace looking for a hero in the night a motley creation to give hope to the hope full and cash for the CEO’s of capitalism. A hero who would write for the classes and descendants of man and woman. The children would have a place to play and the bank would stay open all night long. Paying his hydro bill off the stock of his premature professional retirement.
“Chapter Call Centre Muse”
Somewhere in New Brunswick the call centers went silent. A mass cellular outage crippled communication of the Easterners causing hallucinetic carnage. Texting, sexting and exam cheating went on hiatus. The cellular attack was obviously the result of the Premier Colluding with the Russians. CISIS and emergency services attempted a big brother type cover up.
The silent generation to cool and hip with information technology saw through the smoke and haze of the talking Bell trying to keep it quiet. The hipsters maintained their composure. The beards grew a little while losing a little more off the top. Credit checks and street smarts kept the Café’s busy in European style downtowns.
Main street and Robinsons court smoked up with the daily paper outsourced by the Times. Morning traffic moved with hustle of migrating Algerians. The soup kitchen poured with the tongues of Ala, God, and the Mountain.
An underground commerce of pills, smokes and hash fueled the socialites of the street. Welfare checks and subsidized housing wasn’t enough for the Lady of the Night haunting St. George and High. Mad Mad Mona Lisa painted song, street and piano. Mountain’s LSD echoed the Dead profits of the French revolt and near riot of Lefebvre.
Sally’s underground Garage threatened the Divorcees with Bankruptcy. The Sunset unrenovated echoed with the voice of Highfield Square and caffeine. Half filled bottle’s of inspiration filled the windows and the local Elvis impersonator.
Coble stone queers danced on Queen while the Triangle fiddled to Doctor Dylan and the French Quarter. Stoned immaculate in Victoria Park entranced the Undoer while Eric’s clothes tripped at the Laundry Mat.
Jager and the Giant dropped Bombs at the paramount to Weirdo punks never seen or head from since. Peter Parker pounded the keys and Mary Jane applied for lipstick. The economic crash of Bay and the Mud River Mayhem attempted to breath Le Noise back to back alley’s of Downtown. Mountain had been here and the Road pointed to the prosperity of the province.
Casino’s and the addicted prayed to swinging bells as Kamakaze vets welcomed the Japanese Sushi and pearl of fundy. Apartment 19 dealt grass, hash and LSD. A place to crash while gone daddy gone payed the rent. Mountains Genesis and Luckey’s promise looked west. The Wanderer played cocaine and Cash up and downtown. The Mac truck tolled justice for all and a trailer full of change and purple’s heart. CN cut town and the tracks cut the city in half. Oak park bowed the arbour of hope cast song and death of ADHD.
“Pot of Gold”
The pen being more mighty than the sword swayed the idea of a queer Monarchy. The butterflies prepared for the migration south as the geese honked veered in air traffic. The air traffic controllers redirected jets to Newfoundland as mayhem rocked North America.
The bomb flexed and pumped performance enhancers to a mirror existential to the genesis of Venice and Miami prepared for golden girls and guys of retired Canadian professionals. Water filled the canals in a romantic onslaught of wind and raining bullets courtesy of Lee Harvey Oswald. Texas crude pumped and drowned in the greed of its own appetite.
No one suspected mother nature to confront father nature. Throwing orgasmic hurricane as the water rose and fell with the blushing cheeks of virginity turned hoar. Jesus Christ born saviour lived en-mass as the steeples bargained for salvation as Hitler took a lethal dose and the holy rollers gambled for their clothes.
The loner in his lab conducted his science. The huskies of Toronto played a lack luster off-season failing to add key components to the roster and losing heart and soul to free agency. Hell’s Kitten continued to sing against the nuclear bang and agreed to meet the loner in cyber space in the newly name Scotia Centre.
The Huskies howled at the moon in heat and ready to breed. How in the hell did we outlive and out run the Raptor. Fossilized thought buried law and logic in the halls of Rideau. The Canadian’s mere spectators of the nuclear sport condemned the acts of Shakespeare and the knife in Brutus’ back.
The president of the united states danced with the golden bear and crashed on his economic course of trade. NAFTA, the beaver facing the way of the buffalo taxed the earth as powder finger killed another brave.
p>The nuclear wind of the 80’s blew through the leaves of the ending summer. Students returning to class and universities began choosing majors. Computer Science majors needing upper level sciences in between swishing basketballs got naked and baked before Botany 4000 and studied the hydroponic breeding of plants and trees. Eight Thirty Monday morning in Ganong Hall brushed with commerce, nuclear medicine and the captain quitter. The frosh hypnotized with academic fear took notes and stats from upper class men intent on the initiation.
