Friday, March 26, 2010

The Whine of the Dog

i sat in my chair
starring at the ceiling
with my feet on the desk
and a beer pinched between
my index
and
thumb.
waiting for
the air
to
thicken with thoughts
and put me into action.
the dog let out a low whimper
and i heard him
through both closed doors
clawing at the fence in the kitchen.
his whimpers grew to moans
and moans grew towards barks
and i finally got my feet on the ground.
i sat outside of the fence
and talked with him a bit
about his disturbing my writing.
"listen pal, quit the shit huh? i'm working over here,
later, later we'll go out and look for some bitches, but right now
just hang back for a second."
i reached over and rubbed the back of his small head.
back in the room
with the windows open
feeling cool dusk breeze
and feet up on desk.
i thought about her
and wondered how time can bring us
to our knees like small children
getting whipped.
our feet cut out from under us
as we hop along like frogs.
then,
i hear him whimpering again.
i realize
that his whimpers
make me want to go even further away from him
because he dislikes being alone
and constantly cries about it.
i look over myself in the mirror
the sad condition of my face
and make amends
with myself.

The Salt of the Earth

the day was not beautiful. clouds were blocking out the sun in certain spots, and the day took on a gloominess that made me feel less and less like driving. my ass was growing numb, the wind was blowing cigarette ash into my eyes and the car was vibrating like a world war II bomber plane getting ready for takeoff. i eased my mind away from all this by starring dumb faced into the open road ahead of me and imagining myself a world war II pilot, strapped into the captains seat, working knobs and switches, as the big bomber rumbled down the airstrip waiting to catch enough air to be lifted off into open sky. giving her full throttle i wanted to see just how far i could push this baby into the pavement. suddenly the car moaned a bit, and a giant crash followed thereafter. in my rear view mirror, i saw scraps of rubber flying up into the air behind me. i had lost a piece of my tire.

i knew i had to make it off the highway before i lost the rest of it, so i swerved across all four empty lanes and made for the first exit. the car limped the whole way into the tire shop. i was sweating now, the heat was getting to me, road tired, hungry and out of cigarettes, both the car and i creaked and moaned as i got out. a short kid walked up to me. the sweat had bleed through his hat and produced a dirty halo around his head. he was wearing a yellow shirt and dark dungarees, square jawed and with a punchy nose, he extended a hand and asked me what he could do. i showed him the tire and he went to work in no time.
i shuffled across the street and bought some cigarettes and a small bottle of whiskey. when i returned he was rolling the new tire towards the car. i lit up a cigarette and offered him one, i had to light it for him because the kids hands were so greasy he probably would of caught fire. he mumbled over his shoulder, without taking the cig out of his mouth,
"i'm not discounting this off the cost of the tire."
" i wasn't planning on it."
 we both laughed and shook our heads. i took a sip off the bottle and the whiskey ran warm down my throat. when he was finished with the tire i offered him a nip. he took it reluctantly just as a sheriff cruiser drove by.
"you better beat it"
i opened the car door and handed him the money. he gave me his card and waved goodbye as i turned on the road opposite the way of the cruiser. i was back on the road. cigarettes, whiskey, full tank of gas and a fresh tire. nothing could stop me now.

i drove the next 80 miles without incident. occasionally taking a nip from the bottle when the road was clear on all sides. i knew i was getting close when i saw several rows of date palms. i wondered what it must be like to climb up those trees and cut down  fruit in this blistering hot sun. i tried to look and see if anyone was out climbing with a machete between their teeth like a pirate. but it looked desolate and alone, not a soul around as the palm leaves continued blowing in the hot wind.







 


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