“The Shot Clock”
The fall coming to conclusion that winter was colluding with the idea of snow shook and stuttered with the south in disbelief. Evidence of summer blowing in the wind and the loose leaf of the special prosecutor known as the law of nature handed sentence to the shadowy history of democracy. Campaigning under way for future of veracity and embellished bribery echoed the minor touching of Nixon and the children of the 60's.
Embattled woman en-tour de force hung man after man for unwanted advances kissing and touching of parts and continents to be placed on sanction of money, laundering and unwanted cross border shopping.
Remembrance Day passed and remembered by living veterans while the Youth watched in silence as their grandfathers bled in the rows of poppies blowing in the graves lined by row and row.
The call of duty bringing the children to the zones of war through questionable gaming of a history known as the war before three still searching for the justification of the slaughter. Now in a digital age, educators sought new philosophies of pedagogy for children bored with math and the scientist.
For all science and places where dreams met reality Canada was the epicenter of commerce, cultural integration and the hoop dream. The Huskies with their shoes now in the regular season were a motley of men from around the world. Pushing the idea of law and allowing the game to evolve.
The loner intent on his science watched intently as the Huskies faced accusation and challenge of moral integrity beyond the courts of the west and seeking a truth the North would welcome and remain free.
Science and fiction touched the imagination of the children. Heroes were created, and generations were born. The loner remained alone developing a body that was free from hunger free from disease. A body that would live forever. A body created with the intel of science, silicone and plant life. A body that could hold the memories of his mind and carry out the will of his science for a populace in search of truth beyond the houses of parliament and the spectrum beyond black and white.
The news now coming from the North Pole and South Pole, kept the CBC warm and Montreal cold. Having now passed immigration the gang got back on track. The loner the weapon and this cold war were making headlines from east to west. The papers read in black in white NUCLEAR proliferation was decades away as the Continent was knee deep in The war on the cold.
Mountain took liberty of his peace pipe and breathed with the carbon of the forsaken and healed. Kathleen had a hundred bucks tied to her garder belt. Not saying anything about it. Lucky’s plastic had about a grand. Nova was paranoid, paranoid of the cold and this weapon the KGB threatened. Intrigue was off he charts and local coffee shops brimmed with X Files.
The Van and trans am were gone. A distant memory of the war at the border. Milking every penny of thought the president conspired with his foreign diplomat. The red chamber inhaled soberly and secondly the smoke of the 60’s and exhaled. The senate would back the ruling and immigration of Canadian Geese were offered retirement in Miami.
Slurring through the snow the White House welcomed the diversity of species as Canadian Geese passed over head sharing their thoughts from a hundred feet up. Sussex drive ran with the indie film, gaming and music while Hollywood pushed its will on the young at heart with echoes of Sky Walking elk. Who were not to be fed by the hand of man.
The echo system of the beaver threatened to Close the Hudson and pipes were used for different things. The Gang was segregated In homeless shelters awaiting permanent affordable housing. West Jet beckoned with the boomers and landed in European holidays resurrecting the peace offering of the Colonial shift.
Mountain scrolled and scribbled in his thoughts the ideas of the loner and the prophecy of the people. The mid East percolated with division as the war that was saw tickled the man behind the Iron Curtain. Mountain blowing smoke rings through the leafless trees welcomed the snow and the purity of the ice. A reality check of the season and ringing bells of the salvation and the army. A snow flower and the star in the sky fought for the ideals of birth, genesis and the home for the homeless. The ‘fugees found a home in a foreign Country called Canada free to practice basketball and religion in peace.
a little later
The trade war escalated between Washington and Toronto, the capital of Canada as the Yankees liked to call it. The series dead locked at two a piece.
The Huskies were forced to work. The black of the oil sands shimmered with the hopes of crossing into foreign markets. Backed by the government of Canada and the undeground pipeline.
The gang a long way from the Mont Real. Left with a biker gang to Ontario. The FBI rocked the white house and it attempted to hush the media storm with intimedation and cash.
Mountain breathed the air of canada. Pulling ryhme from his pipe and lucky's eyes. The Terror of the Loner's sentence was quieted by the CIA and and Hell's kitten's words a memory to the youth who intended to inherit the land.
Another killing another loss to Canada. An icon in the news and the street beat. There was a sadness in toronto as mini vans swerved through toxic rumor and socialy engineered media.
The city was a target of a larger scheme. Washington would prove its dominence and superiority over the energy of the Huskies. Taking all they wish. A motley of race and color. The blue color of the blue color. The hands of the workers. The voices of the chain. Stamina and patience were tested. The threat of violience for sport was real. Cooler heads and a collected conscious of culture, heritage and a higher calling would prevail.
The Canadain Broadcasting company reported as the geese returned from chemical rain to hatch in a Country of Sorvereignty rights and freedoms and liberty's. The maple leaf blue with frustation over the spill of broadcast scrutiny and remained free. Another game, one for the naration. Mountains peace and the land of the free, ocean to ocean and 6am blues. Blue Sunglasses at night and the strippers heart spilled in the great lakes and the countries between them.
The mighty Saint John river was testing the banks and the reality of climate. The water can be beautiful, powerful. Harnessed energy illuminating cottage country and the lights of Area 41. The capital City of the province. The city of Government rooming houses and Universities.
Free speech was a good thing. When you could afford it. Mountain could afford it. Kathleen was buying it and the Raptor needed it. Now on life support the franchise was swept by the association and the King. The feudal system flexed its muscle and raised the taxes.
Making call after call for the King and his men. As Philadelphia, Compton begged for street cred. The fossils of the season pressed in the papers as the ink of promise bled with the rivers testing the boundaries of existence.
What would be left of contract talk, prayer movement and culture of street, comunity and rural routes. North of the Border everyone new everyone. But everyone new this was no where.
The bikes were back on the streets. And thanks to Kathleens penetrating looks the bikers were on the side of the Mountain. The refugees were now in Toronto a little torn from war and the red lights of Saint Katherines.
Downtown Toronto was basking in spring as sidewalks opened to merchants and merchandise. Side walk cocktails, and ethnic cuisine. There was a bubble as the leaves came out and the toes of the pigeons claimed the grass in the parks.
University was closed and the houses of parliament would follow and rest as spring took all the credit for the winters cease fire. Magnificent as the tides rushed and nature took another page. The offspring of may would bling their rims and walk the talk of hipsters in their 20's. Vision and the 2k virus was smarts and quick on the draw. Visa's would be awarded as the Country welcomed and exported. This was the making of promise and for ten minutes The Mountain melted. Although the Kremlin was quiet after another landslide victory and Super Nova's black hair shined in Toronto, the silver of her weapon cached at the Border. The Mountain and inhabitants erupted and smoked. Kathleen bought a sim card and a red apple phone with the cash she one playing cards in the biker camp. And now the motley were hip with hyper text mark up language.
I might as well be on mars dinning
On corn pops with a flopped eared
Rabbit with the diamond earring he
Stole from the queen of hearts
When she slipped on Tony Hawks
Board in the middle of the little
Dipper dipping in purple punch
For a political artistic lunch Elvis
Was the entertainment while Marylyn
Served refreshments to the Kennedyï¿½s
Dali tattooed the scene behind the sun
Where spirits come in search of inspiration
And Einstein changed a rubix-cube
Into a circle we all use as a baseball
In the middle of Asia the
Dalai Lama hits one over the wall
For a little guy named Babe
While he eats caviar
With a Blue whale contemplating
The future of man and the meeting
Of Extra terrestrials in search
Of a beach house and babes
Playing volleyball sipping on
Coconuts until they all go crazy and walk
Up on the beach killing Nazis
With banana bullets to save the
Queen called victory in an over
Analyzed musical composition
Beethoven Bach and some one
Called Christian conducted
For a billion little children
With no reservations but
Guilty temptations and the
Word no flashing in the
Sky like a Vegas Sign
No one can see because
They donï¿½t believe but try
To exceed gravity and
Oxygen and live like a dance
The fire throws shadows of life
Lost in intelligent conversation
No one could actually say
Or describe but we all
Know it like the smell
Of home and the touch
Of a girl
A crescent moon of memory atop
The megalopolis full of melancholy
A crew of stars crest the skyline
Black, black, black as the raven's call
A lot of little lights in the city
Fight for exposure over the night
Quotes of a dead poet race through the streets
Stopping at statues waiting
To be awaken by aphorism
The streets signs have nothing to say
All the lights are flashing red
An invisible demon cloaked beneath the city
Holds all the time
In a book written in blood
All the truth unwritten in his mind
He holds the past
In the cage behind his left eye
The future is chained
In a globe of fire beneath its breast
How quietly friends become old
In our memory these pictures are cold
Black dog sleeping in the kitchen
Streams of smoke above the oven
13 artists in the circle
Elevator music down to purple
Singing voices in the attic
Colored paper covered in a lyric
Manic mannequin in the yard
Shot gun on the roof shooting star
Broken cigarette kiss of lipstick
Crashing ashstray she's upset
On a plane far away
I'm sorry I didn't have to stay
I'm already gone
Footsteps in to the sun
Green steel bridges
Across provincial ridges
A boxcar boycott
Commercial coffee stop
A comment on the rain
Saturates my brain
I stop to think
A rural ice rink
Geese on the water
The highway's hotter
Sleepin' in a ditch
Mountains to dream
A plain reality
Green red gold
It's Octobres glow
One more thought
Nature never stops
one to 1
all or none
forever and a day
the piper plays
no written rules
the writers fool
war on society
death on public property
blood on the cross
beggar for a boss
pennies for pills
lost for words
your memories over
To teach a stone to crawl
Is to teach a man to evolve
My mind is still
My world is a picture
Simple like the thoughts
I am not thinking
My world is moving
While Iï¿½m breathing
Like the ocean rising
But no sound is heard
Of the door opening
Before my eyes
I understand everything
And question nothing
I am not alive
I am here
In a moment
So time does not feel powerless
The world spins
On my index finger
I present a life
In the dark
A shinning star
She left the room
I held my breath
Bread in the oven
I start to breathe
Footsteps on the stairs
Rain touches the window
Button close the curtain
Drips on the floor
A cat quietly
Cleans the mess
She smiled I said hi
The wind turned clouds passed
Across the sky A bird flew
Her eyes are green
My toes are wet I feel my heart
In my chest too buried
For her to find
Footprints in the sand
The taste of life
Inside a Canadian maple doughnut
I find a moment
Outside my maze
And leave the little mouse
Hoping zen will open itself up
And take the mess
Away from my desk
Inside the commercial coffee shop
I let it go as I swallow
Milk and maple
A tingle to my toes
While time slows
I blend with the regulars
I have no where to go
Nothing to think
No tie to a binary company
On the other side
Of the sky
As I sink further
In to my surrounding
And become one
With Tim Horton on Paul street
And I breath
The sweet salvation sensation
For 15 minutes
I am free
Looking into your eyes
I fall to the ground
The world spins around
I canï¿½t control my mind
The slightest thought
Turns a tiny knot
I canï¿½t cough up
And taking out the trash
The ring breaks my teeth
I see another side of me
In the mirror
I see my friend
A hidden message to send
Only I know
Whatï¿½s not behind the shadow
Another world explodes
I was so young
Indestructible in the flesh
But still afraid
Of the dark
Unafraid of the thoughts
My ideas yet to be constructed
What a mess was made
Of my mindsï¿½
So strong In youth
Lost will in sacrifice
The truth buried
Smoke covered in
Filth from the street
Full of open hands
And shoeless feet
I lied on the ground
While my conscience
Me to be a Man
I dream of the road
Late night drive
From my city to another
Under the stars we stop for gas
I hear nature in the grass
In between the cars that pass
Inside the van where the air
Has found a draft
We relax one after another
Listening to our favorite bands on the radio
Me and my companions in the back
Co pilot in the shotgun seat
They fall asleep
After a long chat
Except for me
And the captain of my destiny
The music plays quietly
Over the sound of the highway
I take another sip
Me and my thoughts exactly
Where weï¿½re supposed to be
swish swish swish4>
and a little wind on the river time
smile on the ground the color found
of the world going round and round
under the yellow sound of a singing canary
high up in the galaxy
flying in to another time and place
where heaven's lost grace
perpetuates cosmatic silence
but the sound of static and asteroids
chasing little dreams from big stars
writting behind bars
for stealing pretty red cars
from politicians and princes
who couldn't feed their children
or lie on a lumpy bed
a beggar made whole wheat bread
to feed this family
and buried a nail in his ankle
like a hero dunks a basketball
and a god makes thunder out of tinsel
in a town with no lights
but fireflies and butterflies
working like bees in the streets
so time can flow around the undertoe
a good little girl
swam across the galaxy
spreading seeds and popeys
for dead men and their families
returning from the place they went
where their eyes went red as a planet
with no water or fossils
like the dreams of earthlings
controlling robots like a cyclops
in a maze hunting for something to kill
like a lizard eats milk from the garden
the night stole peaches from the valley
we drove through once hot and dry
then cold and wet
like the fall before we slept
in the mountains to find angels
who were sleeping quietly like candles
in a church no one ever enters
but in the back of their mind
they drift from time to time
through the big doors
and hear the bell
of a thousands yells
from down the stairs
the basement with no lights
but burning hearts
and fighters with nothing left to fight
but their fears